The Dull Gray Poem

This is a dusky gray poem
Just like how you like it
It is weak and impotent
It is about colors that run
From freshly dyed bandhini
And sand
You shake out of your footwear
At the beach.

This is about many many desires
You buried for fear of judgment
It is about your own little tune
That was never sung to anyone.
A friend once came home
And there was nothing to offer
It is about that…
About serenades sung
To unrequited love.

It is a dull gray poem
Just the way you like it
Underplayed, suppressed
Even dry and empty
Plain and average
In fact with a little acne
And cellulites.

This is about a poem
That nobody reads
It is about unused skin creams
Unwashed hair
And “other” beautiful people.

You and I were chosen
For a special purpose
We are in every rejection experiment
We are chosen to be rejected
Your loneliness
Grows as sideburns
Wisps of curly, dry hair
Mine as frizzy, wild hair.

Your rejection grows
As incorrigible psychosis and lies
Mine as intriguing poetry.
Your purpose-constancy is another man’s woman
Mine is another man.

We are siblings
And lovers
And parents to each other
And our children.

We come together
As two arms of a scissor
To snip pain, painfully
We write long-winding narcissism
That nobody has the patience to read.
And those who read belong with us
And are of equally no use.

This is a poem that your wordprocessor ate
The powercut disturbed
The dictionary disabled
Or the spellcheck denied
The poem the paperwalah took away
When you shifted houses.

We are trapped as a clan of unwanted horrors
Under the stairs
In cobwebs and yesterdays.
Nobody reads us, nobody cares
We are trapped in ourselves
By being us.

10 thoughts on “The Dull Gray Poem

  1. Thoroughly enjoyed reading it ! So does it make me in to your circle or not ? :-). Very nicely written poem with right mix of sympathy, empathy, joy, comedy and fun. I liked it a lot.

  2. The paperwala did take away some of my poems. The sweeper here swept away my paper copy of Wine. Did you also realise that I am the poem itself? Did you just make me?

  3. Hey Ashok.. nice to see you’re here.. πŸ™‚ If you’re reading this then yes.. you belong here.. hahha.. and commenting as well.. πŸ˜‰

    Shashi.. this poem was entirely for you! πŸ™‚

  4. I feel like saying sth, but don’t have the words…Nice poem.. πŸ™‚

    Read this one..It is a famous song, and I feel like singing it to you now.

    “Train whistle blowing, makes a sleepy noise,
    Underneath their blankets go all the girls and boys.
    Heading from the station, out along the bay,
    All bound for Morningtown, many miles away.

    Sarah’s at the engine, Tony rings the bell,
    John swings the lantern to show that all is well.
    Rocking, rolling, riding, out along the bay,
    All bound for Morningtown, many miles away.

    Maybe it is raining where our train will ride,
    But all the little travelers are snug and warm inside.
    Somewhere there is sunshine, somewhere there is day,
    Somewhere there is Morningtown, many miles away.”

    you are very close to Morningtown. May I come along? πŸ™‚

  5. Hi there,

    You left a comment on my blog a while ago. I was looking at your blog today after a very long time. Nice poems you have in here. I’ve started writing poems since last week. Some of them are in my blog. Maybe you can give me some valuable comments.


  6. Pingu.. nice song dear and thank you… πŸ™‚

    Hi Bluecup.. welcome to my blog.. I shall surely look at your poems and comment. πŸ™‚

    Hey justordinary.. thanks and do come back! πŸ™‚

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