Poetry

November 4, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Prashant Godbole

 

By

Ittrika

 

 

Epitome of Silence

 

 

The tree verdant reaches the epitome of silence on the timeless island

To move the stature saturated, no windy rattle or storm possesses strength

Leaves and boughs shed like tears, gather around for funeral on the land…

 

A rabid bird after brushing feathers against all seasons, leaves metaphoric cove

In closed eyes easily comes the sketch of creation expanded to unknown shores

The curator renounces this world, that world and any other that exists above…

 

The climate of decadence starts sprouting above gravity as soul flies

Winged and wiggling angels begin excavation on remains of silent reality

Sins are eaten and for evaluation their stories are sent to paradise…

 

The decisive inning begins bidding for the heaven in trance like song

The immigrant set for epic migration; not for the soul search, not for solace

Leaving behind all belongings tender, ripened which were gathered lifelong…

 

On this side of the shore, heat begins to lose battle in the depths of winter

Knowing no place for desires: he embraces abode which he had not chosen

Even after burning in life’s fire, tortured ruins can’t escape scathing death’s pyre.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deciphered Yore

 

 

A piece of a ship sunken long ago reached the shore overcast

And the companion inseparable appeared without resistance in vision

The articles and the essays from the biological past,

began flipping on the library desk with compassion

A sail, seven to eight miles away from skyline was cast

among newly found directions of absolution…

 

A feeling of released grip on sorrows and quite close to salvation;

that acted upon soul like a timely frozen melody

Long craving conscious identity was ready for submission;

brought world of truth in close touch with time’s event refinery

Under closed eyelids a window opens with pellucid vivid imagery;

ponderous oceans swinging like leaves on far flung, fruit laden trees…

 

This unbelievable sense of lightness in famish waves

plunging him to the depths of sapience of dried leaf in silence

Ocean bed filled with scattered grains of detoxified desert profound

Clear of all obstacles, wreckage of sunken ship nowhere to be found

Meteors with blazing flames did create tumult but engraved themselves

Newly born image, explored the gravity in sound hush, he confessed! …

 

In open eyes abstract civilisation of known landmass died and

a converted puritan to a fresh faith raised to earthen level of buried leaves

In calmness of face, all the mishaps were washed and clothed in silk

The truth is, he didn’t need to know why he was attentive to that indifferent angel

The anthropologist had deciphered the yore and concluded unwieldy mission

in that greatly prosperous beginning of rare drizzle in autumn anthropical …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blank Verse

Ittrika

I began writing, purely, for my own pleasure … Crafting poetic lines truly gave me an immense pleasure of producing intellectual property … Though I was enjoying writing, I never shared my work on a professional platform … Recently, I felt the need to bring my work into the light and share with true poets, readers and experts in the literature world … I am taking this bold step of sharing my work with the big poetic world with hope and positivity; and I truly feel my words should reach the right and larger audiences.

I was born and brought up in Pune, India … I did my Bachelor of Arts from Pune University … now I live in Australia … Since my college days English Literature has fascinated me and I started learning figurative and poetic language of literature on my own; that inspired me to write poems.

I don’t believe that college degrees and certificates are the end of learning as Maxim Gorky’s work “My Universities” expresses his disappointment with books and he believed the world was his real university; so I am still a student and trying to improve my writing in the company of the world’s poets.

4 Comments

  1. P C K PREM November 09, at 10:36

    The decisive inning begins bidding for the heaven in trance like song The immigrant set for epic migration; not for the soul search, not for solace Leaving behind all belongings tender, ripened which were gathered lifelong… The lines made me think for long. Good poetry irritates when it asks you to think. Good

    Reply
    • Blank Verse November 10, at 11:39

      ~ Thanks a lot , P C K Prem , you took time to read and comment on my poems ...

      Reply
  2. r soos November 04, at 13:37

    "A feeling of released grip on sorrows and quite close to salvation; that acted upon soul like a timely frozen melody Long craving conscious identity was ready for submission" Very nice. I don't know if this is autobiographical or not, but I am certainly glad that you feel your work is now not only "ready for submission", but being published for us all to enjoy!

    Reply
    • Blank Verse November 06, at 11:37

      ~ Thanks a lot , r soos for your appreciative words ...

      Reply

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