A Poor Stuff... Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

A Poor Stuff...



Days without poetry have not been that bad.
Poetry of limbs with a certain skill covered the gap;
filled up many mobile pages.
Thinking and performing an act is never less good a poem.
Talking of something and doing the same thing is better than a poem.
For your words can deceive others more easily than your acts.
And when you talk, you climb up your fancied mountain
but when you work the same thing, you climb down a real mountain.
Is it not easier to draw a picture of an abstract land
than exploring a real land of vast stretch?
The spell on me of 'word poetry' is getting loose
as the spell of 'work poetry' is gripping me tightly.
A poet cannot remember how many poems the poet has written let alone what lines in what poems the poet has written.
But you hardly forget your acts; good or bad and their results.

And, if I did not write this stuff, what would happen?
Any loss to anyone? No.
No loss even to me.
Never a loss to Poetry.

But the death of my work may cause loss to many.

Monday, October 26, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: philosophical
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success