Dinner table conversation

Like a iron hammer striking a metal gong
The spoon clashes against the plate
Playing crude, loud, lonely songs
Of love, heartbreak and fate.

The old chair creaks under my touch, the one that we picked out together
The one you always wanted to get rid of for a newer design
You see I held on to it,
For my hope unlike yours, does not resign.

The pale white plates with light blue flowers clatter as I put them on the table,
The state of which, is also no longer stable.

This creaking, clatter and clashes, make noises make a symphony
Helping me fill this silence melancholy.
Even though my heart can’t stand this separation,
This melody, makes up for our missing dinner table conversation.

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Analysis of Mariana – Lord Alfred Tennyson

Hello readers,

Before I begin the analysis, here is a link to the poem for those of you who haven’t read it yet – Click here

Mariana is a poem describing the despair and isolation of a woman in an isolated home.

The poem describes the passing of time, the surroundings, the objects in the vicinity of the woman all reflecting the gloominess of her life.

The following lines are repeated after every stanza, in some way or the other –

 “I am aweary, aweary,
I would that I were dead!”

This describes the extent of the despair felt by the woman. She feels cut off from the world, lonely, deserted by her lover.

She spends her days in tears and her nights wide awake, wishing for death, for she cannot bear the absence of love.

Here are a few lines from me on the topic of waiting for your love.

In the morning sun, 
As I watch the children run
Happy and carefree, 
My hear whispers, 
Oh I how I envy thee!
For I miss the times I was free.
Free from the shackles of love 
The clouds of gloom above. 
A simpler time, 
When I was content with my rhyme.
Your absence now pricks my heart
I curse myself, for letting this story start.
I swallow my pride to hear your voice,
Even hearing your indifference would suffice. 
But why did you come through this door dear?
When all your promises were a lie. 

The dark side of love, one of utter despair where no voice is enough to fill the silence. Where no person is enough to fill the gap left by them. Where nothing holds your interest when life itself seems like a burden is projected in this poem.

Which is why perhaps, the woman, in the end, accepts the bitter reality that her love will not come.

Do share your views after reading the poem!
(Disclaimer: Following a few lines by an amateur poet in poetry by Tennyson is foolhardy. However, I am doing this to continue writing poems while reading this book Taking inspiration perhaps. )

Rebel

Like the little pink flower plants

Growing on the side of a dusty road

Surrounded by dirt and filth

Overlooked, but refusing to be floored.

Surrounded by gravel, they still

Rebel.

Like the little girl that is growing up

In a society of crime and horrors

But refuses to stick in a corner.

Pushing hard everyday to excel, what does she do?

Rebel.

Like the mother exhausted from a days labour

Struggling for ever morsel of food, devoid of relaxation

But still supports her son’s education.

Her courage is what makes her,

Rebel.

Everyday that you feel like you can’t get up and about

Shun away the darkness of doubt

Use your spirit as a candle.

Rebel.

(C) 2018 Sneha Pathak

Fire and Ice – Analysis

Today, I happened to stumble across an old favorite poem – “Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost. However, today I took the time to think, really think about it and analyze. For those who haven’t read it yet, here it is –

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
There could be many interpretations of this poem. Here are two I could come up with.
1. When the poet talks about the world coming to an end, it could mean the literal end of the world, destruction, doomsday, whatever you call it. So when we talk about the world ending, it could be due to either of the two elements mentioned – Fire or Ice. The subtle point here being, these are the only two ways the world could end in, either by being consumed, devoured by fire or being frozen to an icy extinction.
2. The end of the world could be the end of a person, their destruction. What will be the thing that destroys them? Fire, meaning desire, lust, emotion, greed, anger? Could be anything. Or is it ice? Icy difference (like giving someone the cold shoulder?), hate, apathy?
It could be the end of relationships. How too much passion, anger, emotion can at times sabotage a relationship. Similarly, apathy, indifference, lack of efforts can be equally responsible for destroying it.
What do you think? Drop a Comment!
PS- Game of thrones fans, what do you think, is this related to A song of fire and ice?
© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]
poem source – https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44263

The weight I carry

Carry

I felt light-headed, delighted,

tracing the marks of your fingers and mouth,

I carry their imprints on my flesh.

I feel burdened, tired,

carrying your memories around.

The weight of your words,

so sharp and painful.

I carry their marks on my mind.

The load of your betrayal,

so devastating, so mortifying.

I carry its mark in my heart.

The intensity of your love,

burning, excruciating, calamitous

I carry it in my spirit.

 

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]

image source – flickr.com

The sounds of the past

Here’s today’s entry for Word High July challenge 

serjilla_01

I pass by the tiny village

Unable to recognize this image.

I step down reluctantly from my fancy car,

My eyes search for familiar faces from afar.

Stepping into debris and ruins,

My feet are incapable of moving.

I see the old tree, where meetings were held,

My eyes with tears now swelled.

The lake where I played,

I chose to leave, the memories stayed.

My childhood home broken down,

The people I left, to go to town

are now nowhere to be found.

I close my eyes and reminisce

If I am really quiet,

I can still hear the sound

of laughter and bliss.

 

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]