Poem About Life

Daybyday I find myself at a loss
Writing of things that I never once lost-
First, my sanity, convoluted. [Twice]Second, a bit of sleep would have been nice;
High on nothing but coffee and some love
A great poet once wrote of time above:

Time of galactic proportions, it’d seem
That everbearing hiccup would so gleam;
Stars with radii and dotted crosses
And mauve, lavender; grey rainbow mosses-
All this is but a second of lapsed time,
Gingerly limpid in thought – much crime

Osmotic mornings engulf yellowy days
Through blades, new grass of quadruped scavengers
Light years away from lunar shiny praise
And weeks away from parched thirsty water
Donuts, spirals, imploding holes so near
Gravitons repel mass, so dear, with fear

But while the bard writes his name wrongly again
Three hundred billion miles are nearer than home
Where pentameters were once iambic
And rhymes were not calibrated frantic
I long for one kiss of breathe-air, just once.
This may be the last line I ever write;

-Upamanyu Acharya

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