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Actions analogue Poem

Poetry –Ecstasy And Mundane


mundaneEcstasy is an exhilaration
away from logical reason
far away from experiences common.

If ecstasy alone goes to make poetry
the poem would be an offing of incredibility
bordering on surrealism undoubtedly.

Poetry is emotion and feeling spontaneous
that had undergone a cycling rigorous
expressed with tune and tone delicious..

Happenings presented in a plain current
are prosaic and dull exposing a brunt
being a matter of fact without any adherent.

Incidents sung with little add ups
of colour and rhyme to top up
go to make up poetry in a gallop.

That which is mundane
could be made poetically sane
with rhythm in the refrain.

As poetry is the song of the heart
ecstasy and mundane set about
keying in an imaginative support.

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analogue Poem

Symptoms


symptomsThe symptoms of infection
tell us their status
where do they stand
what are they up to.
neglecting them would
direct to immeasurable problems
unmanageable and unrectifiable.
Like wise signs of deficit
come up in life as on and now
with many faults and defaults
managing them timely
would bear fruitful results
setting them aside
would bring hardships.
unheard and unbelievable.
It is time that takes
the priority and primary
spot in every venture.

Categories
Actions analogue Experience feelings Melody

Music be Thy food.


The music flowed in the air.
It caught me in a snare.
The melody was something rare.
reminiscing of the great musicians in the fair.

Listening to it keenly
I was able to get into it deeply
The nuances were so lovely
that made my heart melt fondly.

I took a stroll out into the avenue
The music flowed out from a venue
where a flautist was playing for revenue
With a heavy heart dropped a dime bidding him adieu.
flautist

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Actions analogue Architecture bricks Creation Environment Evolution Experience Interpretation learning Lost melancholy Poem stone subscriptions

A Stony Talk.


bones and nervesstones and bricksThe stones and bricks are not lifeless as they seem.
They know much more than we comprehend in a seam.
They have witnessed many a quarrel and in fight of the team.
They have enjoyed the happiness and pleasure in a gleam.

The thought brings to mind the functions of bones and nerves.
The bones give shape to the Man’s curves
The nerves sustain his laborious serves.
Both give him facilities more than he deserves.

The stones brave the wind and weather.
They withstand with a spirit dying never.
The bricks deliver a sustenance forever.
Both together propose a structural grandeur.

The loud laughter penetrates through the stones.
The tearful cries strike the bricks in a repeated hone.
Mirth knocks the doors not alone.
Sorrow crosses the porch in a subdued tone.

The stones chuckle sonorously when they are disturbed terribly.
The bricks rattle fiercely when the wind blows rudely
They cause a furore in the dim night endlessly.
They shudder mildly in the starless darkness dolefully.

Never shun the stones of a house as lifeless.
Never condemn bricks of a house as useless.
They have recorded messages countless.
They have staged dramatic episodes nevertheless

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Actions analogue Environment Experience fatigue feelings Poem Theory thoughts turmoil

Rain Looms


The rain was pouring intermittently.

It was without force inevitably.

It ranged with a lag deliberately.

The roads looked clumsy  totally.

People stayed back compulsorily.

The resultant was  discomfort  absolutely.

 

 

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Actions analogue Default Enlightenment Evolution Lesson Life Poem Story thoughts turmoil

Life And Ship


The ship was tossing over the ocean.

The wind was blowing in a fierce notion.

The waves were raging in a jostling motion.

There was panic and commotion.

It resembled life in action.

 

 

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Actions analogue Beauty Enlightenment Experience Inspiration Interpretation moon Nature Poem thoughts

Analogue Of The Moon.


It is a half crescent.

It looks nascent.

It tends to be stringent.

It has a status regent.

 

It grows with pleasure.

It wanes in  measure.

It succumbs to pressure.

In  a lethargic leisure.

Indeed it is a  covetous treasure.

 

Every fortnight it grows in size.

Every other fortnight it demurely lies.

Its expansion has a phenomenal rise.

Its contraction has defeated ties.

Irresistbly  it has a fascinating prize.

 

It shines in the night.

Emitting a cool light.

Expressing no flight.

Empowering a rational plight.

Indeed it delivers a lovely sight.

 

 

Does it not exhibit an analogue?

Does it not record a dialogue?

Does it not appear as a prologue?

Does it not sound like an epilogue? 

Curiously it is not  in thetreasure, leisure, ressure, pleasure, sight, catalogue.