deepundergroundpoetry.com
Limestones: Dearest Eternal Fragments ( Joint Composition with Anando Sen)
Tick Tock
Uneven are the hands of a supreme clock
Speeding like cats, fast & furious,
Sweeping fast the numbers of time;
Dearest hours are gone forever-
Only reminiscence beholds the grace.
See them in your dreams,
They whisper in a summer loo,
And shout & scream cyclones,
They still fall upon us like rains,
You love them all & above all;
But then you have hated them once.
The ghosts of our chalk bones;
Have decayed with the flow of time,
Their bones & shadows decayed,
Their smooth skin withered away;
Shapeless spirits & abstract time,
Swallowing the past of repentance.
Dearest memories once recoiled past;
Unfolding by the uneven hands of a clock;
You opened your eyes and heard a song.
The welcome song in their heartbeats
Faded away with the passage of time
And given way to the momentous melancholy.
Once in a wink I saw this picture;
My short temper evolving into dust,
Endlessly clinking bits from the past
Such moments, theories and thoughts
That still glitters baby-rivers in red cheeks
With small banks of temporary satisfaction.
And then comes the appointed day,
Time becomes the enemy forever-
Their precious gifts lay in our hand,
Locked in a box of glimmering gold;
We could open it anytime before then
Now its key lost into a shallow oblivion.
Uneven are the hands of a supreme clock
Speeding like cats, fast & furious,
Sweeping fast the numbers of time;
Dearest hours are gone forever-
Only reminiscence beholds the grace.
See them in your dreams,
They whisper in a summer loo,
And shout & scream cyclones,
They still fall upon us like rains,
You love them all & above all;
But then you have hated them once.
The ghosts of our chalk bones;
Have decayed with the flow of time,
Their bones & shadows decayed,
Their smooth skin withered away;
Shapeless spirits & abstract time,
Swallowing the past of repentance.
Dearest memories once recoiled past;
Unfolding by the uneven hands of a clock;
You opened your eyes and heard a song.
The welcome song in their heartbeats
Faded away with the passage of time
And given way to the momentous melancholy.
Once in a wink I saw this picture;
My short temper evolving into dust,
Endlessly clinking bits from the past
Such moments, theories and thoughts
That still glitters baby-rivers in red cheeks
With small banks of temporary satisfaction.
And then comes the appointed day,
Time becomes the enemy forever-
Their precious gifts lay in our hand,
Locked in a box of glimmering gold;
We could open it anytime before then
Now its key lost into a shallow oblivion.
Published 10th Jun 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 3
reads 988
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
I have always enjoyed everyting you write, but as of late it has become much stronger and more mature. Also, I am almost certain I´ve figured out the parts of the poem you wrote already :)
10th Jun 2011 1:01am
17th Jan 2012 4:42am
Ornate and very dense. I like the idea of hours falling like rain... also the idea that even bones have their chalky ghosts. At the end of the fourth stanza I think "given" should be "gave" so it matches the tense of "faded." The image of a key being lost in a "shallow" oblivion makes it seem all the more tragic.
