>

SUNIL SHARMA

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 1/15/2016 |






Symphony

In
A
Solitary
Home
On a
Quiet
Street,
The
Rain-drops
Sliding
Off the
Surviving
Tree-tops
And
Cascading down
In a regular fall
On the concrete,
Produce a
Rhythmic
Pattern,
And
Musical sound
That
In-itself
Is
A
Harmony
Unique,
For
The
Ears
Of the
Elderly
Figure,
Sitting
Daily
As a statue,
For
Hours together
Near the
Pricey phone
---A gift from USA---
That hardly
Rings.



Do I wake or sleep?

Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?
That is a question posed by Keats
In his inimitable Ode to a Nightingale.
Between a vision and a waking dream,
Lies a sphere unique processed by the brain;
An enchanting area full of melodies,
Some heard; some, un-heard.
The sole self roams these territories
Bound by time-space, yet un-bound.
Between waking up and dream,
The elusive state of being
Asleep and awake,
The intermediate zone/place
Between physical and meta-physical,
Real and fancy,
Determined and non-determined,
By heavy material constraints,
The creative mind navigates the
Labyrinth of the Unseen
And finally discovers the poetic
In the everyday, the Seen.




Portrait of a young cyborg

Eyes sparkle like beams of light
In a shaved skull elongated and deep
Marked with new-age hieroglyphics;
Features android,
Intelligence enhanced by smart technology;
Still, the vestigial heart remains humanoid,
Despite metallic covering, and it remains
Eager for a dialogue with human species!
Digitalized,
Maximized,
Optimized,
Futuristic,
A cyborg, mix of machine and early species,
Once called Homo sapiens,
Still retains some old
Human memories,
Desiring for a contact with
Remnants of surviving humanity
On a degraded planet in the year 2040.



Comments
0 Comments

No comments:

Blogger Widgets
Powered by Blogger.