Poetry Is Not Poet's Poem by Praveen Kumar in Celestial Glow

Sometimes…..

However I labour
Whatever nuances I harbour,
No sparks flash,
No thoughts clash
To inspire a poem,
To enwrap me in a dream.

I look around the world,
Try to structure a word,
But, alas, no bridges are built
From word to heart,
And I grope in void,
Stillness within pervade,
And I fall asleep,
Frustration all over creep.

Some other times…..

Wherever I be,
Whatever time be,
On bed or road,
In home or wood,
With friends or alone,
I feel the pain
Of thousand flashes
In violent gushes
Fighting to be heard
In engraved word,
Oft, I myself do not know what,
Certainly on I never sought.

On the crests of giant waves,
Riding as glows on sparks of eaves
Of ephrmeral lightning,
Illuminating,
Insights, new and fresh,
From within unleash
And words flow
Like mighty blow,
Brisk and fast like winter snow,
From where, none ever know,
Sprout new poems
Of vivid frames,
And I just write down
As my own
Deep insights,
Discover'd lights.

Always…..

Poetry is not
On reasons built,
But, deep insight
On its right
Flooding outside
In violent ride,
Oft breaking barriers
In verbal carriers;
Thoughts lie low,
Reasons shout, no;
Yet, floods roll nevertheless
That's poetry's bliss.

Poetry is not poet's,
Beyond his mind's limits;
Yet, poetry is poet's own,
Where inner churnings crown
From deeper subtle soul
As truths at its whole
To the poet's shock,
Beyond his common look;
The baby is his very much,
But beyond his empirical stretch;
It's he himself,
But transcends his ephemeral self;
Poetry is poet and plus,
His fusion with universal flux.