These are all experiments, Balan. Trying to just give a key to open the door to journey into a moment I had journeyed into. I deleted a comment I had made describing what it was all about, because I found describing it destroying it for me. Sometimes you get it and some other times you miss it, the writer and the reader. That is what poetry is, I guess, but I don't know what poetry is. We grop along trying to find a method to communicate the uncommunicable.
I am reminded of mrityu pooja by Ayyappa Panicker.. Oh! ambling nymph, wintry night, cloudy darkness come, caressing the frolic soft murmurs the evening light has died.. invoking the final love of all yours is sublime too..
8 comments:
When I read you,
At tmes
I'm baffled
Some times
I'm electrifed too.
Just picking up the signals Vijayan. The antenna is working nowadays.
The best thing to do is to listen to the rhythm...
These are all experiments, Balan. Trying to just give a key to open the door to journey into a moment I had journeyed into. I deleted a comment I had made describing what it was all about, because I found describing it destroying it for me. Sometimes you get it and some other times you miss it, the writer and the reader. That is what poetry is, I guess, but I don't know what poetry is. We grop along trying to find a method to communicate the uncommunicable.
What you said is right; perhaps thats what poets try to do - to communicate the incommunicable - so would be painters, dancers...
yes, 'incommunicable' it should have been. word-check protection not in the comment column!
I am reminded of mrityu pooja by Ayyappa Panicker..
Oh! ambling nymph,
wintry night,
cloudy darkness come,
caressing the frolic soft murmurs
the evening light has died..
invoking the final love of all
yours is sublime too..
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