The Aroma of Darkness

September 2, 2017

Poems

aroma-darkness

There are many veils to fog the view,
Many mists that came with myopia
to hug me at the brink of boyhood,
shattering a vulturous utopia.

To a lad with concaved countenance,
came a blaze following the smoke,
a kinsman dubbed as astigmia
to lend the next layer to the cloak.

In the deepening ink of eventide,
a nightfall awaits in hyperopia —
It has already begun to occlude
the opaline orbs of the corneas.

But it pours more than it rains,
the haloed rainbows of headlights
on the roads hiss past with omens
of impending charcoal nights.

What is the aroma of darkness I ask,
What is the song of a burning sun?
Is it the world in a nebulous mask,
Or a cocoon the eyes can’t shun?

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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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18 Comments on “The Aroma of Darkness”

  1. Bruce Goodman Says:

    This captures one of my deepest fears… and the aroma of darkness is not in the eye but in ones fears. It is in the simplest of poetic forms and yet is able to carry such a massive weight with it. I am reminded of William Blake:

    This Lifes dim Windows of the Soul
    Distorts the Heavens from Pole to Pole
    And leads you to Believe a Lie
    When you see with not thro the Eye
    That was born in a night to perish in a night
    When the Soul slept in the beams of Light.

    Reply

  2. The Hook Says:

    Mastering poetry has always eluded me but you are a master, my friend.

    Reply

  3. derrickjknight Says:

    As I read your excellent poem, I feared that it would, but hoped it would not be autobiographical. Your exchange with Bruce informs me otherwise. My own shortsightedness has improved with age. I hope that may be the case for you, Uma

    Reply

    • umashankar Says:

      As it happens, Derrick, it is partially autobiographical. The rest, as Bruce has said, is a projection of the deepest fears. I am glad your short-sightedness has improved.

      Reply

  4. willowwrites Says:

    I always thought the Impressionist were nearsighted…seems poets lean more toward farsighted. I miss my close-up vision more than I ever missed my faraway vision.
    Sorry the time has come for you. You have welcomed it beautifully with your words, Uma 🙂

    Reply

  5. Shubha Athavale Says:

    Oh Uma Shankar, I think I will need to call my Ophthalmologist son to understand all these vision related terms! Beautiful poem, so many words that point to events in the past few days, the pouring rains in Mumbai, the smoke of the bush fire in Sydney……and when all is said and done, hindsight is twenty twenty. Once again, a brilliant one.

    Reply

  6. Durga Prasad Dash Says:

    I am awestruck by the hide and seek of the visual and sensory permutations and combinations.
    Brilliant.

    Reply

  7. inesephoto Says:

    I am so sorry to hear you have myopia. I have an idea about what it means to live in a shaky foggy world since my daughter has learned to live in such a world three years ago. To compensate your eyesight you are bestowed with senses beyond ordinary. Don’t you ‘see’ more than most of people? 🙂 Sending you best wishes.

    Reply

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