Poetry

June 8, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Alison Scarpulla

 

By

Somsukla Roy

 

 

THE CLOSET

 

 

Last night..

I went to my favourite closet..

Like every night..

To find peace and sleep..

 

Last night..

I opened the door..

Like every night..

To find you true and smiling..

 

Last night..

A lot tumbled out..

Skeletons, questions, exclamations..

Silver drops, bruises and then the rains..

 

It’s tonight..

And I ‘m still buried…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MAYBE..

 

 

Maybe.. The sun will rise again..

Maybe.. It will be a new one..

Has to be… Has to be..

For… I buried it last night..

With it.. all its belongings..

The night walked with me..

To the cemetery..

It witnessed the paleness..

The numbness… The blood..

The dip in the river of oblivion..

The air was thick with fumes..

Opium..

By the grave..

And finally..

It witnessed the rising from the ashes.. Yet again..

For the rising sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somsukla Roy

I am a teacher. I love literature, especially poetry, good cinema, music and cooking. I started writing poetry two years ago and I must say I have fallen in love with her. Poetry is where I can pour my heart out, where I can confess, surrender, where I can come out with the truth without the fear of being judged. To me poetry is freedom and my inner voice.

My poems are mostly about the subtle complexities of human relationships, about gender discrimination and the inevitable and inescapable monotony, futility and meaninglessness of the circular journey called life.

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