Catch the spring young! A brief season that brings vitality to the faded flowers the wilted gardens and fields. The spring! It removes the effects of the winters in the frosty climes or the harsh sun in the moody tropics and ushers in dappled days dipped in fresh hues and light restores smiles on the tired lips. Also, significantly, the young spring revives a hibernating artist by replenishing Within! ** The Snow the snow is deep outside the door shut inside in Toronto in the winter a whole world opens up Inside! ** Deep Darkness Evening no longer signals the darkness that thickens quickly, these days the tired eyes have seen darkness descend in the daylight also darkness that shines on despite the bright sun In a bleak country, where folks die quickly, fires burn merrily the solitude of night stretches into days, years, eroding innards cruelly the inflicted pain, unexpressed in the blank eyes, hollow faces! ** Scary! The wind moans Outside, sad tone It sounds as an orphan that mourns for dad, the latest victim to the Corona—mismanaged. The increased pitch, now like the lament of a young widow. It howls, the wind like the dog that misses its human family, alone in the pandemic, gone horribly wrong the losses never to be accounted and recovered. ** Summers/eyes I see summers In your eyes The brown paths Winding near the brooks Nestled under the pines The irises moving around In the depth-less regions Like flowers in the winds. Your eyes! The summers! Both—hot. The golden-brown Colours animating The doe eyes Like the slow sunsets Illuminating a sky Before it yields to the dark nights. ** Sky collage In the wounded sky convulsing above the neon-lit streets and smog Its punctured heart dripping darkness like spilt ink out of which the stars and moon create their own backlit collage that illuminates the space seen through magical eyes from behind barred windows on some semi-dark nights with the rogue wind sounding like a pack of hyenas. ** Mirrored fictions A white-framed silver mirror winked at her from the assorted odds of a shelf of a multinational mall hooking her on the spot. the discounted buy—beautifully packaged—was undressed and tenderly kissed for stealing an old heart the glass in a morning ritual ceaselessly tells she is the youngest of them all. Such a medium is adept at bending time reducing the glaring gap between reality and perception in a suburban Mumbai bathroom with its plastic trays groaning with lotions and anti-aging creams brought from a posh beauty salon. Mirrors, mirrors! What a fun! you were always wicked, playful, collaborative altering realities and viewpoints in such cultural narratives unfolding globally as was/is the postmodernist John Barth!
Sunil Sharma, PhD (English), is a Toronto-based academic, critic, literary editor and author with 23 published books: Seven collections of poetry; four of short fiction; one novel; a critical study of the novel, and, nine joint anthologies on prose, poetry and criticism, and, one joint poetry collection. He is, among others, a recipient of the UK-based Destiny Poets’ inaugural Poet of the Year award, 2012. His poems were published in the prestigious UN project: Happiness: The Delight-Tree: An Anthology of Contemporary International Poetry, in the year 2015.
Sunil edits the English section of the monthly bilingual journal Setu published from Pittsburgh, USA.
For more details, please visit his website. This is his second feature on The Fictional Café. You can see his first here.