Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Ananya S. Guha- A Poem


Circus

There goes a way
upside down 
where strings are tensile
circus is no tomfoolery
giants or pygmies stalk 
in a circus of  boisterousness 
no acting this,  only the starved ones
watch a circus. Jollity. Mirth.
No tomfoolery, sadness.
In painted, grotesque faces. 
Peel the layers, skin by skin
go deep into human faces. Breathe.
See them walk on ropes, cycle on life's 
thoroughfares. Dance into skies. The audience roars. 
Pained, that laughter is weeping, inner. 

Dance into skies.
Dance into skies. 
Dance into skies.
Bodies bent, shrinking 
with every dance.
Don't die. Laugh.
Barking dogs are near circus of hell.
Disarm pained faces.
Breathe life into them!

Ananya S Guha
Shillong, INDIA.
 
 

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