island

island

A Poem by poddar kushal

Island

They say it is five hour’s journey to land.

Five hours to see blue and green waves of salt.

Five hours for one blurred picture of seagulls,

Five hours to observe today is meeting

Tomorrow in a thin line of off-white.

Five hours to see, casually, human.

A too short time span to ponder on life,

Flashes of patchy memory and swigs

Of cheap wine, red, ruby, catching sun.

Gongs and buzzes, machine and man at wheel.

Five hours at most, and an island’s calm coast.

The island we have dreamed as a salt dream,

The island that we have craved to become.

At the horizon an island rises

As the human evolution’s lonely

 World, welcoming society once again.

 

© 2008 poddar kushal


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Interestingly, I live in Hawaii which is precisely five hours from the mainland. It's not all peaches and cream as one might think.... but I don't want to ruin anyone's perception of paradise, so I will save that thought. I will say that life here, although in the midst of beautiful scenery, is life like anywhere else... but a tad more expensive.

But this wasn't really about the island was it?

The island we have dreamed as a salt dream,
The island that we have craved to become.

But about serenity within. Or that's what it meant in the eyes of this reader.

Wonderful write!




Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Interestingly, I live in Hawaii which is precisely five hours from the mainland. It's not all peaches and cream as one might think.... but I don't want to ruin anyone's perception of paradise, so I will save that thought. I will say that life here, although in the midst of beautiful scenery, is life like anywhere else... but a tad more expensive.

But this wasn't really about the island was it?

The island we have dreamed as a salt dream,
The island that we have craved to become.

But about serenity within. Or that's what it meant in the eyes of this reader.

Wonderful write!




Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

the repetition of "five hours" lends an awareness of the passage of time..."A too short time span to ponder on life," reminds us that if we let it, time will slip away from us without having done anything meaningful.
"Flashes of patchy memory..." memories are seen/remembered the way we want to relive them, a moment in time might mean something completely different to a person who might have shared it with you. Each person's feelings, thoughts, hurts, perspective...all of those things affect how something is remembered.

Posted 15 Years Ago


Flashes of patchy memory and swigs
Of cheap wine, red, ruby, catching sun.

These lines are breath-taking....



Posted 15 Years Ago


Great imagery and beautifully penned!
Amazing metaphor!

Posted 15 Years Ago


I don't really agree... the ferry isn't really quiet... b/c most people have the radio on to hide the sound of the engine of the boat... I would much rather drive over a bridge and if there isn't one then there is no reason for me to cross the water...

Very nice write by the way I really liked it... I live on an island and I don't have to go five hours to look at the beach, but it is a nice place to sit on the shore and listen to the waves crash... But it was good! keep it up!!

Posted 15 Years Ago


I'm with alternative_be, about taking a ferry for 5 hours of silence. This is also another favorite of yours. Great imagery, nicely done.

Posted 15 Years Ago


We should be so lucky to be able to take the ferry across and enjoy 5 hours of silence, in order to reflect upon whatever we want to reflect on.
The reality however is different. We have to share the noisy ferry and endure all the consequences...
The same goes for the island, we cannot escape society, however hard we try...
This makes me wonder: why should we want to set foot on the island? What is so wrong with the place we live?


Posted 15 Years Ago



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Added on May 1, 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..

Writing