Sunday, September 24, 2017

Words and only Words

Those broken-winged words are crying again!
I can’t tolerate these nagging sobbing sounds. I plan to shut them out.
those hissing serpentine vibrations get muffled as I close my door.
But I can still hear them outside. They all have gathered below the staircase.
I can’t even get angry with them, for I understand their plight.
These words, they tell me their stories. The other day, one of them
 was hurled against the wall along with the coffee mug
whose stain is still like a modern art against the whitewash.
These words, they have fearful stories to narrate.
Some are terrified of the angry lover who abuses his beloved.
Another escapes when the drunk husband throttles his wife.
Sometimes they are thrown carelessly on the doorstep
 by a son who is fed up with his old mother’s illness.
Those from the little lad who hasn't been comfortable with the neighbor-uncle's groping hand,
yet no one pays heed, sob the strongest.
The words that have come from the strangers are still consolable,
as they understand that one can’t expect too much from unknown people.
These words, they come to me in the middle of the night and cry.
They don’t understand that I need sleep
 to get up tomorrow, to go to work, to smile meaninglessly.
I creak open the door to see if they are gone, and
they all climb up to my feet                                                
Words after Words
Some like a woolen ball
Some like a wrap,
One after the other,
all those talk
and conversations,
Piles of them, hoards of them. They all come to me.


Carrie Van Horn said...

It is that way it is for a poet and a writer....and that you are dear friend. A true poet indeed. I can relate to this deeply! Beautiful writing!!

J. T said...

this is kind of interesting. It has a mysterious element to it. Like strange in a meritorious way. great write!

scotthastiepoet said...

Yes indeed - you have a beautiful and open soul, expressed best I think through your creative struggle.

brudberg said...

I feel overwhelmed by those words as well... and so often it happens and I don't know where.

Sherry Marr said...

Baishali, it is lovely to see you linking in the Pantry this morning. I love the premise of this poem, the words coming, one after the other, to insist the poet hear them. And thankfully, she does...........those words tell dark tales, stories that need to see the light of day. A wonderful write!

Namy said...

Thought provoking! I identified it with the mind of a journalist who hears and writes of so many heartwrenching stories which rob him of his nightly sleep

ayala said...

Beautiful! Nice to see you again my friend.

Mary said...

This is really an interesting reflection on words....a subject close to any poet's heart. Love where your mind went with the subject.

Bekkie Sanchez said...

A very interesting take on being a writer. Some of us are more bothered by our inner words than others. Bravo!

Donna@LivingFromHappiness said...

Hauntingly beautiful as you expose the raw power and pain of words!

R.K. Garon said...


Saloni Sinha said...

lovely dear... It pierces ... The unsaid is actually screaming out loud here.

Ramakrishnan Ramanathan said...

Baisali Ji

I have been absent from blogging for several months. But slowly returning now. Blogging is undoubtedly the best medium to express one self. And I am visiting your blog after eons. And this poem of yours is overwhelming and I am completely bowled over - so simple yet so powerful compelling & meaningful ! Just brilliant,

Best Regards Ramakrishnan

ashok said...