Lines composed in a confused state.
By - Minu Jasdanwala
The heavy load is in my head
undesirous to leave.
My eyes wish to remain closed,
fearing to open, to find more numerous
ghastly apparitions of the night.
Many exciting things happen.
They wish to remain in my head.
They snatch the making of word pictures
but I will - I am a poet.
I can anyhow document anything
but here I fail to communicate-
My fight with night.
This is my testing time,
my little head spins 360*
like an uncontrolled satellite in space.
I question it and then
leave it on the experts for care.
Nights are mostly dangerously beautiful
for the weaklings like me.
Last night I got up
with a handkerchief tightly coiled
around my splitting head.
The scene was like the 1960s Hippy movement
or similar to Axl Rose.
I once desired inevitably to bang my hand on the wall
but now I am a coward for such exercise.
Pain persuades to execute without much thought.
I went to sleep again.
I saw known-unknown occurrences conjure up:
The sword slicing the thoughts
leaving its edgy sharpness,
the blood splashing up
blotting the side walls and so on…
The day’s conflicts leave me alone
with darkness and its allies.
(The poem was composed in 2017)
