Worms

Worms crawling within my vagrant head
Pin pricks into the grey- tiny drops of warm fresh blood
Oozes, cools , fibrinogen hardens the drops into scars
I pick up my razor (writing tools)
Try to shave off the scars in my head
More blood, more scars- time passes with agony
I open my blurred bloody eyes, vision unclear
Look at the pretty wayside flowers
Lovely colours, Hear the chirping birds ,
Listen to the cawing crows
Look at the clear shiny eyes of the small baby
Dainty damsels, spruced boys , showered and perfumed
Ready for a grinding day - preparation for a happier tomorrow
Cool north wind - the blue sky , floating cumulous clouds
Gradually my head cools , the worms stop crawling
My head feels clear , I can see,hear,smell,feel, enjoy
I realise the beauty of the world , I jump aboard
The ship of dreams sails happily once again

 

© Bishwanath Mukherjee

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palewingedpoetess's picture

This reminds me...........

of the primary and secondary reasons I began writing. The primary being cause the words were just there and it seemed wrong (almost that of criminal in fact) to just ignore them and not write them down. The secondary I just saw writing as a way to clean up all the messes I felt that I had inside of me. It takes time but eventually you write through all the mess and when you get beyond that you find yourself writing the the kind of poetry you long ago dreamed of writing and when you are blessed you find yourself writing better than even the you of that long ago era dreamed of doing so. At least that has been how it has been for me. Think of it like a burn victim, every day the hospital staff peels more charred, dying, burnt, ruined layers of flesh away and that is very painful for the burn victim but once that is over and there is fresh, new, pink skin, life begins to get much better. The scars are there but they fade a good bit with time and the survivor is all the more greatful having gone through such an ordeal cause with all that pain came a lot of knowledge, even further, deeper self understanding and wisdom that would perhaps otherwise not come to the survivor quite so purely nor so strongly. One's journey of learning will always be painful at points but I can promise you it will also be spectacularly beautiful too..........for we are more than the sum of our mere parts and God always dreams bigger dreams for us than we could ever dream for ourselves............Thanks so much for sharing and seeking my critique out as well. I enjoyed reading your work. Most sincerely, Melissa Lundeen.

bishu's picture

Sparks

Could you please spend some time to read "Sparks" and give your kind comments


©bishu