Retreat From Poetry Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Retreat From Poetry
He gave it up one day.
Closed his pen
Pushed away the keyboard
With a tired smile said
Enough is enough.
He almost wept in his lament
For the time clicked away
In a mad pursuit
Pouring out words upon words
But never getting anywhere near it,
The lost time spent inside his head
When he could instead
Go there out
Bathe in the moonlight
Get filled and drunk
Not wasting words on papers,
Nor let moon pass
Without casting her shadow in his eyes,
Be there watching sunrise
And not spinning words
Paint them in strange colors
Of his imagination,
Stare at the endless blue
Instead of shrinking it
To the smallness of his words!
He regretted the lost time,
When bottled in his rhyme
He got sunk in his words
Letting the earthly beauties
Pass away unseen!
From that day
He retreated from poetry
And was set free
From words in his head
That only mess
The real loveliness!
A nice poem. There is no retreat from poetry. Daily necessities of life may chase you out from the writing table or the laptop, but who can chase your thoughts out? Your thoughts keep you murmuring, whether you roll them out on a piece of paper or on a computer screen is a different matter. Yes, I agree with Lorraine Colon: There needs to be a balance - time for poetry, time for the rest of life's necessities. Then we'll be OK. Sometimes it is difficult to strike the balance and then messing up starts.
There comes a time when poetry becomes an obsession! But a poet cannot help observing Nature and things and occurrences happening around him! It is through such observation that he gets topics for his poems! But in our addiction to put our thoughts into verse, we are likely to forget many other concerns of greater importance! One shouldn't get bottled in his rhyme. A very enjoyable read!
Something to think about. Can we give up our poetry and be happy? I don't know. I find happiness in my poetry, and the poetry of others. I think I am addicted now - it's too late. But I still take time to notice natures beauty around me. That in itself is poetry. There needs to be a balance - time for poetry, time for the rest of life's necessities. Then we'll be OK. Very good poem you wrote here - don't retreat!
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 2:48:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
When I look out the window I see the world by day and night. It changes everything I choose to write about. Sunny days and stormy days we can all recognise, yet Summer or Winter, Spring or Autumn, we know, that this could be our last day. If we have ever received a blessing from a fellow poet or poetess, then it could be that we merely copy their style or merely let the words flow freely, without restraint. If, however, we strive towards perfection, maybe we will stick with the 8,6,8,6 syllables style. Whatever style we create for each poem, we aren't always going to write profound poetry or great epics for posterity. Sometimes we're simply playful, sharing something that adds a smile here and there. But if today is my last day, I still have poems I want to write and ideas bubbling away, with fantastic phrases and winsome words and scintillating sentences. I have seen the wonders of the Universe, but I have not seen my next poem... I'm still curious how it will turn out. God willing, I will find out and share it on the poemhunter website!