It is something
that i should never tell you,
even my last breath
hangs from the blade of life.
I knew it
during our morning walks
on a road
carpetted with nebulas of bird shit.
In and out
a bamboo stem
we dip and float
with butterflystrokes
splitting time and making tones
never ending
our hide and seek.
that i should never tell you,
even my last breath
hangs from the blade of life.
I knew it
during our morning walks
on a road
carpetted with nebulas of bird shit.
In and out
a bamboo stem
we dip and float
with butterflystrokes
splitting time and making tones
never ending
our hide and seek.
9 comments:
Really nice piece. Your writings reflect that you observe and feel, and that you're a philosophical person...probably you live in a surreal world or you like surrealism..
Interesting way of expressing and writing.
Keep writing :)
Thanx a lot for commenting on my blog! :D
Good writing.Something like Zen.deeply philosophical.keep on writing.
"carpetted with nebulas of bird shit"
loved the line and the theme
you have a unique creativity in you which is very strongly evident in your writings!
i was carried away by this piece of your strange yet so effective creativity..
Congratulations..and happy writing!
:)
Beautiful...
On my blogroll...
hey i love each every post of urs.. they are brilliant.. and topped with ur crativity.. and frm a philosopher like u..
each and every line of this poem is brilliant.. there is a unique experience i felt whn i read this poem..
@i'm alive
You really named it.
Thanx.
Its this unnerving feeling of you seeing every little thing so well, that it seems unreal...
nebulae of bird droppings?? What a piece of imagery! Perfect!
@usha..
Thank you
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