Summer songs of vicissitude
Sepia envelopes
Fingers laced
Promises made
Of an eternity
Together
Waves crash
Like clouds
Above
Nimble emotions
Run awry
Like tears
Down a cheek
Like raindrops
And thunder
Games of peek-a-boo
Played alone
With clouds
The sepia remains
So do the clouds
Does time
Really heal?
Five minute writing exercise on a particulary swamped day. Feel peaceful. Felt like free verse. The rest is here to see.
posted by Prat @ 10:14 PM
17 comments
17 Comments:
Sometimes it is best not to ask for, or make, promises. Unkept promises only tend to make things worse. And promises only tend to make you look forward to an uncertain future, which may or may not arrive, rather than being content with living in the here and now.
As for the question whether time really heals, only time will tell!
Sepia memories, rain, clouds, free verse ... the mood is a very familiar one :)
Nice post. You have to have been there, done that to relate to it, I guess.
Thanks for dropping by Prat. I just read a couple of ur posts, and liked them a lot. Good work! Hope to see u more often.
Shan't dissect your poetry and strip it of its beauty. All I can say is that I love it and with relate so much with it.
waah, you are back to your original form again. simple, neat one!
On Sepia, a little while back, I wrote...
Old dusty books,
magazines, novels
all sold alike.
Somewhere in between them
forsaken poems
lay, forgotten.
When the hawkers sift
they shall be removed, for
they wouldn't fetch a copper
In a far away place
hands turned pale
as they held
prized possessions
close to the heart.
When the breath is no more,
the old paper shall crumple,
and the words, so heavy,
would each be a chronicle
all our thoughts cross somewhere. dont they?
Dunno why... but somehow this reminded me so much of 'The solitary reaper' by Wordsworth...
"Will no one tell me what she sings,
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow,
Of old unhappy far off things,
Or battles long ago.
Or is it some more humble lay,
familiar matter of today,
some natural sorrow, loss or pain..
that has been and may be again"
PS: Which part of the globe do you work in??
that was a lovely drop of inspired writing in my toxic universe. thank you.
thanks a lot for the encouraging words Prat.
i'm petrified at the thought of it, but thanks to you and NG, I might just try it.
if i do, you're going to hear of it first thing.
I'm replying here, because I didn't want to use NG's blog as my personal message board. :-)
thanks again.
oh, and I really enjoyed reading Mrs. D.
H
Time does heal.
It does. it does. it does.
this is something i say to myself ten times a day these days.
I'm sure it will some day...
chin up girl.
H
Li'l tingles
of cat-bells
bells of hope
squeaky squirrels
scurrying up trees
brown acorns
big brown eyes.
Potted flowers
in dingy flats
pockets of green
in all those nooks.
Mellow breezes
rustling leaves
rustic smells
of old days gone by
that sunbird
all brown
in the shade
purple in the light.
The power of things unsaid seems so much more than that which can be said ?
Your fascination with the morbid dark & desolate silences is delicious.
if u guess who this is u get something sweet. Or maybe a round of black mushrooms & seaweed?
So glad to read another of your poems. ^_^ Loved how "sepia" set the tone and color of the scenery in this piece.
Cheers. ^_^
Loved the pace of the second stanza. Hadn't read a poem from you in a while... The entire poem was a delicious treat.
Musafir,
Agree about the promises part. As with most else!
There is so much noise. Someone banging certificates, a telephone interview, two giggly women, that I cant think of anything else to say.
Kishore,
It was a pleasure. Hope to see you around as well.
Tangentielle, you know, when someone was doing just that a couple of days ago, I thought of you.
Yadbhavishya,
Kya baat hai, dude! Loved your piece. You're in good form these days. Haahaaa, not a nice thing to imply about your past, yes? ;)
Sunny,
Oh My. I love that piece.
and the other thing is top secret, dah-ling. The CIA is just round the corner, watch what you say.
Trans,
Love the new picture. you rock on, woman.
H,
yes, plese do something about it. It tugs at me everytime I read comments on his blog. am waiting.
Blue teddy,
course I know who you are, you wonderful lyrical wandering sweetheart. waiting for the sweets and the mushroom & sea weed in freezing restaurant by the sea with silky red napkins. you know, I have not eaten anything that good since. so, when?
Soulless,
Why thank you. Nice to see you again.
Ô¿Ô ,
Thank you for being oh so kind.
"Does time heal?"
dunno, but one can always look forward to the sunny days ahead ....
wud definitely make life easier..
I read your blog whenever you post and have noticed that your words are deep and heartfelt. I dunno if any of it is fiction or comes from personal experience. But they are definitely beautiful.
Thats all there is to say. hope writing those words make you feel at peace.
viper
This is gorgeous esp the first and last stanzas. Sepia is my favourite memory mode. :-)
There is a lovely poem of Emily Dickinsons that this post reminds me of. I could not find it on the Net because I am not quite sure of the title. Will send it across when I find it.
gegtime heals with time.But it does
Marvellous poetry in here.keep it up :)
Mangu,
haahaa, I think Sunny days are here already.
Full mast on life, I hear.
Viper,
Thank you for reading me and telling me what you feel. It is strange that you used those words, it is the only reason I write. Do you have a blog as well?
Do I get to read you?
Extempore,
I know! I love the word as well. So utterly...ummm..delicious?!
Waiting for the poem dear!
Maya,
haahaa, yes. It is always nice having you around :)
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