An insomniac in my blood,
rises to the fore,
and slips some heartfelt words,
in a rhythmic glitter,
and whispers them,
in the ear of the sleepless night.
She takes his creation,
in her palms,
and like the runaway delight,
of a sublime thought,
slips softly
in her own wilderness.
She wreathes the poem’s beauty,
in the glory of her stars,
and its writhing pain
in the heartthrob of her consciousness.
She forgets her planetary creations,
and wraps her immensity
in one cloak of her overwhelming silence.
and sucks me in, inside her infatuating womb,
and breathes the truth of her existence,
in the trembles of my being.
And completes my anatomy.
And why in the day..
somewhere in the closed book
of my poems..
I find a familiar scent..
lingering..
overshadowing….
from the tear-stained
verse of the forgotten last night….?
''She forgets her planetary creations, and wraps her immensity in one cloak of her overwhelming silence.'' A sense of the immensity.This poem makes me figure out that we are so small, as human being, but we have such huge feelings.10++
Most of the poets are insomnic I guess. Even I am. My poems DILETTANTISH HUNGER and MY DARK NIGHTS reflect the same. This poem is beautiful with real heartfel expressions so well described.
bravo! bravo! ............well done...............beautiful verses
I liked the concluding stanza....10++ for that...It's so familiar...walked with your verse thru a known lane...Brishti Mazumdar
a wonderful poem written by a wonder ful young poet remaining awake at night.10
emotions streaming down as in water falls, Sarvesh...your poem isn't sleepy...congrats...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sarvesh, tell me what can i say about such intense emotion expressed so compactly...you are a poetic genius, young man!