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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Not Poetry But Intimationsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Snow9
    Elite Ratio:    3 - 38/21/17
    Words: 203
    Class/Type: Random Thoughts/Passion
    Total Views: 905
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1201



    Description:
       An experimental piece to accommodate to my short-comings. I fancy it a proto-poem.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsNot Poetry But Intimationsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    View 1:
    Looking outside from the teacher-abandoned classroom, crows bathing on tree-tops in rain. Think: a body of meat and feather suspended midair as if it were nothing, gliding through nothing. Still amazes common sense despite logic.

    View 2:
    The watery pitch road reflects my umbrella-holding silhouette in the sky. And now the muddy footpath marbles whose edges are traced by the rolling water.

    What I present is not poetry, but montages of a mass of experience juggling, nurturing which can be sprung out fine strands of beauty. But that's an art that half-eludes my vision. It's just a pureness in rain that washes up reality, that I can't give words to.

    View 3:
    A rain soaked foggy window cleared by occasional trickles of drops, viewing which I write. Think: what poetry can come out of this? Shapes outside cannot be made out, but blurry patches of abstract colours- red, green and all- mingling into each other.
    Now water multiplies water as I catch glimpse of the lake through the water. Now the man besides window brushes the glass to look at the girl outside.... I feel an urge for vertigo.




    Submitted on 2012-10-12 06:14:18     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      there is such pureness in the rain, but then it hits the ground, washes up into floods that contain the impurities of the earth ---

    it is like stephen king said in "on writing"---

    the best part of writing is when we just get a piece down on paper, we have created something, and no one yet has seen it...once it is read, it can be torn apart, critiqued, whatever,

    but when it first pours from our mind, heart, pen....it is pure.

    jacob
    | Posted on 2012-10-12 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]


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    9. How could it be improved?
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    12. Does it feel original?



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