Catharsis of a poem’s first kiss
It scarce starts as a well-formed line,
With fuzzy thoughts how so genuine,
All along you feel tense
As if under sentence,
A strange itch not of skin
In time gets somewhat mean
Whilst fuzzy thoughts get a new shine,
Words vie to form, play bin,
Show some rare discipline,
Though tad twisted, make a good twine.
Most poems born are much like this--
From chaos, mental catharsis,
And feel like life’s first kiss.
_________________________
Happenings | 26.07.2025 | poem, kiss
Copyright © Aniruddha Pathak | Year Posted 2025
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