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All The Lonely People Featuring Poulome Mitra Shaw.

Another in the series of Loneliness poems, from our All the Lonely People Anthology. This time, Poulome Mitra Shaw  joins us. I love the deeply woven relationship between a daughter and her mother in this poem, and the different kind of loneliness that going out into the world on your own engenders, leaving the safety of a familiar and unconditional love behind. Thank you Poulome for all you do and for your great contribution to Plum Tree Books.


walking in the rain.png

When it rained

Poulome Mitra Shaw

Sometimes I just want to find my way back home mom
To your beloved mornings of faith
When I simply woke up to those motes of dust
Shining in thin air little playful with the sun.
To patterns of expected life
When you would pack my tiffin with all those colours
Of everyday love of a caregiver.
To rustic deliverance of your simple rights and wrongs
As mundane as your archaic beliefs
And deep within I was besotted to the pursuit of an alchemy.
I want to walk back to your dreams and simple beliefs
of mediocrity, of stability, of unshakable love;

My pursuit of alchemy brought me
To towns of psychedelic lights
To music and laments
To jewels and narcissi
To debauchery and to towns
where it rains and clouds
And it clouds and rains again.

When it rained then I would get drenched tossing my curls
The passion and plague of a teenage heart lived.
Each drop was festive as end of it all you drew me back to your beloved toiling arms.
When it rains now I just look at the colourful umbrella in the corner
I watch it rain from my window I fear going down
I stand protecting my own
I don’t let the rain wash away the remnants of my home.
I remember you said, this is my new home.©

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About Dr Niamh

When I was a little girl (a very, very long time ago), I used to love learning new, really big words like ‘discombobulate’. As I grew, my love of words grew too, until I loved them so much, I could not stop writing them down. One day, as I was scribbling a particular word, a very peculiar thing happened. The word shouted at me, “Stop! Don’t put me there!” As you can imagine, I was shocked and nearly fell off my chair. When I recovered somewhat, I said to the word, “Could you stop shouting, please? I am not used to it.” Can you guess what happened next? No! I thought not. The word said, “I might be small, but I will misbehave if you do not use me properly. I will not tell the story you would like me to tell. I will say something entirely different!” I dropped my pen. I hoped that by dropping my pen, the word would stop talking. Alas! It did not. It carried on chitterchobbling, even after the ink had dried. I was in a pickle. I could not allow my words to run away with my story, now could I? I don’t know about you, but when this sort of thing happens, there is only one thing left to do if you prefer not to spend your time arguing. “Very well,” said I. “I will do as you ask if you will just be quiet and allow me to concentrate.” Since that day, I have been paying special attention to every word I invite into my stories. After all, a story should say exactly what it means to say and not be led astray. With love from Dr. Niamh, Ph.D in Learning Through The Imagination and Founder of Dr Niamh Children's Books. www.drniamh.co.uk

20 comments on “All The Lonely People Featuring Poulome Mitra Shaw.

  1. beautiful poem 🙂

    Like

  2. BUTTERFLIES OF TIME
    May 11, 2013

    Right from the start, from the motes of dust playing in the sun beam.. to “I want to walk back to your dreams and simple beliefs
    of mediocrity, of stability, of unshakable love”, this lovely poem evokes a sweet longing, an ache, a homesickness to bury oneself in a mother’s lap and find a safe world again. I loved it very much. Thank you Poulome and Niamh for sharing it with us.
    -Reena

    Like

    • ontheplumtree
      May 11, 2013

      Yes! Reena, There are so many different forms of loneliness. Thank you for your comment. Much appreciated.

      Like

  3. the secret keeper
    May 11, 2013

    It touches my soul with pain, knowing there was love and protection even through the archaic notions and faiths had differed. The experience of the wildness was acted upon but still there was shelter to be found if it was needed. At the end of the poem, that shelter of love to come out to give protection had pulled back from the symbolism of rain. It is a tender, promising, yet sad poem but quite beautiful in all the feelings it emotes. Jk ps. Well done Poulome Mitra Shaw. I did read this in the Anthology and remembered your poem and Niamh Clune’s perfectly chosen photograph. You have moved me deeply with this posting, both of you. I thank you.

    Like

    • ontheplumtree
      May 12, 2013

      The relationship between mother and daughter is so special, or at east it should be. Thank you, Jennifer.

      Like

      • the secret keeper
        May 13, 2013

        I think of my grandmother as my mother, so I would say that our relationship was extremely special. It isn’t clear but I think I lived with her just after I was born. The length of time is where the clarity gets muddy. In my mind, I fantasize that it was a long time. But then I remember spitting strained carrots out of my mouth while in a high-chair and my mother not being pleased at all by that behaviour. Now, if I can remember that moment visually, so accurately, it tells me her sadism feeding those damned carrot to me started rather early. What makes a person hurt a child. It has happened by so many throughout history but why? I know the answer is b/c they are week and pliable and an adult can have power over them. But what a fucked up mind participating in that kind of perverse, yes perverse behaviour. It is one step away from sexual abuse. Look at S & M / B & D today as a release for some people. Jk

        Like

  4. Uncle Tree
    May 11, 2013

    A precious remembrance that holds
    a cherishable appreciation in the folds,

    Poulome, you blanket us with sweet words
    and lovely lines; a sure cure for loneliness.
    Beautifully expressed! Sincerely, Keith

    Like

    • ontheplumtree
      May 11, 2013

      Lovely comment, Keith. I am sure that Poulome will be delighted by it. Always nice to see you here on the plum tree.

      Like

  5. basudebsen
    May 11, 2013

    Beautiful! Pleasurable pains of lonliness.

    Like

  6. Poulome Mitra Shaw
    May 11, 2013

    Thank you Dr.Niamh Clune 🙂

    Like

  7. thiskidreviewsbooks
    May 11, 2013

    I like that poem.
    I think I have a poem about loneliness. Let me write it.

    Me
    by Rapunzel (typed by Erik)
    Me.
    Witch leaves.
    All alone.
    Trapped in tower.
    All alone.
    Witch leaves.
    Me.

    Like

    • ontheplumtree
      May 11, 2013

      I love this Erik! Thank you so much for sharing your lovely poem with us. And you are right, Rapunzel would have been so lonely trapped in that tower. It is a very symbolic poem too, as is the story of Rapunzel. Sometimes in life, we are trapped in situations not of our own making. It is as if a spell has been cast. There seems to be nothing we can do other than to wait it out and see what fate has in store!

      Like

  8. Steve Corn
    May 12, 2013

    Love the alchemy stanza.

    Like

  9. Archna Pant
    May 12, 2013

    Each drop was festive as end of it all you drew me back to your beloved toiling arms…..

    Moved to tears Poulome Mitra Shaw !
    This speaks for the daughter in me too… in fact I’m sure for all of us women , who are caught between the two worlds … the heart rooted in one … each root holding, clutching the soil with a tenacity … a pull born of love and belonging … and the other where destiny has transplanted us , so mercilessly… and yet we are so helpless for ….
    “I remember you said, this is my new home….”

    Like

  10. Poulome Mitra Shaw
    May 12, 2013

    All of you are generous :)Thank you

    Like

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