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Ennui

By
The clock has stopped.
But then, it had broken
a somnolent decade ago.
Time has stopped—
it was supposed
to continue unimpeded:
ad infinitum, ad nauseam.

The cat does not stir
on the thornless hedge—
It’s frozen midway
through an unfinished yawn
of shattered semi-expectation:
its blackness scares wheeling
birds in their already hesitant flight.

The half-melted sun
is stationary in the gelid rain—
rain that turned to sleet last summer…
The gutters are still
overflowing since the fetid,
burning rains this monsoon—
the last rains ever…

Comments

gulnaz said…
brilliant! the way it captures the ennui, so exact!! great job!!

and thanks for liking mine too. ;)
6:43 PM
Shubhodeep said…
gulnaz >> :)) .. thanks a lot... loved ur piece
7:42 PM
Russell Ragsdale said…
Yeah, that weary "can't we get on with this and get to something else soon" feeling is so pervasive in this poem. I'm glad you let me know you had another one posted. Thanks!
6:15 AM
Shubhodeep said…
russell >> ha ha considering i wrote this during one of my more tedious classes in school.. that feeling HAD to come across.... :))
9:16 AM
gulnaz said…
no posts of late?
hope you are doing fine
8:10 PM
Shubhodeep said…
gulnaz >> i'm honoured to have been remembered by you... just put up a post...
12:29 AM
floots said…
particularly liked that cat
cheers
4:53 PM
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