Lot of things don’t make any sense,
my sitting on the incinerating surface of the Venus and listening to this somnolent melody coming out of nowhere.
But it’s moulded with moroseness there,
bzzz…bzzz…bzzz…bzzz
Raping every fossils of this creation.
Numbness has it’s peculiar language to convey the turmoils within.
I wonder what if, of all people i could ever attain that,
my brain cells know about the guns and the tranquility after every bullets.
Am I too vulnerable to do anything or even to think anything?
I guess everyone is or isn’t.
A month worth of laundry and a month worth of bus ride,
living race only got these to dance through this aesthetic circus.
Indifferent city smoking away the scrumptious craps, honey like violence…and smitten hallucinations.
Thank you very much for this starless spell.
Reblogged this on The Perilous Reading Society and commented:
‘A month worth of laundry and a month worth of bus ride.’ Dang. Check out this beauty of words by the superb, ankandas.
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Thank you jac for the kind words…it really means a lot to me. 🙂 🙂 🙂
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Hey, what can I say? I love your work.
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☺☺☺
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This is a fantastic piece of poetry Ankan !
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Thank you so much chhaya…very glad that u liked it.. ☺☺
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My pleasure Ankan 🙂
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Very moving and echoes the ‘starlessness’ of depression with some poetic words.
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Thanks a lot.. Glad u liked it.. 🙂 🙂
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👌👍👌👌👌
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Thank you eliza…☺☺
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Many lines in the poem speak to me. I particularly like this one. “Numbness has its peculiar language to convey the turmoils within.” How true is that? No matter what the tragedy, numbness protects us from our loss and from ourselves. Others are not unaware when we are numb. Beautiful.
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Thank you Marsha…it really means a lot to me. Very glad that u liked it.. ☺☺☺
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Thank you Marsha…it really means a lot to me. Very glad that u liked it.. ☺☺☺
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You’re welcome. I appreciate talented poets.
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