Where thy ! lies the girdle of my poems

Dedicated to all the poets and to be poets 🙂
Where thy! Lies the girdle of my poems
Asks the purr of the literature
Through the wizards and legends holding laurels
Or through some bizarre barbaric
Masked with the attribute of civilized notions
I don’t grudge,I don’t mind,I don’t care
I won’t atone .i won’t decline,I won’t stop
for a drop in the ocean maketh the ocean
I will have my own flow
For I don’t need any wow
For my poems were born eternal
With peers resonating in every realms
With mimics like a miniature-artist
I was carving,crafting my own caravan
Surrendering to the timeless time
For it was running past the breath out of me
As words , As poems,As my pearls
To unfold some stories
For I played,surrendered and loved in all thy! Arms
For I became euphoric
For I travelled the unknown horizon
Even least discovered or known
For my poems are the soup of my soul
I will drink ,I will write
For my soul has unquenched “thirst”
In every drop I will have an ocean
escaping to bubble and blast as the android
in my own alien heart and galaxy
to free of the quest
of any damn protocol
of the frame
for I peep through the frame of my heart
where takes the birth of my poems
not to be challenged,deserted or questioned
as it awol of any
Blank verse
Free verse
Petrarchan sonnet
Shakespearean sonnet
Terza rima
Or any other defined frame/types of poetry
I beg forgiveness to you all magnanimous
For I live with my words
They talk to me
In the silent whispher of my mind
My words do walk with me
In the stimuli that the brain secreates as a neuro-transmitter
My words carry me
In the depth of emotions ,sentiments and feelings
And if you don’t believe me
Turn the pale pages of psychology
That calls emotions to be the survival instinct
Yes I called emotions
Not love ! not love
For emotions alone can carry the estranged emotions
The walking emotions,real emotions
Live emotions,the dead emotions
My words may seek the slumber of silence
For silence is also an unuttered word in the grave of heart
Where my soul dwells
With smirk,simper and splash
It sparkles as a shining star in the form of poems
With wonder and ponder
I gazed all your dazzling words
Brainstorming concepts and now all is making me drunk
I beg forgiveness
For no one ever taught me even the ABC
As a guru…I holded my own torch
To enlighten the core
To bloom the petals
To sparkle the diamond
To be my own sacred teacher
I just kept marching and marching
And Now when the nomadic wanderer
Is resting on the lap of those green prairies
Lost in the wonderland of fairy tales
Drinking red wines with a red rose in coat
With a notepad in hand holding a pen
sometimes punching the ground as a boxer
Sometimes looking up at the azure sky as a philosopher
As though if begging for few more dangling words
To decipher his last classic
Proposing and promising to his poems as a valentine
Of some schism exchanged between the poet and his poem
They both kissed each other in words
Poem was taking the birth taking the poet’s heart
And the world was astonished,surprised to see them
Or rather accuse and label him insane
Please don’t call him insane or deranged
For the entire bits of universe
Will go wild,derailed to expand
Or will go concentrated to shrink
To merge in origin
To witness the girdle
But thy! Poet is on it’s ultimate
Aspiring and atoned
Blissful and brave
Resonating and romancing
Drinking and dancing
Enigmatic and euphoric
Zonked and zoetic
In the glimpse of his beloved “poetic”
To aspire and inspire poems
He is adding the aura of fragrance
Sprinkling the splashes of colours
With the simper of flower
He is piling his next poem as the next breath
That for sure will heed and heal
Atleast of his own emotions
As a catharsis
For my flow is from my breath,my heart,my flesh
To channelize the flow to drank the moon
For there is the fire in the ocean inside me
To swam in the azure sky
For witnessing the surreal union of my beloved
For I can’t be Skeptical of the azure furtive
Still I sketch to render with infinite shades of colours
To see if the enigmatical tupples
Of rhyme,rhythm,stanza,verse imagery or meter
Keeps it to hold the pride of “poem”
For I don’t know the metaphor,simile
The personification,the repetition,the allusion
The alliteration or the tone
Neither the onamotoepia nor the symbol
Still I scribble
To sketch the poem
For I don’t know why???
For thy! alone knows
of my girdle will merge into the charisma of divine depth
I ask thy! Guide me of my girdle
Where thy ! lies the girdle of my poems ???

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