Tuesday, 13 April 2010


another day,
i open the creaking doors of the attic
at the abandoned house,
and amidst the cobwebs,
old trunks, broken furniture and brass vessels,
find the masterpiece,
rolled up and neatly tied.

i unroll the canvass,
stretch its corners straight,
and the picture hits me like a blast and i reel,
struck by a resemblance
engraved in memory.

at the art gallery,
i linger long looking for faces
lighting up with recognition.
but the women come and go,
talking just of michelangelo...



vijay said...

"looking for faces
lighting up with recognition.
but the women come and go"
Be thankful for this anonymity
and enjoy the bliss!!!!!!!!!!!

Arun Meethale Chirakkal said...

"Women come and go talking of Michelangelo..."


P. Venugopal said...

there is the echo of prufrock in it, the thing i am trying to say is that they talk only of michelangelo, the dead. the poem is a very personal one. as vijay notes, it is about anonymity. it is a clean state where you are as light as a feather. you might have touched awareness about the possibilities of such a state, but there is also in you the sleeping urge for attention, adulation, success, fame, conquest. but when you are also aware of the condition of being weightless, you finally see the falseness of the urge for conquest, although you are swayed for a while.
a very complicated and vague topic for a poem, arun. i don't know whether i have succeeded in conveying.

Prabhakar said...

The creative moment is a sublime moment because it connects you with the world around you. It is a recurring moment and not always cause poetry or painting. All artists are products of their times. The moment of creativity is an anonymous one. One writes or paints not to become famous but because they have some insight to share which might make our journeys less lonesome. Nice poem.

rknair said...

Nice to read your blogs again... and the new pic of yours has more clarity and less intrigue :)

Rhett said...

this is a very good and a deeply personal poem. i doubt if many would have understood it. those last lines, which are a reference to Eliot's poem, set a great contrast in the backdrop of which your lingeriing "for long looking for faces" comes starkly alive...
you write with heart...keep writing...!

P. Venugopal said...

Thanks, Prabhakar, RK, Rhett...