Re-review
I leave everything to re-review
The books I have read mock at me
One book says I am the same old being
Another says I am new
That if I am even a man
has to be checked
under the pressing circumstances
like a fish bone struck in the throat
A black snake entangled between the green grassland
The pen that cannot just keep quiet
Scattered fly the vultures
The hue heard somewhere
The larynges hanging on the rope
The word crowd that awakes
those who are sleeping and those who act as if they are sleeping
The black forces have started
Note: "Every orientation presupposes a disorientation" - Hans Magnus Enzensberger
I leave everything to re-review
The books I have read mock at me
One book says I am the same old being
Another says I am new
That if I am even a man
has to be checked
under the pressing circumstances
like a fish bone struck in the throat
A black snake entangled between the green grassland
The pen that cannot just keep quiet
Scattered fly the vultures
The hue heard somewhere
The larynges hanging on the rope
The word crowd that awakes
those who are sleeping and those who act as if they are sleeping
The black forces have started
Note: "Every orientation presupposes a disorientation" - Hans Magnus Enzensberger
Once again a political poem. Poet is talking about the polities in general or in literary field. Whatever I cant just kept quiet, will raise my voice that is what poet's basic tone.(ஆதார மனநிலை)
ReplyDeleteஇந்த கவிதையில் நான் மிகவும் ரசித்தது, பசும்புல்வெளியிடை சிக்கிக் கொண்ட கரும்பாம்பு இது எளிதில் அடையாளம் கண்டு சாகடிக்கப்பட்டுவிடும். தொண்டையில் சிக்கக் கொண்ட மீனின் முள் எப்படி விட்டு வைக்கப்படாதோ அப்படியே அந்த பாம்பும். கவிஞர் இந்த பாம்பை out man out என்பதை போலவும் கலகம் செய்பவர் போலவும் சித்தரிக்கின்றார். நல்ல கவிதை.
Dad's Version
ReplyDeleteRe-review
I leave everything for re-review,
The books I read are making fun of me.
One book says that I am the same old being.
Another book says you are a new man.
Compulsions...
to re-check if I am a man at all.
Like a fish-bone stuck in a throat,
(like a) Black snake stuck amidst green grass,
a pen which cannot keep quiet.
Scattered, flying, corpse-eating vultures,
somewhere a loud out-cry heard.
Throats hanging from cloth ropes.
Seeping and those pretending to sleep
aroused cluster of words,
The black army has started.
Here again, I feel like there are two components inter-locked into one body. The first half dwells into ideas of introspection or perhaps carries with it a certain sarcasm...where the poet feels either driven to understand his identity or feels misunderstood by most. And this deep sense of introspection leads him to wonder if he is 'a man at all.' The reason I think the first few lines are introspective and playful is because of the nature of his readings or his books with whom I believe he spent the most amount of time with...It seems like a private dialogue with his library... that provokes him to ask who he really is?
ReplyDeleteNow, The second half of the poem provokes something that is supposed to arrive...like a lava thats meant to erupt. These images of sharpness in the form of a fish-bone or blades of grass or black snake seem to tear open the poem...and make us look at something thats seething below...an emerging blackness thats meant to consume the dominant. despite how bleak this visions the poem seems to install in us a certain unknown strength...