Tuesday, July 6, 2010

I am, a poet.

I am a poet, and I can sense your pain. I am a poet and I can feel the colors on your face. I taste music, I live on the surroundings. Your experience is something that I can visualize. My heart beats like an eremite's- fast, thudding; as it is ever scared- scared of not being able to see. My vision is extraordinary with a slice of realism. I am able to touch- your heart, my soul and millions.
I can smell the spirit of life. Life that is around you and me, but somehow you turn a blind eye to it's beauty while I, observe it's pattern.
But this poet is human too. Too human. I cry and when I do, the tears don't stop. I laugh and when I do, the smile never disappears from my face. I am scared and I'm ashamed of it. When I'm angry, I'm not in control. I'm despicable. I hate it all.
But right now, when that slight breeze, disturbed the strands of hair that lay loose on my shoulders and cooled my back; I colored the paper blue- with my ink, my thoughts.
I am a wanderer, and I discover, I am a lover- all that makes me a poet. I touch it all- your heart, my soul and millions.
Written;2/06/2010.
:)

5 comments:

Charu said...

Hmmm...am a little confused, but liked and enjoyed it :) Keep writing!

The Bald Guy said...

Oh.

Thousif Raza said...

that was beautiful..... absolutely really... wonderfull... so pure remya... loved it....



take care and keep writing.........

nil said...

One of my favorites :)

Remya said...

@Charu: Well, I've got mixed responses bt that's okay,..

@Tbeej: ?

@Thousif & Bongz: :) Thank you :))