Monday, December 17, 2007

Paper Monster

Paper Monsters, inside your head,
As darkness lurks, beneath the bed,

Decisions to make, beliefs to probe,
A guarded response, the monsters adobe,

The Folded Paper, the creases they tell,
Of a soul in doubt, a license to sell,

Same is the cross, different the nails,
A runaway train, on imaginary rails,

From resonant whispers, from silence et al,
Resilience beckons; legends, they fall,

Wounded soldier, a deceptive heart,
Begin at the beginning, stand up apart,

Paper Monsters, to burn or tear,
A return to innocence, an attempt to bare,

A blank canvas, that gaping void,
Those dreamy strokes, retracing Freud,

The yellow brick road; a vision; depart,
In search of courage, some wisdom, some heart,

The recurring bout, that clairvoyant call,
Apocalypse now, let sixth sense befall.

------ Alistair D'souza Dec 17th 2007


Anonymous said...

Alistair, some of your best work to date IMHO - very impressive. A sign of good poetry for me is if it works for me, each time I go back to it. And this resonates at so many levels with each reading.

Same is the cross, different the nails

I am still mulling this one - the amazing thing is that this entire poem evokes so many life scenarios - facing a blank page before writing - trying to make payroll in your cash strapped start up - preparing for your first major exams. Great work. Give us more!

Alistair D'souza said...

thanks Sri...

I tried to add a little fairytale touch to it too... the yellow brick road is from Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz... with the lion, the scarecrow and the tin woodman in search of courage, wisdom and heart resp...

we all remember fairy tales in our own way....

Alistair D'souza said...

and oh yeah... facing that blank page before writing can sure do things...

Reema Banerjee said...

Paper Monsters, inside your head,
As darkness lurks, beneath the know, this reminds me of Calvin, with Hobbes, peeking under his bed and calling out to a supposed monster, just to make sure there is none under his bed...there was this one strip where he calls out - Monster under the bed, they can't be that big today right? How much space is there anyway to hide down there? And a voice says - Very little. Calvin and Hobbes nod to each other and say - He's right! before they freeze and realise they had heard a voice and shout - MOM!!!
I know, I know...this poem ain't abt that but it left me with that image so i thot i wud share it :)

Alistair D'souza said...

@ reema
wrote this late into the night on my bed.. was wondering the same thing but then there is too much stuff below my bed for monsters to fit :-)

vivisa said...

Ali, thanks for the fairytale winter morning :)

Mayank Sharma said...

awesome alistair. Truly one of your best. I wonder why i did'nt read it earlier

Alistair D'souza said...

@ mayank
thanks :)

have another one in mind.. need to sit and pen it down...