The Sporadics: A Collection Of Poetries

THE S P O R A D I C S

There are pitter-patters in the raindrops
There are lub-dubs in a heartbeat
There are dum-da-dum-da-dums in a music.
They say, every single thing in this universe is connected by one phantasmal string which neither has a beginning nor an ending,
which is so fine that it cannot be seen or touched, yet have a primordial power stored in its reverberations;
Can only be sensed if one tries really hard,
one can feel its rhythm through the cryptic events it sprinkles on us.

But what's rhythm without rubato?
There is no rhyming with darkness, only uncoordination and mayhem
There is no tempo in how our thoughts stream through the mind
There is nothing systematic about how we dream, and then
lose it in the unfathomable depths of the unconscious upon waking.

Highest ranks till now:
#1 in 'poem' on 27/06/2021
#4 in 'prosepoetry' on 13/07/2021