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...who is a POET??...he is...but a dethroned king sitting among the ashes of his palace trying to fashion an image out of the ashes...
..he is the poorest of the poor..yet he carries an oasis in his heart cultivated by the caravan of his thinking...he is a pauper..but he still pretends to be a ' prince ' in the kingdom of his vivid imagination..
..he only sings when he is starving for he cannot sing if his mouth be filled with food...
..he only raises his hand to beg for he cannot raise his hands if it be filled with gold...
..his wealth is his winged imagination and fictive power to think...and ' thinking ' always acts for him as the stumbling stone to ' poetry '... :) ;)
..he is a tree watered by the river of beautiful thoughts..and carries in his heart a lamp unconquered by darkness..
..yes..he seeks NIRVANA..not by counting coins of gold..but in leading his sheep to greener pasture..in seeking a smile from humanity...in putting his child to sleep..and in writing the last line of his poem... :)

...he will be unheard until humans honor the dead and forget the living..for then only upon his ' death '... ' he ' will rule their hearts...and his kingdom will have no ending... :) :) ;)
..TO HAVE GREAT POETS..THERE MUST BE GREAT AUDIENCES TOO... :)

Thursday 5 July 2012

.. the mountains and me.. :) ;)



like a great poet
the mountain knows 
how to produce the greatest effects 
with the most limited means
                  
              

so here i am amidst the mountains..
just the mountains and me..
for its grandeur like a potent wine...
flows through every rock,every pebble ..
and through every grain of sand..
the mountains gaze at me like a king..
as if to narrate me an ancient epic..
the epic of the faded kings of this virgin land..
that stands buried between ancient days and now..
the clouds drift lazily between earth and heaven..
searching for perch at the top of the mountains..
the eagle pierces the sky in the distance..
breaking the circle of the earth and the skies..
preying its eyes on a lamb among the flock..
the shepherd keeps its flock veiled..
by the threat of its loaded sling..
the river is now happy with summer..
for it roars and growls..kissing the foothill..
meandering away from the chaos of this world..
lashing on ferociously on the weak wooden bridge..
the powerful cool winds  keep howling..
the towering trees gyrating..
as if welcoming the winds..
the leaves keep rustling and whistling..
conveying me..the secret message of the mountains..
the birds are chirping..
welcoming..this onslaught of summer..
still its so quiet here..
no one to speak to..
just the mountains and me..
for between us..we have forgotten the world..
and i no longer feel like a human..
but a hermit  living alone in this abode..
dazzled by nature's ethereal scheme..
and the fury of its beauty that slaughters.. :) ;)

: this poem I wrote during my stay in Ladakh last summers.. :)