Wednesday, August 10, 2011

ashes of radiating electrons

my dreams are not for display
you can't see them
you don't want to see them
you only help in creating
myriads of nightmares

I let both merge
and photograph the images
drenched in reminiscences of you
when you will hear voices
I will be immune to that

my body will rise beyond it
I will stay awake all night,
night after night, 
while you edit me from your life
with your paring knife

let me collect the ashes of radiating electrons
and build a shrine from those


Sheilagh Lee said...

wow so powerful good for you.This is a strong voice.

christopher said...

Thanks...gave me an idea

I shall use the spin
(electrons often go left)
to build this castle.

Bone said...

I will stay awake all night,
night after night,
while you edit me from your life
with your paring knife

Great lines. Loved the staying awake to avoid the dreams.

neil reid said...

Direct as it might seem at first, yet retains much at that creative moment (when truth can go lots of ways) like surreal I mean. Just a mere six inches to one side, but that's enough to awaken the skin, wonder about the touch of this poem. Strong AND interesting! Thanks.

Erratic Thoughts said...

Power-packed lines...
especially the opening line,I liked it a lot...:)
Interesting title!

Jae Rose said...

We all pass on into has to think of being erased have conveyed this perfectly..Jae

flaubert said...

Gautami, that opening stanza is gorgeous.

btw How have you been? I hope well.

Nanka said...

A charged up poem radiating power!!

gautami tripathy said...

Pamela, thanks or asking. I have not been too well. I have missed your poetry. Entirely my loss...

Maxwell Mead Williams Robinson Barry said...


Jess PJ said...

Great imagery.
"edit me from you life/ with your paring knife" - Great lines!

Mike Patrick said...

The last two lines of your sonnet wrap it up beautifully. Collect the ashes and use them to build a shrine. One of the more powerful statements I’ve ever read. We’ve all experienced collecting the ashes, too often the shrine has no foundation.

Old Egg said...

What terrible sadness you have captured in this beautiful poem. I can feel the hurt and and see the determination to move on, but not without the pain.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for your visit to my site...and for leaving your link. A nicely-written piece! Reminds me of Isaiah 61:3.

irene said...

That last line is enigmatic.

Raven's Wing Poetry said...

The last stanza -- especially the last two lines -- are cutting. It does hurt when someone edits you from their life...and even more painful when done slowly. Well done.


brenda w said...

Powerful piece, beautiful...

Christine said...

love the title, for someone who lives with sleeping issues, I understand this one

Tumblewords: said...

A lovely, powerful piece that pulls from the deep. I love this.

Wander said...

This fits with a post by Christopher and my responce to his I will post here. Visceral,Now
strong cutting, and wounded is how I feel after reading this. May I have permission to post this on my blog?

only me 8/12/11

The pain is exquisite
My soul cries out from beyond me
Where once there was us
Now only me
The setting for you at my life’s table
Still there, unfilled
Plate just so
Utensils unused, pristine
How else could it be?
Without you in my life
AS before us
Now only me

gautami tripathy said...

He ment well (sometimes did):

You are welcome post anything you want on my blog. I usually don't respond to comments unless something really hits hard. Your poem does. I would rather not say more...