Poem 1: Don’t Read This Poem

I haven’t written poetry

in a long time—

I cannot even, anymore,

the poetic, put my finger on—

but poetry has emerged

around me, more often

in this time than, when I would

call myself a poet—

i have, read more poems, and found myself

acting them out in real life—

is this observation (occurrence?) — poetic?

what do i make of it?

it could also be comic, instead,

a joke, unfunny, a glitch in the matrix

Reader, don’t think of pink elephants!

You thought of pink elephants, didn’t you?

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Poem 2: Read This Poem

Rilke said, don’t let-yourself

be controlled by irony

he said if one finds, one’s self afraid

of this growing familiarity—

turn to great and serious objects!

I read a poem I wrote in the past

it reminded me, of the cold in Kalga—

the occurrence, the observation

determinedly poetic—

soon after, i found myself

thinking of pink elephants

one must, they are,

great and serious objects

Some Context: I have written, on Twitter, of what brought me to write this set of two poems. There is not much to say, except that it hurts me to make sense of the world as anything but an aesthetic phenomenon. There is no other qualification of the suffering, no other qualification of the glory, that characterises the world. There are of course various kinds of aesthetic phenomenon, and maybe in another time, I would have thought of the world as a poem, but recently, its been occurring to me, more and more, as a joke.

As a joke, the suffering, the glory, are not inconsistent. Though the world did not promise me consistency, if I can find it in irony, why not! Remember, just because it is a joke, it is not trivial, not frivolous. It is the humour of the Gods! How funny is it that once, there was nothing, and then emerged everything, and not any everything, THIS everything! The everything, with a pandemic, with Hindu Nationalism, and climate change. The everything with goodness, kindness, and beauty!

There are problems with thinking of the world as a joke. You lose track of several emotions — it is rather reductive, this perspective! These problems have now begun to spring to the surface in my interactions with others, and though I hold that the world is a marvellous joke, not everyone can laugh at everything! Not everyone is a joker. Moreover, after the first few chuckles, it is not very fun to be laughing alone.

In an attempt to be more sober, to my own feelings and to those of others, I came across Rilke, and I can truly say, I am thankful. Rilke, along with my own poetry (the poem I refer to above is It Was Cold in Kalga – A Poem) helped me turn to great and serious objects, to the depth of things, where Rilke says, irony does not descend. What a joke that one must come across Rilke and write a poem about great and serious objects after having qualified the world as a joke!

Thanks to Pink Elephant EMEA for the image.