To celebrate a dear friend’s birthday. A little late in the day but then that’s quite natural for this blogger.
“I don’t like your blog anymore!”
He raised an eyebrow, cradling the cellphone under his ear, as he typed the zillionth post on reservations.
The orkut page opens.
A smile caving into her cheeks. Silk ribbons framed a cheery face.
“Chalo poetry sunayenge”, he offers as a compromise.
Maybe he’d given them all an overdose of PWT.
Wooden window shutters clapped silently in amused laughter somewhere.
Filed under: Literature/Poetry
R
neat scotch!
…Those intricately joined fingers
snapping back against the fluttering notes,
like insects buzzing with no rhythm.
A carnival of nomadic hearts waits with bated breath.
Restless moment
paces from one side of the window to the other.
singing to its feet beat.
I know dear, you can wait a little while longer to hide them.
Jyo
waise forgot to add ki badi acchi dost lagti hai aapki….hamare liye to kabhi bhi nahi likha!
….In these darkened rooms, where I spend
oppresive days, I pace to and fro
to find the windows. — When a window
opens, it will be a consolation. –
But the windows cannot be found, or I cannot
find them. And maybe it is best that I do not find them.
Maybe the light will be a new tyranny.
Who knows what new things it will reveal…..
as penned by a great thinker when he encountered…..what?
U confused me..All i got was there was a birthday n titbits here n there! **phew**
interesting a perspective…!
….there’s more to it than meets the eye….Poems come out of wonder, not out of knowing!
take one word over there and weave a cloth around it…how true,
MacLeish said :
A poem should not mean
But Be.
Jyo,
Thanks, and yeah, poem can only mean.
Chandu,
Glad you liked. Ji, kaafi acchi hai dosti.
Scribblez,
It was not really meant to be understood.
Sorry!