Neither silence nor eloquence
Has the power to cleanse
The essence of sadness
That pains my sense
And drips through my rhyme
Like a spastic's mime
That struts and frets
And puts out the light
As a comatose dream
In upward flight
That falls and breaks
In sordid night.
7 comments:
Does the jackal deserve such poetic utterances?It did not shake the vines,neither did ask the squirrel for help.It didn't put much efforts to achieve it's dream at all.A real dream is one where there is no giving up.
The poem itself is well-made though,good expressions.The middle four lines were very interesting.The pain caused by failure of articulation is well articulated.
The title was an attempt to cast an ironic glance at the expressions of unmitigated personal grief, whatever the cause and however the attempt, which do seem somewhat insignificant in the larger scheme of things.perhaps I need to come up with something more to the point...
I differ a little. In the larger scheme of things everything matters,it’s only our perception that fails to recognize them. Does one single golden button on a black shirt seem insignificant? It doesn’t change the black shirt but it changes ‘something’. Every little attempt to every cause has significance because it changes some energy from one form into another. The energy in the matter of personal grief changes into a full-fledged poem. But then,I am not a poet,you are. I must say,you are gracious enough to consider opinions of a no-poet.
As a student of literature I know quite well that authors would well be dead if they keep on playing God:)And as a poet I owe it to my few regular readers to pay heed to their responses which may well be different than mine.And since your profile will remain perennially unavailable, these comments are the only site for fruitful dialogue.
Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy cheer....
our most sincerest laughter, with some pain is fraught
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought
My life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning, and yet I'm happy. I can't figure it out. What am I doing right?
- Charles Schulz (creator of the comic strip Peanuts)
Post a Comment