Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Inam Hussain Mullick writes

Confessions in Simple Language

I am a car
that crashed too many times,

now beyond

repair, almost,

I have failed

many things, many people,

many loves,

perhaps even God,

but never

my poetry,

I have witnessed

the death

of hope

and its resurrection

at dawn—rising

back to life,


pearls and rubies

from its wings—

like Gabriel in Muhammad's vision,

I confess

my poverty

and my human frailty

to the river and the tree

and return

with the wisdom

of how

clay battles fire

in the whirlwind mansion

of time,

a lamp

shines upon

an old staircase,

a panther

bites the wind—

the staircase is a marine ogre

in disguise,

waiting to swallow

gentle foeti, the ocean's new-borns;

among the wreckage

of this night, and tears,

I gather

the strength

to pray,

it is morning and it is revolution.

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