about poetry – ACT II


“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt,
and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” ? Leonardo da Vinci

About Poetry – Act II

Is it a will-o-wisp?
A feverish attempt
To perpetuate
Felt gush
Of awe at sight
Of nature’s beauty
Gurgling babies
Kittens, puppies
Golden oldies
Holding hands
Sharing everything

Is it a sigh?
Of tragic love
A pearl etched
On virgin sheets
Dipped in blood
Drawn out
Of grief’s belly
Ever brooding

It is a cry of joy?
A culmination
Of lovers union
Despite of, in spite of
A love so great that
Fully smitten
Each committed
To sacrifice self
For other, two bodies
One soul, side by side
Swinging in same
Hammock of love

Is it an angry cry?
Of thwarted love
Spurned, a slow burn
Excruciatingly painful
Simmering a potent decoction
Veritable witches brew admixed
With bile and curses
In verses

Is it a celebration?
An affirmation
Of life as is
Every incandescent
Moment as a scintillating
Prism of a dew drop
Wobbling on a lush petal
Or a soaking tender shoot
A hush of awe at every
Vermilion sunrise, sunset
An obeisance to the powers
That be – master craftsman
That sculpted
You and me

Poetry is all that
And more
It is
Virgin sheets
In writ notes
5.24.2014 –bina

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.” ? Pablo Neruda

image is sourced from OSHO website-disclaimer


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