You said, " Your heart is a guitar
that I once played with.
It made a good mingle
of low and high but not
that suitable to be one."
And still, these words linger
and play blues of guitar.
I was playing with this rope
tied to hooks from both ends.
Here, you said that it will fly
repeatedly but not too high
and if it tried to fly on own
then it will fall and die like the tortoise.
On the other, there was the rope
that gave me just a weal
and not will and tied it
to the wheel that barge
me far away to be tied
to the wheel hanging above me ~fan.
There was this rope
that peeped out from
so many warps and wefts
to be intertwined in you.
But it took me only away
from the origin, I belong to.
I'm above teen now.
I know how to play with
the guitar of broken rope,
how to fly after a fall
because I know how not to die
since I saw my brother
click a click in the darkness
and the blink of the light
made me see your reality.
And even the single mosquito
helped me to view your reality.
And the ploy you strategized
was revealed by you on his pinch.
And the child that I met today
made me conscious
about how the sky is not blue.
It has many colors and will have
like how he painted it on his canvas.
But not like you because
you are a chameleon's promise.
But now your perfidious phase
I am in practice to remember,
how twice a blink of light
made me look out of the darkness.
Because being past with something
is better for the future.
©Ashu.
P. S: Here, the tortoise is from the story of two swans carrying him to enjoy the sky travel.
YOU ARE READING
My poetry collection.
PoesíaWelcome, everybody! I'm new here. Thus, I'm trying to start writing from small to achieve big one day. So, here I begin with some poetic spices for you to enjoy its taste. This is a collection of poems on various topics. Choose to read one that yo...
