mercredi 11 mars 2015

A poem from Samita CHATTOPADHYAY (Bengal, India) : THE CHARACTER.

The character, 
With a drooping face 
Puckered his brows; 
He looked daggers and came out of the macabre canvas. 

The path was wriggly; 
At the end there was a dog; 
The dog started yelping; 
But the next moment he gamboled and romped; 
As if he wanted to jazz up the show ! 

The man stood like an effigy for a few jiffies. 
But it appeared to be ages. 

Actually it was a sputnik moment – 
He turned his face 
And headed towards the canvas… 
Or was it a jape? 
Was it an escapade ? 

The dog couldn’t help asking the question : 
“Why man? 
Why are you going back ?” 

The man was placid; 
He answered: 
“I would like to change the role” 

The man tore down the canvas 
Crossed the threshold 
And created a unique character – 
An oddball, 
An eccentric 
A non-conformist 

Tranquility broke into pieces 

The artist and the dog gawped…


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