the temperate weather
chimes the turbulent dirge of
autumn, before launching the winter in -
I love, and always did, its grand
ineffable music,
foreboding and sniveling,
with its uncanny disposition of
release and ruin
as the day shortens to wintry span
the edge of inflamed sun blushes horizon
you and I, outdone by concluding rays,
hasten homeward
over this street and around it
is a placid twilight
the vivid moon, deep cerulean
ample meadow of constellations
soon make it a night for holiness -
there are no moaning winds,
not a friction in this knot
the lips utter no sound
my transparent cornea wafting in shadow
taps softly on your shoulder
you strain a tear which drops of itself
from the iris and skims its way
to spray the ground beneath your feet
nature, with her mercy and malice,
her pinnacle and corruption,
simulates that cosmos -
the human heart,
in which abodes, a paradox
centuries and seasons
discipline it to a quiet stature,
the incidental instincts
augmenting helplessness subdue desires,
sinful spirits in the hour of parting realize
that love and love alone is
the keynote of destruction
thus you and I, prematurely
before taking parts in this game,
when the stakes become abysmal and critical
silence that yielding smile,
forefend that inebriated look
at the bottom of which lurks
a fatal sweetness --
it has been a long night
the intermittent autumn tears
haven’t cooled my smoldering heart,
they have only set it steaming.
chimes the turbulent dirge of
autumn, before launching the winter in -
I love, and always did, its grand
ineffable music,
foreboding and sniveling,
with its uncanny disposition of
release and ruin
as the day shortens to wintry span
the edge of inflamed sun blushes horizon
you and I, outdone by concluding rays,
hasten homeward
over this street and around it
is a placid twilight
the vivid moon, deep cerulean
ample meadow of constellations
soon make it a night for holiness -
there are no moaning winds,
not a friction in this knot
the lips utter no sound
my transparent cornea wafting in shadow
taps softly on your shoulder
you strain a tear which drops of itself
from the iris and skims its way
to spray the ground beneath your feet
nature, with her mercy and malice,
her pinnacle and corruption,
simulates that cosmos -
the human heart,
in which abodes, a paradox
centuries and seasons
discipline it to a quiet stature,
the incidental instincts
augmenting helplessness subdue desires,
sinful spirits in the hour of parting realize
that love and love alone is
the keynote of destruction
thus you and I, prematurely
before taking parts in this game,
when the stakes become abysmal and critical
silence that yielding smile,
forefend that inebriated look
at the bottom of which lurks
a fatal sweetness --
it has been a long night
the intermittent autumn tears
haven’t cooled my smoldering heart,
they have only set it steaming.
--
pPS - we are trying to converse in poetry.. one for one..
now his turn to take it forward ..
Labels: autumn, creative, poetry, shenanigans
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Familiar strangers and bedfellows indeed! I must say that your introspective exercises are very deep!
V Rakesh said...
October 30, 2010 10:44 PM
Thank you Rakesh, great to have one regular reader! :D
aria said...
October 31, 2010 5:31 AM
meaningful... in fact i think if i read it a few more times, i will get more meanings...
The Sage said...
October 31, 2010 4:40 PM
Sage.. thank you for reading..
aria said...
October 31, 2010 9:40 PM
"sinful spirits in the hour of parting realize
that love and love alone is
the keynote of destruction"
A misnomer! [ even when you have the liberty for writing your views.]
Lovely poem....
Kunjubi said...
November 1, 2010 6:09 AM
Thank you Kunjubi.. you also have the very same liberty of expressing your views :)
aria said...
November 1, 2010 7:53 AM
Aria--this is... haunting. In a good way. Like just one guitar.
... and it's got that intricate simplicity and resonance--ah, it's good.
... will see if I can match pace--a challenge and a fine one.
Perry Strange said...
November 2, 2010 8:48 PM