Wet clay remnant on doormat and heart,
discomfiture and misfit
in the in and out of traffic
frayed conversations
drip word and silence
and a pitter-pattering
slipping into silence
leaves no mark.
And I remember
blue mountain on green
road-curve turning
face into countenance
voice into song
word into poetry
resurrecting life from memory
and agitating pulse
from regular to irregular,
lifting heart
and laying it down
in a cuckoo's nest
from which it refuses to escape.
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in a way we are all cuckoos, and refuse to escape from our nests......
ReplyDeletethe reference is to 'one flew over the cuckoo's nest' which plays on US American slang for 'crazy'.
ReplyDeleteoh.. .. never heard that before.... i am blushing :)
ReplyDeletemaybe i'm too abstract! hahaha
ReplyDeletei am dense.
ReplyDeleteDear Mr Seneviratne ... we always wanted you to write a bit longer poems ... so that we can read them until you post your next poem .... we want to read more of your poems ... and these poems are good for the amateurs to learn about poetry ...
ReplyDelete