Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A regular person

Never been that regular a person.
All the things people say, they enjoy
are lost on me, day after day.
The morning freshness and the
dew drops under first sunlight
never catch up with my late rise.
In both rain and sun
I only run for the nearest shelter.
Not that I disallow little drops
and pencil rays directed at me.
I am largely private to this public display.
Admiration comes only later though.
Living for the moment scares me.
Every thought in me spirals across
to catch up with its ancestors.
I am mostly made of worries.
A modern man, you would agree.
My past and future are in a bitter battle.
And I seek refuge from time to time.
The words that I describe myself with
are so loosely arranged like empty vessels
with round bases in the kitchen racks.
A slight wind could rattle them into noise.

2 comments:

BP said...

I have been reading your poems via the reader and hence haven't visited the site in quite a while. New look is nice.

And about this poem, I really like it. Usually your poems have some well-crafted lines that I enjoy. But in this poem, you have very normal lines. However, you were able to capture something deeper and I immediately related to the poem. Very glad that some of what I am feeling inside were expressed here.

Musings of a wanderer said...

Thanks for the visit to the actual space :) I liked this new template offered by Blogger. The flying birds somewhat symbolize the wandering, which is what this blog is all about.

Thank you for your constant encouragement. Yes, as you noted the lines in this did not have that inner meaning. You could say these were some clever cracks but not wise ones I guess. But hang on, I have more pigeons and rabbits up my sleeve. You might like them more!