Poet, Author, Editor, Creative Writing Consultant

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Check, Check



There is always room for destruction
And that is why she has become
This broken record of regret.
You cannot listen for long without saying
‘Something is on the fire,’ I have to check,
‘Someone is  at the door,’ I have to check.

You cannot let this broken record play
Its scratchy song against your ear
Though you did call to find out how she was.
You do not want to check how she is anymore
There are other things to check.
There is always room for distraction.



© Abha Iyengar, 5th October 2013

3 comments:

  1. I checked my ire
    Yes it was the fire
    Knock on my door
    There stood my Tudor
    My disc is cracked
    Music remains intact
    Diversion remains
    Just another resplendent track-


    (c)copyright-vijay nair-2013

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  2. Beautiful!! I've always loved your poetry! Intense! Keep Writing!

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  3. Reality check: I am reading this from the perspective of one squinting against the approaching twilight. We are all vulnerable to the ravages of Time. Even the smartest could end up like a broken record. Abha yet again jolts me in my comfort zone as I become keenly aware that a fate like this is often not a matter of choice. Age can be cruel. Here's hoping that I would instead be a pleasant distraction to my loved ones.

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