T S Eliot is Traditional Now
The sea waves iced
………..on the ledge I saw
……………….Eliot chopping it
—-Though hardly I noticed
The sea skulls were
………..bobbing up in leftover
……………….of stale breath. A square
hole was in my chiseled chest–
Spoons knives forks of
………..my modern cutlery
……………….Are hung in kitchen
–Though my ancestors cooked in Iron cauldron.
In breakfast I was
………..slurping seafood smoky
……………….smell of firewood
Spread in the dining room–
(My grandmother would gather them in winter clamorously)
My lung recoiled in
sharp smile of Eliot
………..Mist has deepened now
Absurd love
The day i crossed the
………..Line drawn by
……………….My ancestors
Rituals rebuked me
………..And i overlooked them
……………….Though sweetheart love
Was wrinkled in open sun
………..The red saliva was dripping
……………….Out of your betel nut’s lip
Enmeshed in my soul
………..You know my absurdism
……………….Lives in you and oneday
I was sitting beside you
………..Saliva was still stuck in car
……………….At once i pressed the brake
Globe on my study plank
………..Took a whole deconstruct twirl
……………….I am a postmodernist lover
BIO
Pragya Suman is a doctor by profession, from India. Writing is her passion. Her poems and articles have been published in multiple magazines and anthologies. She is Gideon poetry award winner of summer 2020. Her first poetry book “lost mother” was published in 2020.
