Robin S Ngangom
Robin S Ngangom Poems
|2.||POEM FOR JOSEPH||11/2/2017|
|9.||Houses (After Cavafy)||6/23/2012|
|11.||15 August 2008, Northeast India||6/23/2012|
|13.||Funerals And Marriages||6/23/2012|
|15.||The Ignominy Of Geometry||6/23/2012|
|17.||My Invented Land||6/23/2012|
Comments about Robin S Ngangom
I remember only the detritus of schools
which taught fear,
where only nuns seemed to believe
in the power of the written word and punishment.
There was a boy in the middle of it all
who once forged his father’s signature
in order to dodge a maths test
and spent the whole day in a World War II cemetery
sleeping between roses and epitaphs.
The intimidation of books from Glasgow
made him steal small notes and coins from his father
which admitted him to a mystic circle
of titbits, cannabis, and adult tales
far away from pink rooms and uniform ...
A writer can survive without a car
but a window with his palm
feeling the breath of a street
or a garden, a few weeping pens
and clean sheets are indispensables.
He can live with the moon
as his eastern neighbour or with pines,
cantankerous mynahs or even factories.
As of now freedom of expression