he has no calendar

he has no calendar

A Poem by poddar kushal

He has no calendar

His cheap cigar burns to suppress smells.

A moment of respite and a strike

To light up the smokes from a death-stick.

Now a young sun leans on blue terrace.

He sweeps the night out of the city,

The broom turns day after day after…

The strokes turn each page of diaries.

So simple that he never counts day.

Dawn means broom-time evening means

A pint of spirit down to sway walls.

A pail of a place to lay darkness,

A wife not to touch nowadays as

He is pious and says” touching means

                                     Making babies.”

And there have been so many touches.

Touches of red on the sky! Wake up!

So just days blend and obliterates.

He, the old sweeper never counts days.

 

 

© 2008 poddar kushal


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Featured Review

Thank you for the review, and I would have to return the words to you here. This is fantastic, time is not real, or, at least the way we measure time has no actual bearing here. Well done! I especially like "He sweeps the night out of the city, / The broom turns day after day after�" because it shows the continuity of your point. I look forward to reading more of your work.

Have a nice day!

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

what an astute observation of someone hundreds see everyday and never truly see. your description is vivid with just the few simple phrases that you have chosen. what a bittersweet commentary on a life to say that it needs no calendars. that the strokes of a broom can turn diary pages. my favorite line. thank you for this.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I like the opening as my father used to smoke cigars and their smell takes over everything indoors or outdoors. You paint a very vivid and enjoyable picture here. So peaceful as well. Well done.

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

"His cheap cigar burns to suppress smells." wonderful opening line...grabs the attention and the imagination.
"A moment of respite and a strike

"To light up the smokes from a death-stick" Ironic how he finds "respite" in a habit that can make him sick or kill him.



Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

wonderfullly written, descriptive piece. you have come a long way. keep it up.

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

A great portrait, my friend

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

You take on the role well with words and display this person perfectly. Vivid descriptions and no calendar outline his life. Great write!

Posted 11 Years Ago


3 of 3 people found this review constructive.

Well written description. Nice work!

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Another great piece you have come a long way

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

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Nay
I wonder if this is a person you pass on the street frequently. I have those anonymous and familiar faces throughout my daily routine, and often think what their life is like.

Here, here for the "a young sun leans on blue terrace" line! Truly excellent.

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Loved this poem a great rytham too. He has no callender just superb PoddarKushal. Could I have a nick name for you my friend. How aboutPoddar for short. smiles. Metaphorical writing works wonders here.I too loved "a young sun leans on blue terrace. What a waywithwords you are my friend. xxx

Posted 11 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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Added on March 25, 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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