Think of me as A-leash in Wonderland.
To see my dreams and make them real,
This power he possesses,
My life and love will fuse to one,
By a mere touch to the tresses.
For this power I shall not forget,
I shall not forgive, I shall not regret.
All I willed and allowed me to feel,
Was pity for your aim to steal,
Me from my mind's parachute,
Feel my sting, here and now,
For, my consciousness is absolute.
And any time I do otherwise suggest,
It is but a ruse, a test.
You shall forever try to belong,
But you shall remain sold for a song,
A song I sing, a song I pen,
A song I hold, a song I bin.
Forever I hold you in your trap,
The one that you once helped strap.
Together we began, together to transcend,
The evil depth of this bend,
Together we bleed, together we cry,
For the time to even repent has gone by.
Pathetic is what I called you once,
And then by a sad twist of chance,
I let you in, and caught you in time,
Without even the knowledge of your crime.
A cruel fate I subject you to thus,
A sinner's choice, but choose I must,
For, when the tide recedes,
And sensibility precedes,
Your vengeance shall be mine.
For no fault of your own estate,
You choose to seek and then to elate,
You presumed I like what I seem to like,
You presumed I heard what you seemed to mike,
Oh what a folly it was to presume thus,
For then and there, we drowned in that mist,
And we lit the fire that consumed us.
This power he possesses,
My life and love will fuse to one,
By a mere touch to the tresses.
For this power I shall not forget,
I shall not forgive, I shall not regret.
All I willed and allowed me to feel,
Was pity for your aim to steal,
Me from my mind's parachute,
Feel my sting, here and now,
For, my consciousness is absolute.
And any time I do otherwise suggest,
It is but a ruse, a test.
You shall forever try to belong,
But you shall remain sold for a song,
A song I sing, a song I pen,
A song I hold, a song I bin.
Forever I hold you in your trap,
The one that you once helped strap.
Together we began, together to transcend,
The evil depth of this bend,
Together we bleed, together we cry,
For the time to even repent has gone by.
Pathetic is what I called you once,
And then by a sad twist of chance,
I let you in, and caught you in time,
Without even the knowledge of your crime.
A cruel fate I subject you to thus,
A sinner's choice, but choose I must,
For, when the tide recedes,
And sensibility precedes,
Your vengeance shall be mine.
For no fault of your own estate,
You choose to seek and then to elate,
You presumed I like what I seem to like,
You presumed I heard what you seemed to mike,
Oh what a folly it was to presume thus,
For then and there, we drowned in that mist,
And we lit the fire that consumed us.
12 Responses to “Twist”
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Good ol' ATOM
looks like a nice poem.. try experimenting...
and why try to make rhyme when you are trying to reason...
and why not?
reason is why we look inside...
rhyme is like dressing up to save us from watching ourselves...
and well most postmodernists write free verse... and then it is easier...
and the best part is that it sounds less like a celebrations...
After all .. poetry is spontaneous overflow of emotions... and who we know is spontaneously rhythmic...
ah well, u forget intent is a keyword... maybe, just maybe, my intent was different?
Myriad words, twists and thoughts,
A fear unfelt, a walk of the mind without,
For flames consume, but could also forge,
Just like the smile that could so be a pout
Freedom beckons, the chain's the catch,
For twere the seamen themselves that cast anchor,
Like blind eyes that could set seas alight,
The ocean could be in life's laughter...
Oh and yes, intent is all. The words can mask, can veil and whisper a scream. It's the screaming ones that whisper though that some people get 'none' of ;-).
intent...
then that had be a really different thing...
I never thought poets and writers made good strategists...
But this one is a different case...
Intent in poetry... A thought out Poem... that had be an oxymoron...
I had be damned...
But why did you choose to defile poetry...
You are honest and so am I...
Is poetry the only way left...
@shoonya
defile poetry? to defile poetry means you already have a "definition" in your mind! And well, I for one believe that somethings deserve better than our earthly definitons... and have especially strong feelings against any kind of classification. It's stifling.
Well, to each his own... I choose not be bound by these mundane shackles.
Oh and just by the way, I write more stuff that dosen't rhyme than that which does. Yep, I haven't put it up here... but that's intent for you right there.
@mike
well as we say... "they" are irrelevant :)
Hi-
It's not critical analysis because I'm not a poet. Just my thoughts:
I love the idea that you seem to put forward. Words come together very smoothly in your poem and beautifully depict the message (my interpretation of it, at least). However, it just feels that you've tried very hard to rhyme, and that seems to take away from the naturalness (if there is such a word) of the effort.
On the whole, quite nice!
Thanks.
- Deepanjan
It seems stupid that I am replying and to what... a sensibility in you that makes you mature...
However the only assumption that poetry is what it is.. is that it has to be spontaneous... that is all I care for...
Whats the worth of an emotion that is enacted with thought... that is all...
Mebbe I refuse to grow up and you grew up.. Maybe you are right... but not natural...
Have a nice time...
You have beautiful eyes
Gourney
@Shoonya: Garnished food has extra appeal (provided the garnish does not exceed the food itself). Anyway as Riddhi talks about it, to each his/her own.
@Gourney: :p
@Riddhi: Reading something good leaves me elated for a while. Thanks for the pleasant feeling :D (Aside: There's something in the air there)
Just to add,you have beautiful eyes but even greater hair:P