What I Want to Say
What I want to say really
cannot be expressed
with a flicker of a pen
sputtering ink on a coarse white paper,
nor can it be said
with coordinated movements of
jaws and teeth and tongue
stirring air with syllables
nested into words,
strung together
with rules
of grammar and syntax,
and streaming like
a band of soldiers on a 26th parade
with maneuver and flourish.
For what? Empathy? Understanding?
No.
What I have to say
can only be manifested
with a blood curdling scream
angry, screeching,
revolting,
a surge of mad power, cracking
the glass panes of civility,
I become hostility
staring at cowardice and surrender, masquerade
as good choices.
You've destroyed and betrayed
yourself for nothing —
Dostoevsky said.
Desire is a death trap
chasing phantoms and mirages
exhausting whatever little time I had
here comes existential dread.
Higher highs and lower lows
going where the wind blows
the indignity of looking for love
to fill time or nourish ego?
one may never know
as you came so you go —
I have wondered
what the difference is between this body and that
especially lying together naked in bed
the flag of individuality should fly at half mast
everybody serves a purpose, don’t they?
Please.
Again I became mired in words.
Conclusions are not satisfying
I am exhausted
shooting darts at a moving target
And I want to scream.
A gush of rage
coursing through the windpipes,
squeezing the last atom of air from my lungs
and then I probably would have
expressed
something real
for the only time.
Writer’s Note: As I was writing this poem, a couplet from a ghazal of Pirzada Qasim lit up my brain. It is beautiful.
अब इस फ़ज़ा की कसाफ़त में क्यूँ इज़ाफ़ा हो
ग़ुबार-ए-दिल है सो दिल में निहाँ लिए फिरिए
Full ghazal could be accessed here