POEM :
RUNNING OUT OF SPACE…
The boxes keep piling up :
They take up remaining spaces left…
Sagging boxes in the past :
Again, stacks of boxes,
New books, same fate…
Running out of space,
Yet, the muse will not pause,
Nor stop…
Plenty of space on the electronic media,
But physical spaces be running out..
Where to store,
Where to keep the books,
Alas, history repeats itself…
Should the new books
Go the same way as the old ones ?...
Be they destin’d to become “holy”
And to be incinerat’d, cremat’d ?...
Be the bookworms waiting round the corner ?...
Hence ! Begone, creepy crawlies !...
Who will take care of all this
When I will be gone ?...
Everything be destin’d to disappear…
As in centuries past,
Groggy compositions will only be known
In their own time…
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Soman Ragavan
14 March, 2026
Mauritius (Indian Ocean)
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Author:
Soman Ragavan (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 14th, 2026 05:33
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments1
Soman this I take literal but also a metaphor for what all we leave behind. Our memories become worm eaten with time and too are thrown away. It is a strong write about a subject most wish to package up and store in that attic or back room hoping that it to will rot
Thank you. We will note one thing about human life. Nothing material is permanent. No matter how long we keep it, no matter how securely, it will be gone with time. Even soft copies might end up being destroyed. That is why we should keep soft copies at different places. My room is filling up with boxes of books, and new books are coming up....
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You are most welcome Soman
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