The defective poet

May 18, 2010 at 2:04 pm 5 comments

poet
Confessed guilty of injustice to poetry,
I sit ruminating the pristine poems squandered away.
Honored that they chose me,
But still could not resist,
Painting their dreams in cheap colors,
And embarrassing them with a trumpet of hollow words.

Somewhere in the eagerness to impress,
And make a name,
I forgot to listen to their silent whisperings
And read their secret signs.

In a heavenly generosity they indulged my conceit,
But privately grieved probably,
Of someone who sat on the treasure chest,
And squabbled over nickels.

Advertisements

Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

When you come to see me Transfiguration

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Sunshine  |  July 16, 2010 at 6:51 am

    The poems are awesome…perhaps the poet is very humble! 🙂

    Reply
  • 2. strider  |  July 16, 2010 at 4:00 pm

    ‘The humble poet’ does not sound very poetic tho …. 😛

    Reply
  • 3. Sashu  |  July 22, 2010 at 12:32 pm

    Absolutely awesome!! 🙂

    Reply
  • 4. Usha Pisharody  |  February 16, 2011 at 5:55 pm

    Bliss, discovering this! How do you do this? Time after time, poem after poem! Not squabbling. And certainly not nickels 🙂

    Nuggets. Each one of them! I am lovin it!

    Reply
    • 5. strider  |  February 17, 2011 at 4:10 pm

      That is overwhelming. Thanks Ma’m 🙂

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


Calendar

May 2010
M T W T F S S
« Jan   Jul »
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31  

Most Recent Posts


%d bloggers like this: