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This blog is named after one of my poems. Even thought its not the best of the lot, I just fell in love with those words- The Psyche Unknown...

Quotation of the Day

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Vanity Spills...

On the terrace of my edifice, I sit in the nook,
Construing the still of the trees and birds in equipoise,
No sound humane, no noise unearthly;
I wonder what's in store 'cos this silence, deepens my sore.

I look up and at the far end I find,
The white cotton shield gliding like a dove,
Majestically drawing its layers to entwine,
Seeming like the power beyond is having a good knit.

Fluffy and cherubic, I can see it smile,
I imagine may be, but its worth every pound;
Thin white wool, as it is, sticks close by,
Thinking unity is might, but do I get a fright??

I come forth to find more dove,
But am I taken for a ride;
I see, my nest is turning dark like night;
And why do I hear, the perfidious screech of the owl?

Soaring like a hawk ,
Is the heavy curtain of solvent;
Aiming the pure cotton ball,
Playing merrily on strike..

Here, I see the wafers of wool-
riving beneath the rays,
I see no awe as they have no law,,
Heavy and ugly, each string treads along,
Chiming their bells in a villainous rhyme.

The little white mass is engulfed upon;
As they truely stand clueless of all,
It takes no time for the unending conceit,
To kill the purity and resurrect shrill vanity.

As the darkness opens its pouch,
The white disappears admist the vain,
Shreiks in glory, a glory over innocence;
Thunders out loud and sends a lightning bolt my way.

I cower in fright, my arms wrapped around,
I know what is coming down my way;
They dance and bound all over in mirth,
They masquerade and come down bay.

I feel the cold ,the thick driblets-
Sting my face, my hand, my brow,
Libertine drops of vanity spill down,
I drown in haze and seek a shore.....

Vanity spills and spares no realm,
Even the most beatified are ensnared;
Those exalted from the trammels of vanity,
Redeem me now on the path you have laid...


swathi krishna
31/07/2008

1 comment:

Mohit Jain said...

Beautifully written , i really like the sudden change of mood. But as a native from deserts of rajasthan my mood would have taken a contrasting swing. Here is what it would have been ( just rewrote the last 3 paras)

I bloom in anticipation, my arms wide open
I know not what is coming my way
they dance and bound all over in a contagious mirth
they masquerade and pour down on the parched earth

I feel the cool and the thick of the driblets
Kiss my face ,my hand ,and my brow
Libertine drops spill the vanity *
I drown in joy and seek no shore

vanity spills and makes way for weal
Even the most barren are beatified
All those liberated from the trammels of vanity
Inspire me now on the path you have laid

* vanity of heat/drought

And last i seek pardon for tampering with your words , coz i believe poems are always written for oneself and nobody but only u can understand the real sense. Hence no one has the right to improvise. Dont think this as an improvisation but as an attempt from someone else to express himself throu ur words.