Streets of a city

 

streets of a new city

 

The crimson lights begin to flash,

the streets of a city with their

million lives are being bathed

with eternal lusts. Through the

catacombs of days and nights

a traveler of time is seeking

a pound of solace to envelope

his wound of tiredness.

                                     And then

 the window of soul opens,

someone’s house by the roadside,

a girl with wet locks is welcoming

the evening. Rituals can

be simple sometime. They freshen. 

=

© 2008 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar

 

Reviews

[Ankhesen Mié]

"...a girl with wet locks is welcoming the evening.
Rituals can be simple sometime. They freshen."

Ah, so damn beautiful. The last stanza plunged me into feelings of sunset and another day being over. Again, well done.

[alternative_be]

This feels like the macrocosmos of the city and the microscosmos of interpersonal and intimate relations embedded into one. At the one hand city life can be impersonal, like a place you go to when in search of anonimity. Then again wonderful chance meetings may happen.
Opposites attract like Yin and Yang...

[JudyC]

...Rituals can
be simple sometime. They freshen.

Intricate images contrast with the simplicity of the last line. There is an intensity that drew me in, yet a delicate flow throughout the whole thing. I could picture the "catacombs of days and nights" with the traveler of time. Love it!

[Mark D. Chevalier]

Interesting patterns and inflections you make here Poddar.

Sometimes the daily rituals of life can bring solace, even in the face of harder times. The first stanza was gritty, while the second offset it nicely.

Good work Sir!
Mark

[Lyrical Love]

This my loooong distance friend was fabulous.
The lost (of being-without) wandering for solace
and often being tempted with the lust that is soooo
easy to find on the city streets...
by happenstance/fate meets the
beauty to complement his soul...
that is a healing and wonderful piece/ending.
There is hope.
Well done.