Sunday, January 2, 2011

A Short Sigh

About the times that have gone by
I always write with a short sigh.
I bring out the color and kitsch
of the opportunities missed for zilch.
Entitled to all the cribs of the world
I gather excuses only to be hurled.
An innocent by-stander one might be
But all the havoc he would see
As a tall tree misses some winds
and falls outright desperate for wins.
Though the great fall has no meaning
there's always a philosophical leaning.
Why things happen is a passé
Why won't they happen is an impasse.
Now, I believe, one would understand
and feel the loss of my magic wand.
Nothing works, I know.
But can't sit idle in the show.
There is something collect I must
Like an ant I will roll in the dust
Till I find the boulders to build the hill
and write about my failures still.

3 comments:

Sravan said...

Cheers! To begin the new year in verse. I liked it and I once again think verse appeals to amateur readers like me more, but always has the danger of looking forced at times. You should revisit verse more frequently.

Trinath Gaduparthi said...

@ Sravan

Thank you! Yes, verse appeals more as poetry. It has that one outward quality(rhyming) of poetry.I will try to visit verse more often this year. The key is to rhyme but still have a critical eye on substance.

Sometimes, when I rhyme, I am not critical because the line appears so well that I leave it though it is Jaberwocky in that context. I have to be more careful with verse. So that some lines don't sound out of place.

Avi said...

Nice verse !!
If why things happen becomes a passé,researchers will be jobless!