A poet’s milk & bread is invisible
A writer’s images are never finished
We gaze without worldly rewards
Like a monk, our meditation is the pen
Where knowing is no different from dreaming
With friends, like final dialogues
Or the conjunction of stars nobody cares about
Distances between our names, and the thing
Are abolished, we require strong philosophies
To continue, without realistic fantasies
Strong solar songs that aren’t diminished
By lovers leaving us, or the rent being late
When history sleeps, we remember
Here with creative love, a few things suffice
Hermits to a thorny corrupt planet
We make do with anemic hope buried
Beneath manuscripts of our feverish alchemy
The relations which govern hymn and speech
We unearth with curved-word and sacred vows
To ourselves, to all our conscience-mirror that liquifies
The spirit process of our melting
Until we taste the very Resurrection
Of ourselves silent, in what we do, what we create.
Photography attributed to: http://www.deviantart.com/art/water-16649646
This is lovely. Wow. π
Thanks mate, are you from India?
yes. π
Ah wonderful, there are many good poets on writerscafe.org if you want to come there?
I used to live in India, near Pondicherry myself.
Yes, definitely.
Ah! Nice. I have never been to Pondicherry, but I have heard it is pretty awesome. π
It is definitely getting more crowded and the traffic is crazy. I have a contest on here see “Calling all Poets”, perhaps you’d like to submit one of your pieces?
Okay! I will try to post one. π
Thanks!
Is it “I want to win a contest” because that is the one which shows up on the search.
The ‘feverish alchemy’ absolutely!
yes the passion that has no true satiety actually…what a fleeting lover is art!
So erratic, eccentric and obscure a lover! I guess we are doomed π
Doomed indeed, as my ‘tag name’ hints at the irony of this insatiable search, my soul hungers and wanders seeking satiety but continues to growl incessant with desire for the fleeting passion to ignite my wonder and for expression to burst forth. I am content with this doom π
This is absolutely EXCELLENT, The images so on. Thank you.
Hermit in the corrupted world
Yoshiko
>
Does Yoshiko see poets in that line?
Yes π