Unending poem within

I am repeatedly writing the same poem
that I have never been able to complete.

It’s a daily occurrence for me.
Every morning when I wake up,
a lot of words gather before me,
picketing since the night before.
Their slogans not letting me sleep,
but I remain oblivious to their demands.
They form a sandstorm in my eyes,
stealing away my sleep.

I have tried to explain to them
that I am only writing for you,
over and over again.
However, they refuse to listen.
They tear up papers,
sometimes even burning them,
and stand there shouting,
“Why don’t you write about us?
Write what we say.
Why do you seek metaphors,
beauty, symbols, and melodies?
Those are not us.
We are not the spider web of language.”

But still, I am writing again,
and again a new poem.

Born (1952) and raised in tribal reserve of Jhabua, India, Dharm is a Toronto based Author. He writes in Hindi and has seven published books- five collections of satirical essays and two collections of Poetry. He is a columnist for four prestigious journals Chankya Varta, Vishwa gatha, Setu & VishwAa. His works have appeared in prestigious Hindi journals across the world. His poetry in English has been previously published in Poetry Pause, Fresh Voices, Harbinger Asylum, Akshara, Impspired, Piker Press, Scarlet Leaf Review, Dissident Voice, and Setu. He can be reached at dharmtoronto@gmail.com and on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/dharmpalmahendra/ Read other articles by Dharmpal Mahendra, or visit Dharmpal Mahendra's website.