Skip to main content

Hallucination

I scribble past
The words
Just to realise
There is this endless space
waiting for your pen
To write on
But
You are the one
Who is
Running ahead of it..
Or
May be
Falling behind ??

SoUmY@


Powered by ScribeFire.

Comments

Rukhiya said…
A brilliant verse that talks about the different poets,those who write long,those who keep it short,for both :)
March 14, 2008 1:28 AM
Usha Pisharody said…
I am amazed at the way in which I feel you have grasped the nuance of the timelessness of space! With the words that sometimes arent enough (as it is for me now:))you have managed to encompass a breadth that is quite stunning.

Loved this one, the succinct way you spread a net across enormity, timeless and spaceless..!!
March 14, 2008 4:04 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Untitled

You travel - Through unknown stations, passing empty paddy fields. over quiet rivers that rest beneath you. You bring a lot of earth along, And smell of mud, fish scales and trains.  You whisper and scream, Put your nails in me, occasionally call it love. Other nights, we make peace. Strangely at dawn, When the Sun rises and you see me sleeping,  I hear your whisper,  you travel ...   ... Deep inside me.
1 comment
Read more

Untitled

Wish I could be a cloud one day I will love to be grey if its you To whom, through whom I traverse. Transparency is optimum; For I know you are unattainable like the sand escaping from the fist like the meaning assumed from the gist. look, oh yes, I can rhyme too. If you wish I can artify our world. Inspiration never needs a permit. You had asked, Why do I vomit blood. Interruptions in dreamy un-realism doesn't suit me. I know. So I write. So that I can breathe you in and breathe dreams out. Live long, you had wished. (Wished), did you? honestly? I will let it pass like just another Failed attempt to face reality Finds itself en-route to contamination. Oh! then what is pure? you may ask. Purity is not you, not me, but us. Purity is the way verses traverse. I will vomit to death one day. Do not pray for me. Pray for my poems who are quiet. Let them borrow my breaths. Let the poetry for us live. (And the footnotes conclude:) You - a miser in love Me - a happy lender. SoUmy@
15 comments
Read more

Of Ecstasy...

Beyond the horizon lies the gray that rests between your feet, delicately. Waves ripple and glide past the footsteps, Silently washing off your prints afar, Uncomplaining in tender reverence. You raise your arms as if to embrace the sea. I see twilight, I feel air gently hushing by. The crimson Sun is at its last breath And caresses you with quiet blessings. As your innocence reflects upon the gracing Sun and the soothing sea I stand mute and mesmerized... ... Oblivious of the rest as the triad touches me And I cry, just. SoUmY@ [p.s. -> This post of mine is inspired by the picture atop. I thank Jennifer for letting me share this. And this piece goes to Angel . ]
15 comments
Read more