home bound city evening

home bound city evening

A Poem by poddar kushal

Home bound city evening

 

The Anubis sits at the door.

Yonder, the spell of rising moon…

The city with sighing fogs…

Look back at it and feed the Anubis

          Another day of your life.

 

Open the window of your room.

Let the creeping pollens of death,

                                               The polluted airs come.

She does not lift her tired eyes

                                At the level of you.

Her hands presents warm foods

Those you junk down your body.

Fool’s paradise is sparking before your eyes.

Turn the channels.

 

Anubis sits at the door…

Moon mourns for being bound on a city sky.

You cannot turn to another life.

 

 

© 2008 poddar kushal


Author's Note

poddar kushal
# Anubis is the Egyptian god witha face of a jackal. a god of death.

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Featured Review

Oh wow ... structured like this ! this is amazing ... I like best " She does not lift her tired eyes
At the level of you.
Her hands present warm foods
Those you junk down your body.
Fool's paradise is sparking before your eyes.
Turn the channels." I want to mourn with the moon for how my city has become ...

Excellent work. Best wishes, Pammy.

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Well done! I liked this a lot.

"Anubis sits at the door�
Moon mourns for being bound on a city sky.
You cannot turn to another life."

Nice ending but the rest held my attention just as much.
Unique and wonderful write my friend.
Thank you for submitting this to my "Loneliness" contest!

~ Helena



Posted 11 Years Ago


What a wonderful piece! When Anubis is through over at your place, could you send him over here? I could really go for some good death about now. :) Just a little death can go a long ways!

Great write!

-Gabe


Posted 11 Years Ago


whenever i am in the city, i feel these same feelings. and now i have a name for the One who is suffocating me. thank you. and thank you for such a spiritual write.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This may be a grammer error so you might want to check it out.
" Her hands presents warm foods" ********** Ithink that it should be 'Her hands present warm foods'
************ Or 'Her hand presents warm food'.
I love this line.

"Those you junk down your body."
We really do "junk down" our body and that in itself can cause death to knock at our door. Now if you'll excuse me. I am going to go have some ice cream. LOL
Thank you for sharing. Love All, Mejasha


Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Death skulks at the door, howling for its next victim. This is an amazing write.

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

This is a very mysterious write.
I love Egyptian culture.
Wonderfully written.
Keep it up!
I loved it.
=]

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A foreboding and mysterious write indeed. Great description that compels the reader. Just the right length and quite compelling. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha


Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

wow!! this is such a mature a powerful piece. The repeated reference of Anubis is quite appealing to the reader which is somehow describing Egyptian culture. So...its a very vivid piece with tremendous imagination.
A superb read overall :)





Posted 11 Years Ago


Hmm - maybe this needs some expanding or something, as I'm trying to work my way around it and figure it out. This is, however, pretty good just could use some tweaking.


In Art,
Rayne

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I liked your choice of words, it painted the vision clearly and beautifully. I also enjoy the reference to Anubis, then again, I enjoy Egyptian Culture. Keep up the good work.

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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Added on February 22, 2008
Last Updated on February 22, 2008

Author

poddar kushal
poddar kushal

kolkata, India, India



About
life and trying to earn bread made me an advocate. mad at my own stressful self, turned to writing. poems mainly. but, there are several short stories published in my mother toungue 'bengali'.i live i.. more..

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