Begone ye pallid skies
Here in my palm a dawn
of tremulous gold lies
Into the void ye begone
Begone ye leeches of thought
Thy breeding broods lie waste
Long has this battle been fought
Flee now lest my blade you taste
For, life's river has flooded now
flowing with her thunderous roar
Beauty runs her oaken plough
Tilling my soul's dusty core
Here she has come again
Lovely Cora to my dying Hades
Beauty my Goddess truth plain
Dressed in life's painted shades
Here she smiles in vixen trance
Casting her spell of Asian bloom
There she plunges a scarlet lance
softly dying by the Gothic tomb
Heed her pipe soft and low
Tunes of a bronzed even Ra
Leading the soul to silent glow
Charming it there in mellow awe
How she veers, with toxin lined
Spring's poison mixed with wile
Into the goblet of a roue mind
Circe bearing her bubbling guile
How she bathes in tears borne
in the moonlit pool of a broken heart
Curing her soul in ancient mourn
love that death has done to part
There she shines in forlorn eyes
of Ophelia floating white on the brook
In Shalott Lady's half sick sighs
Cleaven dreams, that fate did crook
Here I suck her crimson lip
Burning in passion's yellow fever
There I die in her violet grip
Trembling in fancy's morbid horror
Baroque notes of the undead organ
In those she bares her pearly fangs
The wretched Count, the heir of Gorgon
The Phantom genius with burning pangs
How she shines in wisdom's realm
Thoughts bound in genius' cement
Evolved grammar in reason's helm
Sans a stain sans a dent
How she burns in virtue's dais
Rising in Bharata's flaming vow
How she soars above worldly ways
In the seers' flattened brow
Softly she treads with Japanese feet
Lilting and swaying to Chinese strains
Bamboo steps printed on snowy sheet
Dreamy mountains in yawning chains
Anew a thousand times she comes alive
Spring's seed, joy's sleeping storm
Breathing life doth in her bosom thrive
Flowing with blood of dreams warm
Breathe unto me a fresh life my muse
A thousand times and then once more
My thought, your will may they fuse
A thousand times and then once more
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
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2 comments:
Heed her pipe soft and low
Tunes of a bronzed even Ra
Leading the soul to silent glow
Charming it there in mellow awe
I just love those lines.. Lovely imagination.. You seem to live in a different world altogether...
Enjoyed it thoroughly. :)
Simply Brilliant, Sriram - as an effort, an attempt and an accomplishment.
To truly gain the utmost delight from this masterpiece, one has to definitely read it out aloud - the rhythm and rhyme are delightful, especially the rhyme (for me).
Your mind has ranged over the whole world's stories and images and has encapsulated all those experiences in this Sequined Dreams, the name being just perfect for the poem.
Great work. Keep it up and thanks too. :-)
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