A Non-Poet's Philosphy Poem by AISWARYA T ANISH
A Non-Poet's Philosphy
All poets write in insanity
Impervious, to the entire
You,
The king of your own poetic empire
as thoughts get formation
each different, in poetic efficiency
I,
An adulterated soul
You,
With the rein, control
And you make me lurk in your words
Like those lonely, pale birds
Your quill, into that paper, bleeds
And she says in her musical voice: Proceed”
and you portray my misplaced soul
in the veiled privacy of twilight
in your new-born mind of sight, deep insight
You,
in a steep valley side of paradise
idly extracting the elixir of the unexplainable
and redressed, arise
Exotically, master the unattainable
in expectant poetry;
churned out of sleep in disharmony
I stand still, hopeless
sleep a sleep, but dreamless
betwixt you and your sword
that swings in its own accord
that pierce into my soul,
and carve out a hole
Eccentric, you
Carried away by the river of your soul
Into a fathomless abyss of fantasy
And you swim with the demons in that void
And rule king and decree
If they live or die
you’re never clear, you’re never explainable
Your hair creeps down your knees, and you don’t care
With no sense of time, you sit in your chair
Engrossed in your void of abstruse sight
That chasm of immortal delight
Why? You, like a fearful knight
Are you some angel in the air of a sprite?
Your body dies, but you live in tranquility
Was what you ate in heaven, the fruit of eternity?
Intrusions in delusions
Allusions of illusions
infinite, widespread
uncorrupted, unsaid
The spark of life, mystifying,
Elegant, reflecting elegance
You,
You laughed about a jejune mind; me
You jeered about sterile soul; me
You laughed, and I cried
You lived and I dreaded
It’s my turn to laugh
Remember,
My face will reflect, back to you
Back to you
Just as yours did,
From those magazine covers
that reflected back like paintings on polished mirrors
Never! Never! Never!
Never would I let you to out master me
Understand
I too have a voice
A voice
You transform me into you
Through your words
The gravity of your pen holds all down
But I will still be me.
Can I?
12 o' clock, December 8 2009
I wrote this poem at midnight, without any lights on!
© Copyright Aiswarya T Anish, Kerala, India
Wow you are a poetic genius born to our planet..in so tender an age you create ageless beauty. Thanks Aishwarya.
Great effort, it is really beyond your age excellent internal expression yes midnight is the fight time to creat like these works with the light of mind, Thanks for sharing 10++
Congratulations young poet, for poet you are and gifted with insight of the human condition far beyond your twelve years. Once more, well done.
my years have smile as well as frowns...a 50 years difference makes me smile even more...you hit it dead to the core..need I say more...at 12 you seem to know the score...bravo young queen(lady) on the way to womanhood...you are a poetess good...my hat off to you...tip...tip..my hat...very outstanding...
Aiswarya T Anish,12 years old, who writes poetry at midnight with no lights on, I like your poem and that you added under what circumstances it was written. Well done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 5:03:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
my dear Aiswarya, i cannot believe that a 12 year can write this! if it it true you are really a gifted poetess. it is marvellous. you wanted to write about a non-poets feelings. but throughout you are writing what a poet feels. only at the last stanza you say that you want to be yourself and you will not budge to the power of the words of a poet. it is extarordinary poem. i wish you well. God bless you always little aiswarya. write.... i shall read your poems always. thank u