The Cleaver of Oblivion

January 16, 2017

Poems

milkyway0

The Milky Way is dying, or is dead, by the lever of oblivion;
A billion suns will be shattered by the cleaver of oblivion.

I remember not the love songs lost or the updraughts of passion;
Drowned in sea of disdain, I am a believer of oblivion.

She will reap a million vows of my opponents over tulips;
The seamstress of her nightdress is a weaver of oblivion.

Gentry float on velvet strips to the banquet of the chosen,
I stumble over brambles like a retriever of oblivion.

In the end, no wind will shake the mellowing sheaf of barley,
No god, no man, no infant can be the deceiver of oblivion.

En route to tryst with elements, a black rose shed its petals.
The afternoon in the dust stood as the griever of oblivion.

Uma, let me sing to the full the swan song of my essence,
I am toppling down the hillock into the river of oblivion.

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About umashankar

I am just a watcher then. Sometimes I watch life. Sometimes I watch death. Many times I watch in between...

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34 Comments on “The Cleaver of Oblivion”

  1. Bruce Goodman Says:

    I’ll probably have more to say about this ghazal later, but in the meantime: DON’T!

    Reply

  2. Asha Seth Says:

    What inspired you to pen this beauty?

    Reply

  3. Abhai Mishra Says:

    Oblivion is interim, the cleaver of anti-stupor is more powerful.

    Reply

  4. Shubha Athavale Says:

    I love the song ” Dil ki girah khol do, chup na baitho, koi geet gao”. So Uma Shankar, please gao and gao and gao ( this comment is also in response to “The Orb…) There is a lot you have to say, and a lot for us to read….

    Reply

    • umashankar Says:

      The raven will keep singing for those who toast him. Having said that, ‘the raven spread out its glossy wings and departed like hope.’

      Reply

      • Ginene Nagel Says:

        I am toppling down the hillock into the river of oblivion.

        What a lovely arrangement of words. Taken out of context, it makes me think of a child trying to stay awake but nodding off to sleep. From now on, I will think your words as I climb into my bed.
        Ginene

        Reply

        • umashankar Says:

          I am surprised at the adorable vision of the child you have invoked. The fact that the image was sparked by the closing line of the ghazal, it augurs well for me.

  5. The Hook Says:

    The void has never been more appealing, buddy…

    Reply

  6. T F Carthick Says:

    That was very beautiful and had a delicious melancholy to it,

    Reply

  7. Purba Ray Says:

    Even as we hurl towards the imminent, the desire to be remembered, cherished never deserts us.

    Reply

  8. rajnisinha Says:

    Ghazal again Umashankar ji !!! you are a master at giving us the best in the written world —loved this one too

    Reply

  9. susielindau Says:

    A most beautiful poem, Uma!

    Reply

  10. ilakshee Says:

    I went back to it, again and again…And sank into this verse of oblivion. Each time, treasuring the nuggets that rose. Though there is a turn or bends that eluded my grasp. I will be patient and maybe rewarded with an insight on the words that weave her nightdress . I only wish it to not be the swan song of a gifted friend.

    Reply

  11. alkagurha Says:

    Beautiful, loved the last one.

    Reply

  12. JerseyLil Says:

    Your lyrical poem evokes a profound imagery, Umashankar. I sense an awareness of what is and a wistfulness for what could be. Beautifully written with deep sentiments!

    Reply

    • umashankar Says:

      Madilyn, this poem is a ghazal, or a series of independent couplets (shers) which correspond to the overall mood or theme, and the best ones are deep and leave a lasting effect on the reader. If you could feel the wistfulness and the deep sentiments underlying those words, I have passed with flying colours!

      Reply

  13. Shaifali Says:

    It is so beautiful though I have to admit, I have to read it, again and again, to get what you tried to convey. I am glad I read this piece from you, Mr. Pandey. You inspire me to start writing again. My favorite verses:

    En route to tryst with elements, a black rose shed its petals.
    The afternoon in the dust stood as the griever of oblivion.

    I remember not the love songs lost or the updraughts of passion;
    Drowned in sea of disdain, I am a believer of oblivion.

    Reply

    • umashankar Says:

      I didn’t mean to be cryptic—whatever meaning you find in those lines is all I have wanted to say. A friend in the comments above asked what I meant by the third couplet and I have deposed. I am glad you liked some of the couplets but the greatest compliment you have bestowed upon me is the spark I seem to have reignited in you. Many thanks, Shaifali.

      Reply

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