The other side of life behind the barbed
future
where they were seeking gratifications,
I was entering the past, without pretention.
Time will cleanse the mutation. I will
be breaking the god’s boundaries. A theme
of nobility has lot of troubles.
If I were poaching on death, that was unintentional,
life seeks a revenge on being denied
a place in sun. I will drink my own
pain.
My ashes are not meant for praise
They are to be strewn around on hills
whom I could not climb.
Only the fragrance of wild flowers will
bring back that cool goodbye.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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