What have we learnt and who have we lost,
Snacking on sorrow while lamenting the costs,
Three five to four five saw the ripening of remorse,
Intimations of mortality and endings sans recourse.
The future was shiny, now beneath its veneer,
We discern paint strokes, grainy textures all clear,
Decades hurtle past, and urge me "Remember!"
Emotions are sapped, memories yawp "Surrender!"
Spinning relentless, wobbling a bit more,
Tucked in quilts, miasma enveloping the door,
Greyish day awakens, milestone for some,
Meaningless yet, celebration moot and humdrum.
Things wished said, yet no way to say them,
Things wished done, yet no way to make them,
People wished for, yet no way to preserve them,
Words spoken rashly, yet no way to reserve them.
Forward we stop go, or could it be sideways,
Rushing wildly, forgiving fog in driveways,
Plebeians huddle on corners, ignite paper fires,
Dreams rise in ashes, silent the anointed liars.
We rose, we fell, we began anew,
We pushed, we stumbled, we faltered, somehow grew,
We sang, and pranced, and giggled and cried,
We laughed a bit, and tears crusted and dried.
Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight departed,
Be proud of us, of the nihilism you started,
To you we whisper our meagre leftover desires,
Don't vouchsafe these, till our eyes retire.
A memory to hold, hug, cherish and tender,
Winter is yet warm, while blues skies don't render,
Family blood dwells here, my wiser heart endures too,
Wishing for you unhealthy treats, words that ring true.
2 comments:
Befitting tribute and continuation to the masterpiece "Decadance". Feelings when dreams are unfulfilled, desires wean away..... want to quote dialogue of Ed Harris from Movie "Kodachrome" which I think is apt here. I may be wrong but here it goes...
" “Let me tell you something, happiness is bullshit. It’s the great myth of the late twentieth century. Do you think Picasso was happy? You think Hemingway was? Hendrix? They were miserable shits. No art worth a damn was created out of happiness, I can tell you that much.
Ambition, narcissism, sex, rage, those are the engines that drive every great artist, every great man. A hole that can’t be filled.”
- Ed Harris, from the movie Kodachrome (streaming on Netflix)
With a request to keep adding to your blogs.....and thanks for all the wonderful entries in the past. Tanvir Singh
Beautiful words.
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