Song and the bottom of the root

Go, I am to reclaim you as a song that misfits the memorabilia. A song that rustles through from branch to branch pecking, over and over, at all the blossoms cramming into a gap which has been otherwise declared truly unbridgeable, yet glistening. I once was a place. You have come a long way to hand me a song like that.

To think that you are a song, because a song can open and reopen the wounds of past and passing. And when you cared to roll over those immaculate burns, nothing came out healed. Now the suture does not quite appear as a mere buzz as dead blood threads keep seeping through the parchment. What is it a song, a brooding beak, or an engine blowing smoke, a falsetto of that kind?

You as a song, because a song flows down to read the retreat address over and over and fails. Flow is something that is innate to the song. And flow holds at its root an incessant movement, a reforming displacement, an eternal slippage, a bubbling friction being dragged away from where it was previously remembered. The journey of the song could only mean the drifting waves that undercut the shoreline to carry it off. Am I to think of you as a song slipping away from the root harbored deep in the throat? No oysterhood, no cries, I know the song always riles the bottom of the root.


Debasis Mukhopadhyay lives and writes in Montreal, Canada. His poems have appeared in publications in the USA & UK including  The Curly MindI am not a silent poetWith Painted WordsYellow Chair ReviewThirteen Myna BirdsOf/WithSilver Birch PressThe Bitchin’ KitschFoliate OakEunoia ReviewSnapping TwigFragments of Chiaroscuro, among others. Follow him at or @dbasis_m on Twitter.

9 thoughts on “Song and the bottom of the root

  1. Pingback: of the curly mind | debasis mukhopadhyay

  2. This is so amazing how our words fly away from ourselves and take root into those others are thinking. These words of Juan Ramon Jimenez took root in me since ages :” Roots and wings. Let the wing grow roots and the roots fly.” I perhaps remembered them when I wrote the above piece.


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