Sunday, January 12, 2014


Through the iron rods
I stand a witness
To framed glimpses
Of lonesomeness tagging unseen
With heartbeats
Cocooned in the company of forces
Conjuring to ensure
The continuance of the cycle
Leaving behind proofs of encounters
In the form of disparate happenstances
When rainbow appears a quagmire
Leaving indelible stains with time
I carry my own canvass and harbor empathy
Of finding others with similar shades
Wondering about those, not visible
Through the (2x3) feet wooden casing
When a momentary urge captures me
To replace the board where
I could begin in black and white
All over again

For Poetics ~ Out the window. A little out of the frame here speaking a bit about the many things going around me right now.


  1. A poetry of change... a great write... and I really liked the alliterations well used.

  2. is that time of year and we have to grant ourselves the blank canvas....

  3. I like the contrast of color versus black and white and wait to see what you will do with that blank canvas.

  4. every day is a good day to start on a fresh canvas... now get out your brushes...smiles

  5. I like the idea of carrying one's own canvas. That way one is always prepared for what comes!


Brickbats and bouquets, both are welcome!