it's just a bottle,
broken by time
(encouraged by
a wandering brick)
streaked with scratches
(like your newly
purpled hair)
and tossed out
on the garbage heap
for rag pickers
to make a rupee off.
it's just a bottle,
dammit.
but once upon a time
it held good wine.
and it now holds
green light
and magic
and the sweet sour smell
of memory.
and while i cannot grudge
a rupee earned
i'd rather keep the bottle,
broken.
Chp 905. TWENTY YEARS a blogger!
5 weeks ago
11 comments:
are u the helmet guy?
i think everyone is damaged, and anyone who tells you that he or she is whole and intact is a liar. i don't think it is possible to be not broken or made unbroken. it is an essential part of being human... it is what gives us our different personalities. i think a big part of life is embracing this brokenness especially in this age where people just use and throw thing and one another. yeah, we should all keep the broken bottle.
All I can say is, wow. I am not poetic enough to exclaim how I feel about good poems I love, but all I can say is, this poem just said everything.
Its 50p over here for wine...
2 bucks if its beer.... :-P
@p&b: guilty as charged!
thats an interesting perspective you've brought in, about all of us being 'broken bottles'. while i started collecting bottles for the sheer love of their poetry, what you are saying makes sense! we throw away so much because it is no longer 'useful', including people. aah yes @ "embracing the brokenness". thanks!
@illusionaire: thankyou thankyou! it's an honour t have one's poetry loved!
now that you mention it, it might be interesting t study the economics behind the prices of used bottles. i often buy bottles from the raddi-wala, and yes, wine/liquor bottles cost LESS than beer bottles. why, i wonder.
i can't grudge the rupee earned
but i would rather keep the bottle, broken.
WOW.
lol, gauri. thanks!
All the ambivalence and burdens of the past we carry inside us, I think, are a big part of what forms our present personalities and dictate to a large degree the course of our actions. I like complex characters in books and movies, in the same way I like the way light is reflected, diffused and refracted by glass and water. It’s the complexity that an object like a bottle brings to plain white light that I find fascinating. I don’t particularly like bottles unless light passes through them, or unless they contain some of the good stuff.
Anne (the “P” part of P&B), asked me once if she could buy perfumes coz she loves the shapes and colours of the bottles. They are really pretty but bloody expensive, so I gave her a big NO. Perhaps you should post some pictures of your bottle collection. We would show a lot of interest.
ZS
i have tagged you.
this poem inexplicably reminds me of a scene in 'the castaway' where the hero cries his heart out when his baseball drowns in the sea. very moving
thanks mesjay, though i think it's a volley/foot ball.
good stuff........the poem too.....hic.....where's that damn bottle
@anonymous: thanx! sorry 'bout the bottle, i think i broke it...
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