Early deadline of Wingword Poetry Prize coming soon. Submit your poems now!

While My Sewed Soul Journeys through Night

Prateek Joshi

Sown. Simmering. Sauntering.
The dream take to plunge in the outer sphere of my adamantine ennui.
From it I wake with indifference born in my dreamless sleep
For I have had many vacant nights, sleepless, and foregone sight
The valor, vanity has withdrawn in its appeal
In the redressal to the court I have passed through every reel
Like jigsaw must have I given up freedom of having meaning
I have disfigured myself into pieces for dreams to pop in mean 
No sold auction to weigh my dreams - 
they have lived a height.
To draw a caricature I live, at the epicenter of my quaking reaches -
the helm of which breaks into escaping rhythm
The loaned buttressal I skit about
The challaned cheer I hang off in spare
The spade speaks for its jaded lear
And the uttered repel a river in distance
I, eschewed, scurry to drivel off in dribble
The tower of hopes find themselves forwards
My outcome awaits a crystal sky
In it speak the gazer's gaze and eye the ire
White raise of eyes reserves a yolk to swim in
The squirming satires jet a smoke to cleave its marks
I hop on to the collar of the man smoking a bidi off the bicycle
He delivered a mail at my house saying he has seen the end
Leaves letter an unruly apology.
But for the sake of the matter's root/route, they hold back drools.
In the meantime I play into my ink some feathered relish
They seem to hover over the mocking air
For now I know my leads have punned to patient
My words have lead me to prescriptions
My sense sans meaning precipitated a seizure of mind
Without being broken, it seems a boolean favor
I do not see to end myself not like I see now
(I would seize myself and back through my time again)
But it yields a elegy that defines me
While my sewed soul journeys through night

Leave a comment