Monday, 20 June 2011


Linger in my mind awhile, while the stars are still glittering
and the island of my sorrow is engulfed by the waves
of your love, forever drowning. It is night, beloved,
and this night is a rare night, full of a thousand glittering stars
and a million transient fireflies, and they are silent and eternal
in a way we will never be.

Stars and fireflies cannot kiss and perspire, instead
they light up nights of solitude and are written about
by poets. I would not like to die and become a star
and glimmer on your night of passion
with another. It would break my heart, and a little boy
would run out into the night and tell his
mother that he has
seen a meteor.

On a dewy morning, slightly bitter and cold,
you would watch a lily bloom, and in a way,
it would remind you of the first time we kissed
and your mind opened, not just your heart,
to possibility.
What a counterfactual lily, you would

On a wild summer afternoon, when the
scorching sun blazed, blazed red on stone and soil,
when no flowers did bloom
and no rain did fall,
and the earth cracked under the strain
until there was a drop of blood on a white sheet
that was the time of

But of course, bittersweet autumn evening
when the orange and brown sun
fell obliquely, through shadowy leaves
and a gingery aftertaste was left
both mellow and bitter
and everlasting
yes, this was the time we had made love.

And once, yes once,
the earth shook, and parted, there was a crack,
and we fell, plummeted into nothingness,
and arose into air. And we had wings, we were angels,
we could fly, we were one and the same person-
even alas, if it was an illusion
and while our bodies merged
for that momentary earthquake-
our minds wandered
in different countries.

And tonight, tonight is a night of
endless desire and departure, for you see,
we are on different continents and yet
our minds have met. But our bodies
though under the same constellation
cannot find any consolation.
They know these lies
called fireflies.
They want dewy mornings
sad autumn evenings
blazing summer afternoons.

They want
an earthquake-

this moment.


Baudolino said...

I love this poem. Really.

Elendil said...


Phatiye diyechis.

Amazing stuff.

This is why I had immediately asked you to marry me when I first read your poetry. Chotto kore earthquake hoye chilo, in my mind. :D

Arse Poetica. said...