Sunday, 12 October 2008

Bridge across verses

The quill touched the parchment
With a thirst un-quenched
Scribbling words incoherent,
To form a beaded string
Of life's worth, of -

An occasional dip into the deepest of inks
And a quick jiggle that forced away
Blotches of that excess ink,
The one drop-
Which could have made a difference.

Curt tracings of the ink,
Racing along, faster than the thoughts
That bloom, and wilt.
The parchment damp, weighed down,
It lay heavy-
With not a dollop of a word more.

The veinlets once deepened,
In the brightest of hues
It receded into the depth,
Once again.
And as the parchment seemed all done
I found the split verses,
With no deft nexus-
Puissant .

And, I rummaged through my duffel bag
Of loquacious thoughts,
For that link-
The bridge across verses.

I never found it, though.
And so, I still do write-
Maybe someday,
I'd bridge my verses together.

Maybe, someday...


  1. There is no someday, as far as you are concerned, dear one :)

    for you, the words shall always wait, on you, not the other way around.

    Hmmm... no muse you said. And you write so awesome. So if the muse too had been there..


    Loved this. Some fantastic imagery here!!!

  2. @ usha mema
    u juz hv good words to compaints thou :D hope to see em coming! thanks :P

    @ jay
    thankz a lot :)

  3. Poignant! Your words sheen Gold.





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