Windows

thanks ya all....

Quote:

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Originally Posted by symphony

The city somehow looks greyer on lazy afternoons.
Concrete stands
facing concrete.
A silent edifice
eyes another
with its hundred eyes: All showing glimpses of life
rarely chanced.
The sudden monologue of a crow breaks through
the slow yellow.
The absence
of motion rings
its presence
throughout the gallery of windows one after another.
And the gods of
miracles and wonder
are past, only this--
geometry put
to careful display, exposed to a lifeless pose—remains.
Poised and planned.
One cannot build.
Will not create.
One can only stare
through one’s window and see more windows there.

March 31, 'o8

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This poem is a little different in that it does not subscribe to the usual and rise above what is commonly seen.
ular
The exeperience is common and yet the stlyle adopted is totally uncommon and singular.

It DOES keep getting bumped up, doesn't it?

Damn!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by symphony

Damn!

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Well, that's one way to keep your poem at the head of the queue!

This poem has been murdered by the respected editor of the weekly paper Holiday. This being my first published poem, I thought I'll save the paper. Instead I had to save the many shreds I tore it to. But still I saved it.

The corpse of the poem can be seen at: http://www.weeklyholiday.net/cul.html ("through the windows" by Bhaswati Mazumder- around the middle of the page)

May it rest in peace.

I thought this poem fantastic. You know what they say about editors. "Those who can do, those who can't critique." I wouldn't take it personally, those guys have a need to gnash their teeth and for the most part like trash new talent. It's job security.

Glad you brought this poem up from the archives or I would have missed a really good read!

I rarely have time to read all the poems on this site but Symphony, you have certainly caught my attention with this fine poem. I am glad I peeked in and read it. Wonderful imagery and I love the idea of the windows and then the last line with even more windows. Are the windows also representative of one's eyes as in the line from Shakespeare "Behold my eyes, the windows of my soul" ? I hope I quoted that line correctly; at least you do get the idea.

Thank you both.

Janine: I think I have a fascination towards the similarities between windows and eyes in this regard, yes. The last stanza of my last poem read like this-

Just as you could see an eye inside of an eye
and flow lost in the endless windows inside,
so is his eye on mine- dead and alive
at the same infinitesimal time,
when you enter his world of eyes –
blacks in whites in a tireless rhyme.

Both windows and eyes have a continuity in them, it is like going through a tunnel of endless doors open before you.