From the palette of my mind, I feel like painting everything around
with my verses.
I yearn to capture the naiveté, the eccentricity, and the imperfections of this
worldly place.
But, before that I’ll camouflage myself.
I will hide my presence,
mix in my palette,
dissolve with my colours,
drink them and enjoy each flavour, they bring to my soul.
My poems are the paintings I create.
But for this one, I will myself become one.
Paint this worldly place with the most exquisite colours ever found.
I will colour the sun blue,
the blue found in the deepest layers of a spirited sea and the sky green.
The same green that rests beneath a blossoming red rose.
imagine a blue blooming sun clad in gay, green clouds.
the sky will become a garden, a garden we yearn to touch.
and the sun will become a flower.
A flower we yearn to pluck.
A flower that bloomed each day and wilted each night.
A flower that everyone longed to have but wouldn’t dare to touch.
A flower whose beauty, wouldn’t lead to its own end.
That will be my flower in the garden of my imagination,
in the lap of the world I create with my verses.
My worldly place, a place where even a flower would live its own destiny,
without the fear of being smothered for wearing a short skirt.
that would be my place, my worldly place!!
From the palette of my mind, I feel like painting everything around with my verses.
I yearn to capture the naiveté, the eccentricity, and the imperfections of this worldly place.
But, before that I’ll camouflage myself.
I will hide my presence,
mix in my palette,
dissolve with my colours,
drink them and enjoy each flavour, they bring to my soul.
My poems are the paintings I create.
But for this one, I will myself become one.
Paint this worldly place with the most exquisite colours ever found.
I will colour the sun blue,
the blue found in the deepest layers of a spirited sea and the sky green.
The same green that rests beneath a blossoming red rose.
imagine a blue blooming sun clad in gay, green clouds.
the sky will become a garden, a garden we yearn to touch.
and the sun will become a flower.
A flower we yearn to pluck.
A flower that bloomed each day and wilted each night.
A flower that everyone longed to have but wouldn’t dare to touch.
A flower whose beauty, wouldn’t lead to its own end.
That will be my flower in the garden of my imagination,
in the lap of the world I create with my verses.
My worldly place, a place where even a flower would live its own destiny,
without the fear of being smothered for wearing a short skirt.
that would be my place, my worldly place!!
Imagining the beauty that reside in this blue flower metaphor,
ReplyDeleteIs even more satisfying than imagining a broken cup pieces cumming together to form a cup again and come back to table.
Seeking a garden in the sky shows the love towards the earth but still being at the highest point you can be "in the sky".
i love the use of words in this poetry, they are making every line as imaginative and touchable as possible.
it makes me yearn for the next poetry of yours.
Thanks alot :)
ReplyDelete