Poetry Forum

[ Against all terrorism, bomb blasts across the world. ]

Edited:-

A pair of crutches lay on the pavement.

Amidst a crowd, crumpled vehicles,
mutilated remains, security people,
flashbulbs and smoke, Ramu searched
for his white tennis ball.

His temples throbbed with the hoot
of an ambulance, in a stagnant smell
of charred flesh -someone pushed him away.

One pigeon perched itself
upon the idle crutches,
tweaked at a smallish globe,
messy with streaks of deep red.

It rolled for a distance, and stopped.



Original:-
A pair of crutches lay on the pavement.

Amidst a crowd, crumpled vehicles,
mutilated remains, security people,
flashbulbs and smoke, Ramu searched
for his white tennis ball.

His temples throbbed to the hoot of an
ambulance, in a stagnant smell of charred flesh
-someone pushed him away.

One pigeon perched itself
upon the idle crutches, tweaked at
a smallish globe, messy with
streaks of deep red.

It rolled for a distance, and stopped.

I like this - a boy more concerned about his tennis ball gives it a quiet setting - captures a still moment in time. The second verse gives us a quick flash of noisy reality, and I see the pigeon scene happening in slow motion - the globe being an eyeball, not a tennis ball.

Couple of suggestions -

His temples throbbed to the hoot of an
ambulance

and

A pigeon perched
upon the idle crutches, picking at
a small globe, messy with
streaks of deep red.

Was this written because of the bomb in Jaipur?

good one

Barrie

Thanks Barrie, it has got a lot to do with the bomb blast at Jaipur, though I was toying with the idea of writing on the same topic for days. I don't know what happened yesterday evening, after reading the news, the entire poem came to me. I have edited the 'to' part. Thinking deeply whether to omit 'itself' or not.
Thanks.

Yes the glob can be either the tennis ball or an eyeball, as you interpret it.
Cheers.

arunansu wrote:[ Against all terrorism, bomb blasts across the world. ]


A pair of crutches lay on the pavement.

Amidst a crowd, crumpled vehicles,
mutilated remains, security people, [I think this line is a bit weak in the sense that you can go further with it and into more detial. I think it would make it more intense if it were less general and had flashes of specific people or things. ]flashbulbs and smoke, Ramu searched
for his white tennis ball.

His temples throbbed to the hoot of an [hoot? seems out of place.]ambulance, in a stagnant smell of charred flesh
-someone pushed him away.

One pigeon perched itself
upon the idle crutches, tweaked at
a smallish globe, messy with
streaks of deep red.

It rolled for a distance, and stopped.

This poem is beautiful in the most tragic way possible. It's a very good snapshot of an event, I like how you indirectly get your very powerful point across. The line about the "smallish globe mess with streaks of deep red." is my favorite. What a powerful image.

Thank you for your inputs, everyone.
Cheers.

Very clever aru, shows the innocence of youth that around all this carnage his only aim is to get his ball back. Great depth there already.

The edited version is much better, and i can feel the tension and the chaos through the structure now.

His temples throbbed to the hoot of an
ambulance, in a stagnant smell of charred flesh
-someone pushed him away.- I love this stanza. I like the fact that he's delayed in trying to retrieve his ball, adds to the drama.

Very nice work, one of your best for sure.