Puppies. A personal vision by the author Adreyo Sen. Enjoy his poetry, it’s always full of beautiful images and deep meanings.
Puppies suggest a sad, agnostic resignation with Life.
They are romantics and students of futility. Their eyes
are melancholic and their movements seem to convey
a patient suffering of the tendency of marble plains
to become staircases. Occasionally, they survey
each other with a kind of wearied, old-man sympathy
that is intensely amusing to watch, if also uncomfortably
moving. With pudgy and useless paws, they seek to
console their brothers and smack their mouths instead.
Puppies like dark spaces. They muse piteously under your chair,
tantalized by your slipper. They try to dive into stray
I wish babies were like puppies. That they were silent and softly pleasing
parcels of grief padding their stunned way through immense
domestic plains, submitting mutely to the cruelly partial
flow of my kisses. I wish that they too regarded
with silent and disbelieving amusement my attempts
to fold them up, or make them into an ink rag.
Babies are too much like the disagreeable humans
that produce them with too little warning and too much
ceremony and insist on carrying around filled with
snot and rage till they can be hurled in all their
vengeful glee at a disdained relative. Babies are
emperors with high-pitched sway and ear-shattering
power. Puppies are the majesty of perpetually affronted