In the stillness of the dark night,
she lay alone,
sobbing on her bed,
contemplating,
how much she owed him..
This mournfulness, this restlessness
the inner convulsions, an endless island,
solitude within, body dying —
all this I owe to you.
And they were vast,these plans — ships
great walls of ivory, fine words,promises, promises.
And it would be December,
a jade horse above the water,
doubly transparent, a line in mid-air —
all this undone by the trapdoor of time
in perfect silence.
Some glass mornings
wind, the hollowed soul, a sun I can’t see —
this too I owe to you.
5 comments:
Farsh-
The concept of owing someone is frightening, isn't it? How do you repay someone else's kindness (or, for that matter, their evil-doings)?
Quite beautiful writing (as always). I just painted a dark night over the weekend.
I hope you are well.
--Minty
Salaam
Hope your well.
I never feel like my comments justify the beauty in your poems hence the lack of commetns from me.
I always wonder how much we're indebted to our parents, because with Allah (s.w.t) we can never thank him enough but i wonder if i coudl ever thank my parents enough.
ws
I wish I could write poetry like you. I may be slow to understand poetry at times (it was never my thing), but you write sooo beautifully!
I'm worried.
E-mail me.
hey there.... where are you..
okay, ur absence is understandable, but y dnt u blog anymore.. i doubt if u'll ever blog afetr october..
:P
n thanks for that pass.. :) we had a great time..
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