Published September 1st, 2023
by Arbas Ali
(Guwahati, Assam, India)
A far-flung handmaid's tale
Not so distant, within hand's reach now
The earth is sickened, bellowing
Of woes, of its rulers
That man with his boyish gait
Adjoined to the water-filter
Is killing off selves after selves
(Not unlike shedding snake-skin;
One's relationship with oneself is subject to test)
In the time taken to fill up a flask
Kierkegaard'd agree that chaos
Ensues outside your mother's womb
And yet, Murphy's law must hold still, true
In a time where sleep schedules
Are worse than a stray dog's quest for scraps
Oh – but – your suffering and anxiety
Marks thy spiritual nature, assuages
Kierkegaard; and suffering is remedy, perhaps,
Next to redemption
Did Tennyson not prophesize a kinder tomorrow?
That "Hope / Smiles from the threshold
of the year to come / Whispering
It will be happier;"
Nonetheless, what does one know?
In adulting there's no time for surprises
There are only schedules
Arbas Ali has completed his Masters in English Literature at Gauhati University. Most of all, stories beguile him. More often than not, he is an onlooker, an observer, listening and binding a knot mentally – and tightening it – to write about anything that fascinates him. Poems are his most prompt medium, apart from short stories. He is also intent on filmmaking.
This poem is included in Poetry World #7, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in India Poetry Magazine:
Oneness of Speakers
by Priyadarshi Ravi
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