Pigeons are the first to comprehend; perched
across the street,
they like me are surveying the abalone-grey clouds
and population,
I can almost make out the anguish and cries,
the human inclination
to waver between mists of time and state of things.
Must we continue to let the system cheat us?
On the rooftop, unbroken by city, wheel and unripe
hope I muster the courage to write on;
though pile of darksome
ruins of heart convince me otherwise,
here where the plot changes according to megrim
of the influential— why?
And that too at the cost of corpses in coffins!
Autumn observes closely from the shadows,
as blossoms lament neat rounds made;
how long until patience exhausts herself and lies
govern the world?
Perhaps it’s callow of me to feel this way;
I cannot help
but sleep in the lap of chaos and din,
this dark and somber burn,
this unfeeling landscape that continues to grow,
to grow, and grow and grow—
what of solid waste,
what of absence of proper management on part
of the government,
what of design and technical miscalculations
that pave way for atrocity
to occur again and again, haven’t we had enough already?
Forgive me, if I trespass into thinking melt-water
like drought is a curse,
forgive me if I dare to speak aloud what everyone
at the moment is contemplating,
the view from the rooftop is pleasant,
it’s aesthetic,
the breeze ruffling the ends of raven-black locks,
the sprawling green,
the hustle and bustle of traffic electrifies,
but how can one ignore bedlam
when it’s staring them right in the face?
It’s time we heed to the voices that can be heard
in-between the lines.
Photo credits: Cactus on the roof of sky rise apartment by Megan Nixon, Unsplash
Posted for Open Link LIVE: September Edition @dVerse Poets Pub
Not the usual romantic but all the same very interesting poem
“unripe
hope” nice image.
Much💛love
Thank you so much, Gillena 🙂 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Beautiful pictures and pensive lines, I liked this part especially:
“On the rooftop, unbroken by city, wheel and unripe
hope I muster the courage to write on;
though pile of darksome
ruins of heart convince me otherwise,
here where the plot changes according to megrim
of the influential— why?”
Thank you so much, Oloriel 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
It’s devastating to hear the news from Pakistan, and I thought about you as well when I heard the news. We have all caused it, but we seem unwilling to solve it
Thank you so much, Bjorn! Yes, it is indeed devastating! It means a lot that you thought about me when you heard the news. My family and I are safe. 💄❤️
Such a powerful and heartfelt poem, Sanaa. Hearing the voices “in-between the lines” is something I’m not hopeful will occur. The overlords are too busy barreling towards our extinction to listen. It was good to hear you read today but such a devastating reality for those who are living it.
Thank you so much, Lisa 😀 so glad the poem appealed to you on a deeper level 💄❤️
BLAMMO good as always, SR, and those closing 4 lines need to be amplified and broadcast cosmically.
Salute. Thanks.
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Ron 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I loved this, especially “sleep in the lap of chaos and din.” Really wonderful piece.
Thank you so much, Christopher 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Over at earthweal, the poles are earth grief and earth hope — inextricable from each other and constantly redefining themselves in terms of the other. Pakistan is redefining loss (“bedlam”) in a way that everyone is wading through in greater homelessness. The paradox is that the world is beautiful and melting too fast; they are shadows of each other. This is a love poem where presence and absence are one. Well done Sanaa.
Aww gosh! Thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful comment, B! I am pleased the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I cannot help
but sleep in the lap of chaos and din
What a gorgeous, gut wrenching phrase. The whole thing is spectacular.
Thank you so much, Alexandra 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I enjoyed your reading, Sanaa.
“how long until patience exhausts herself” really stands out.
Thank you so much, Ken 😀 so glad you enjoyed the reading! 💄❤️
Your last stanza of this powerful yet pensive verse really speaks to me, Sanaa! What a sad state of affairs.
Thank you so much, Punam 🤗 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
We spend too much time inside our own little bubbles of safety while the world cries out for help. Beautifully said.
That is true. Thank you so much, Kerfe 🙂 so glad the poem appealed to you 💄❤️
My dear Sanaa,
This is such a powerful, ‘digging deep’ poem … I am so sorry I didn’t have the chance to listen as you read it aloud. A tear-jerking, emotional write.
You were greatly missed, Helen! Thank you so much, so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Such a powerful, keenly observed and moving write, Sanaa <3 I'm sorry I wasn't able to hear you read yesterday, I wasn't able to make it. I can't get over the turmoil of what's happening in Pakistan at the moment, it's unbearable to watch let alone live through. You put it so well in your poem, beautifully despite the stark reality you speak of. Hope you are well <3
Thank you so much, my dearest Sunra 🥰 so glad you were moved by the poem. I will go and drop you a message 💄❤️
A powerful and moving poem, Sanaa. I particularly like those “abalone-grey clouds”.
JIM
Thank you so much, Jim 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Speaking in between the lines is sometimes necessary to say what has to be said. Very well done Sanaa.
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
A call to arms, with your usual elegance of thought and word, Sanaa.
Thank you so much, Dora 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
hope you are safe and sound Sanaa. the observations in this are elegantly put across.
Thank you so much, Rog 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Yes I am, thank you for asking!
I apologize for this very late comment, Sanaa. It was wonderful (as always) to hear you read. 💙 This is such a powerful, moving piece. Those final lines especially are a call and a reminder.
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️