Sur-Prizes!

Sur-Prizes!
Honored by Usha Ma'am & Rukhiya

Worded

>> Jun 5, 2010

Is there a tunnelway to poetry
Where mine meet yours?
Two poets can not live together.
Verses make a world of their own
when they are asleep.
I have heard words whisper with each other,
make love, maybe.
We are insignificantly coupled.

I know not how
often have I fed a poetry.
Are you grateful that they come?
Redemption is dangerous.
They come as punctuations
and can unsettle you, unexpected.

Beneath the poetic soul,
there is another who is a labour,
who constantly bears the load of words,
carefully places, sweats and still does.
We are too lost in the hemisphere.

Lonely words -
Vagrant, vagabond, orphaned
ride the bridge of other words
and console each other
when the complacent is asleep.

That is why
You keep a rose inside them,
You will see it died of salinity.


SoUmY@

3 well-wishers:

Cinderella June 07, 2010 12:22 AM  

"Beneath the poetic soul,
there is another who is a labour,
who constantly bears the load of words,
carefully places, sweats and still does.
We are too lost in the hemisphere."

I couldnt identify more.

Orphaned and otherwise I have lived,
ran to and fro and bridges that lay continents apart.
The only thing that has kept me running.
Words.

Tamarind~ June 11, 2010 7:54 PM  

And this one unsettles me. It Haunts, really!

Usha Pisharody June 20, 2010 12:16 AM  

Gosh! You don't mince words do you? Though those words mince the soul!!!

"Are you grateful that they come?
Redemption is dangerous."

That is no mere marvel of construct; that is a tiny but tiny pinpoint dagger thru' consciousness!

In fact the whole poem is. I had goosebumps reading this. Bravo for the articulation. And thank you! You begin to make me want to redeem a few weighty thoughts :D!!!

Thanks Soumya! Just that. For the pleasure of poetry!

The Hungry Tide

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