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From Poems That I Wrote Years Ago: No. 1 (The Chest Cancer)

Author:

The Chest Cancer

The old owl flutters at its cage in my blue room; wise,
it doesn't make much noise now — adjusted — to its
captivity to a cancer patient. The night lamp glows,
and throws my own shadow on saffron walls — old mirror —
I see myself once daily — I haven't changed much
outside.

This little balcony is my favorite place in this hospital --
quiet and facing eastward — it brings the first sunlight
that the world sees in dream — cars and trams — old men
grasping hands for youth — death hasn't made them
wiser.

I walk away — to my little room — through
the dimly~lit orangy corridor: I'm not a writer of fiction,
yet I hear groaning — the girl raped by her own father --
the young slave that killed its oppressor — now mad,
his cabin, isolated from all the inmates.

I often enter the room of the poet who has retired to
this healing home: he always loves to talk to an earnest
listener — words that come to his frail brain — like singer
who has forgotten the notes of a song he practiced
throughout his life.

I return to my room, and brush my teeth.
After a-bath, I comb my flowing hair: I'm healing. I shall
set the old own free.

Comments

Tanmoy Acharya 100 (author) on April 30, 2021:

Thank you, John.

More of these pieces are on the way!

Tanmoy Acharya 100 (author) on April 30, 2021:

Hi Brenda,

Thank you for your lovely comment. I'll be posting these retro pieces of poetry to provide my followers some historical perspective of my work. I wrote these pieces several years ago, when I was in my twenties.

I'm in my thirties now. Now, I love to write philosophical poetry!

I believe that poetry provides a map of the human mind. When a little historical account is added, the map becomes more elaborate. I think this is same for all poets.

John Hansen from Queensland Australia on April 29, 2021:

There is a lot of clear imagery contained in this poem, as well as underlying sadness, acceptance and lessons learned in life. Nice work, Tanmoy.

BRENDA ARLEDGE from Washington Court House on April 29, 2021:

This is a touching poem.

The sadness embraced within his heart as he looks at the morning sunlight.

A dream he wants to see.

A wiser man as he looks upon the world with a new set of eyes.

Healing inside...letting go of the old ideas.

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