Caged as she was
She loved the golden gates
That barred her from painting the colours
In the canvas of the white sky.
She loved the anxiety of her captivity,
Her food that came through the bars,
The tender hands that caressed her,
The rough hands when they smothered her,
And the hands when they ignored her.
The need for the suspense
And the exhilaration of the unpredictable.
Trapped in her emotions
She killed the peace in her.
Never shedding a tear for it.
She wails for the bars that have finally broken down;
The absence of the hands that she knew so well;
The taming imprisonment that she so loved...
Never realising that she is free.
Free to reach the morning horizon
As it bends over in a glorious arc
Yearning to touch the golden dish.
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Weird as ever :P
ReplyDeletei thought u were improving! ha ha ha :D
frm the critics point of view- awesome poem, frm my point of view- I hate it! :)
Very nice. Wonderful, in fact.
ReplyDeleteFor everyman who wants to be free, there are ten who struggle to remain in captivity.
Well, Shreya, this poem reminded me of the story of the guy who was looking for a 'living' stone on a river bed. He got so used to picking up a stone, discovering it is not living, and throwing it into the river, that when he finally found the real one, even before realising he threw it off. Well, I understand, that in this poem you are trying to portray how we get "attached" to things, even if it gives us pains. By nature, we would rather suffer from a known pain, rather than enjoy an unknown pleasure. It is the "unknown" we are afraid of, not the "pain". After a while, we get unesponsive to the pain. But to get used to a new environment.......even if it is better than the existing one.......is something we all try to prevent.
ReplyDeleteI don't know whether I gave my "comments" on the "poem", or my "views" on the "issue". Probably I should ask you to comment on my comment. How was it?
Thank you and it was a pleasure to read your poems.
ReplyDeleteGood blogs are hard to come by.