Wednesday, January 18, 2012

for the honour of a novice poem ...





















Poems are piled up on the table
they want to die but are unable.
 Stubborn un caged words soar and rise
wonder wings filling the days with surprise.
Yet a perennial demise is what they deserve
as they have neither patronage nor any subsidy in reserve.
They have donned aesthetic ecstasy using metaphors of worth
April is crueller for them too and they also are poems of the earth.
They too have played with epigram and clever beats’ rise and fall
and painted the azure sky, nature, ache, humanity and all.
So they begin to peep into magazines and various literary journals
attending workshops, meeting veterans hoping for a smile or some laurels.
But, alas! Only dead poets sell well, famous poets sell well
and profiles with heavy degrees and awards alone, excel.
Striving for a niche for all that beginners stuff
those poems stagger and stumble in an unpublished huff.
They forget the beauty and the fresh sensibility in order to hound
all they could concentrate is how to find cousins of Ezra Pound.
Disillusioned, fatigued and scared they fall on the ground
they sleep for a while and the sleep is sound.
In their dream they get an insight with tears
that life is fragile and only for a few years.
To love, live and be at peace is the best
let’s rest within, there is no quarrel and there is no test.
Let’s not in darkness grope;
for we’ll do what lies in our scope
We will admire the bee poised on a lotus without any qualm
and keep perceiving the rainbow bridge with hope and with calm.

10 comments:

Brian Miller said...

nice...on some level we resonated this week...its def a good old boys club to try and break into like anything at least as far as publishing goes...i like your serenity in the end which i think brings it back to what is important...smiles.

ayala said...

Beautiful write...Brian's poem resonates with you this week. It's something we ponder once in awhile...
keep writing because many love to read your words!

R.Ramakrishnan said...

Lovely meaningful melancholy poetry.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

I like your rhyming schemes. Just write and write and write.

Rose said...

Wow, a fantastic write Moon = you always excel with your fabulous words
and clever metaphors :D I love your writing :D

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Wonderful writing. I do believe that a poem creates its own beauty and place in the world. At least with blogging, SOME eyes see it and maybe it lifts their spirits, or otherwise resonates. It puts good energy out there. We write because we must, even when no one reads. It is your gift, Moon, and you do it so well.

Shashi S said...

I could relate to this on a personal ground. Its beautiful.

Shashi

ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2012/01/whispers-haiku-on-how-i-write-poetry.html
At twitter @VerseEveryDay

Ed Pilolla said...

i like how you acknowledged your frustrations, which center around the injustice of the situation. but that's what poets see and experience, seems to me. every beautiful poem unpublished by the industry and up for the world to view is another ax swing at the whole, teetering boys club. it is coming down, one way or another.

Mary said...

Sometimes it does seem like only the work of the famous or dead are known, but truly I believe each of us can become 'famous' in our own way within the blogosphere. And you ARE!

The Unknowngnome said...

But alas!they sleep for a while, let’s rest within.

You excel.