A torrent of words flow out,
Drenching me in joyous embrace,
Seemingly ne'er to stop,
Sweeping me off my unsteady feet.
My spirit soars with raw passion,
And the powerful storm slows to a playful shower,
Melodious in rhythmic grace,
Spinning me around in rapturous terpsichore.
Now a gentle drizzle,
Peppering me with questions,
Knowing when I am able to listen,
And rejuvenating my soul with fresh raindrops.
The heavens turn silent, but..
A cool damp breeze blows through my being,
Probing my feelings, lending me meaning,
Making me yearn for the words that had flow'd.
And then I set down the quill.
(A poem to explain how a poet feels when he/she writes a poem... man the words are really flowing for me these days..)
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6 comments:
Very spontaneous. You did not bother about rhyme schemes. As a kid I was obsessed with rhyme and rhythm, but I realized that it stymies the flow of thoughts.
Well... sometimes you need the rhyme scheme to give the poem a sense of flow... but sometimes rhyme seems unnecessary. I wrote 30 odd lines of "Mirror of the Self" without a rhyme scheme, but it wasn't coherent. 2 months later, I started over and wrote what you see now... but halfway down the line the poem picked up its own momentum and I ditched the rhyming.
Sometimes I get deluged by several ideas for personifications or extended metaphors, and then the poem would go meandering into some dense forest and end up at a dead end.
I know what you mean... happens when you get too involved in the devices, and lose the focus of the theme itself.
Poetry is beyond me. Hence I shall keep my mouth shut.
Now this is interesting....
I relected the same feeling a few days ago...
I liked the last few lines...
"A cool damp breeze blows through my being,
Probing my feelings, lending me meaning,
Making me yearn for the words that had flow'd."
Yearn for that had flowed...You fell like a king don't you :).
Long time....
How r u doing dude?
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