phantasmagoria

shell-1927252812529
the last night’s bemoaning touch still speaks
in its streamlined, suggestive tunes, to gather
support for its resonance, while whistling
its siren melody in the dirty swathes of light.

its own nature has taken a toll on its slighted
health with the calming chill of a crestfallen
rain. dreams beside the bulwarks of fantasies

gather all that is left of a tattered peace flag.
the grief is not that the steps were numbered,
but that they weren’t counted, to begin with.

it grows inward – in-in – perhaps to reach its
middle, its beginning, where all becomes one.

the trunk of the old banyan has adhered to
the loss like none other, unlike my eyes that
widen, still, at the prospect of a sting from
the mouth, that speaks of those lived glories.

but how do i strive to remember how to fly,
when i did not know how, to begin with?

~

© Anmol Arora 2018

For Sunday Whirl’s Wordle 367, Camera Flash at With Real Toads, and Poetry Pantry at PU.
Image source

***

I have been working on a new Insta handle for over a month now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.

20 thoughts on “phantasmagoria

  1. “the grief is not that the steps were numbered,
    but that they weren’t counted, to begin with.”

    Luv the mystery contained in these lines. Much much to ponder

    Happy Sunday Anmol

    much love…

    Liked by 2 people

  2. sanaarizvi says:

    Goodness that opening line is pure gold and magic! Grief and burden have their ways of messing with our heads as we strive to hold our heads above water. I love the way you take the image of spiralling and depict the feeling of anxiety.. of having a knot in your stomach as we struggle with despair and hope… a very powerful poem! ❤

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you for a thoughtful comment. That is the thing about grief — it digs deeper and coils around tighter that it sometimes becomes hard to even breathe. I am glad that you found it powerful. ❤

      Like

  3. Kerry says:

    Such a full and lush poem.. I am astounded at the way the metaphor has been realized. i felt this was a poem I could really relate to on an emotional level, and still marvel at your cognitive skills. Wonderful work.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. “the trunk of the old banyan has adhered to
    the loss like none other,” –

    these lines evoke such a great silence and there in the first line is the italicised ‘speaks’.

    you wove round the chambers of the shell so eruditely and found some profound questions there

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Jim says:

    I liked the read, Anmol. There’s a time to bemoan and a time to be quiet. I dare say your musing character will be quiet next time. Or chose something simpler and concrete, such as bemoaning his choice of not learning to fly (like he did). The latter lament is a waste of time, he could change. But one can never take back an unwanted touching.
    I think he is a habitual complainer.
    ..

    Liked by 1 person

  6. A poem packed with imagery, Anmol. I especially enjoyed the lines:
    ‘…the calming chill of a crestfallen
    rain. dreams beside the bulwarks of fantasies’
    and
    ‘the grief is not that the steps were numbered,
    but that they weren’t counted, to begin with’.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Pat: willow88switches says:

    the grief is not that the steps were numbered,
    but that they weren’t counted, to begin with.

    as others have noted – I really like these lines, and the way they suddenly appear, and speak so deeply within this poem ….

    Liked by 1 person

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