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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

09 August, 2005


"I hope the noise doesn't disturb your prayers,"
says the man come to clean my room.
His tone and question catch me unawares -
you'd think he'd come to sweep a tomb.

Which, all things considered, isn't far wrong
given the life I seem to have led.
The man's earnest, and the temptation strong
to tell him to lightly vacuum the dead.




Anonymous Anonymous said...

Brevity..apparently the soul of powerful poetry as well. This one has an element of great loneliness. Evoked dark, Wuthering Heights sort of imagery.

09 August, 2005 21:49  
Blogger annie said...

This, I like very much

11 August, 2005 12:41  
Blogger Shilpa said...

Finally something here which compels me to comment. Brilliant!

12 August, 2005 14:25  
Blogger the still dancer said...

Very Ezekielish, though I don't know if you'll take that as a compliment.
"Our silences betray us friend, I said,
He was past believing, I was old,
Collected all our prayers and they were cold,
Among the voicelss millions of the dead."
On a related note, am rather enamoured of your deft a/b/c/b/c/a scheme, the one you usually employ.

13 August, 2005 14:44  

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