On a sultry afternoon
words tumbled out
coaxed by an English lesson
The first few and perhaps, the last
about 'Grandmother' – her tales and
goodies
satiating the small pleasures of a ten year old
swaying to abba, abab…
Often lost
in the meandering maze
the pen would find ‘me’
fluttering in folded creases
flipping through camouflaged pages and
priorities
However, now we choose
to meet sans spectacled views
invoking fragrances
on a chalkboard
scripting words of our silence
in myriad hues of unsung lyrics
knitting azure dreams of today
for tomorrow’s sepia frames
connecting dots
to reflect, revel, reveal
begin to begin
all over again…
smiles...cool...i dont really remember writing poetry in school...i remember reading it....i wonder if writing it as you were learning english was helpful....did it make it stick?
ReplyDeleteI am not sure either Brian! my poetry then was nothing but rhymes. today they are a catharsis! i guess the process is such...i wonder too how it would have been if i had given a bit more in syncing poetry with the language.
DeleteI like that bit of the pen finding you ~ The challenge in writing for me is to begin to begin again ~ Good to see you Akila ~
ReplyDeleteI like the idea too of the pen finding you I felt that way oftentimes as well. It was the pen that often gave me the comfort and the means of expression that I did not find in other places.A strong ending to your poem...I like 'reflect, revel, reveal.' That is the 'stuff' of poetry, for sure!
ReplyDeleteRich details of memories and lively colors - very nice write there Akila. So that's how the pen found you.
ReplyDeleteFor some it is the pen, for others being an athlete or comedian...but yes, the idea is to purge, recreate, redo, invent, re -write, ask, express and always be true to ourselves ;)
ReplyDeleteTo me it sounds like poetry became part of you naturally.. like words falling directly onto paper... love that.
ReplyDeleteI was taught about poetry, never how to write poems sadly. I like your poem particularly the last stanza and the idea of beginning 'all over again'.
ReplyDeletefragrances on a chalkboard - what a wonderful image ~
ReplyDeleteAwesome write! I particularly love the last stanza!
ReplyDeleteI love this - you are still speaking with your own voice, saying things with freshness, bringing us a new viewpoint.
ReplyDeletethe pen certainly found me... I had no intentions of being a poet growing up... crazy how life is sometimes... smiles.
ReplyDeleteI like the pen finding you :) cool !
ReplyDeleteLove how this evolved, Akila. The line about fragrances on a chalkboard really struck me.
ReplyDeleteGrandmothers are generally the best way to begin things. Very lovely poem and lovely journey. Thanks, Akila. K. (Manicddaily)
ReplyDeleteknitting azure dreams of today
ReplyDeletefor tomorrow’s sepia frames... nice... it def. brings color into our lives...smiles
What a lovely way to tell your beginning and like how your pen would find you. I do remember reading some poetry in school but not really instructed to write any...now I'm wondering why not.
ReplyDeleteWoww such a beautiful such. The imagery is stunning.
ReplyDeleteknitting azure dreams of today
for tomorrow’s sepia frames// these lines stole my heart.