Best Image Poems

Below are the all-time best Image poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of image poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Image Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Image poems are below this new poems list.

MESSAGE IN AN IMAGE by Strand, Brian
Image and Reality Intertwine by White, Darren
WE ARE MADE IN THE IMAGE AND LIKENESS OF GOD by Dindi, Jeff
- My Wish Image - by Smile, Sunshine
I Wasn't Made In Your Image by Williams, Sonnier
Mirror Image by Brown, Alquiasha
In His Image - The Acrostic Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
IMAGE - VIOLENCE by austin, daver
In His Image - The Acrostic Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
The dream , not the image by grant , James

View all new Image Poems

The Best Image Poems

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A beautiful mirror

-Escape of the mountain-

Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset. 
The beauty of every summer dress 
Laying down, wearing out gravity 
Embracing the same feeling; Your
hands indulged in. Passion and devotion, 
around perfumed scenery... 
     The perfect pair

Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock 
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle, 
around the virtues of my palace.

-Will you still be there, 
  when the hump and lump are gone?
-Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see, 
 in hopes to gain the time, breast cancer stole 
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.

---note---
A Focus on Breast Cancer 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

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Artillery Rain

~Perfect Rain~

I can see!
All the tribulations around
A rage against the burning wind
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice
Everybody avoids feeling the smoke hidden within
A rain so deep it burns all the enamel off my skin
A rain that cut my soul in half
Two-piece that will not entwine or merge down a dragon path
I feel this eternity has no ending blaze
Trigger happy rain, extinguishing a bonfire around my rose.

I will sleep under the artillery stars tonight
With the perfection of my fiery crystal lava teardrops
Washing the ashes of my face,
Suppressing the overwhelming fear
Knowing no one will ever, "BLAME IT ON THE RAIN!" 
As long as the torch keeps loading another artillery round.

~*~
PD
4/12/12
Trashed  #3, sponsor, Broken Wings
Date Trashed November 2nd, 2015


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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To Bloom in Red Flame

Underneath all the layers
Of tradition
Of religion 
Of philosophy
Of reason and understanding
I smolder
In passion's pleasure bed of red
Paroxysms of pleasure
Emanate from my core
Searing the shroud
Flames of fantasy's feast burn
Yearning I yearn and lie in wait
In my ambuscade 
with the relish to ravish ravaging 
every fiber 

Conceived in the throes of passion
My conception is my perception of life
Woven into my being
I’m prisoner to pleasure monomania
Obsession of desire hysteria
My cacoethes:  gratification gratified
Thus, I scintillate sparks
Riding on my satin flares
They captivate your stare

You see me
Feeling the heat of sultry flame
You want to play scorch torch game
So your reach out to touch
Mere kindling in my blazing wake
You quake as I slake your florid fantasy awake
Convulsing in temptation’s torment
You combust to lust
Consummating till consumed
Eliciting my passion flower bloom
In opulent oriental room
You swoon
Exertion exhausted
Gratification’s glory gained
Having tasted my reign
Revived your leave
Yet…
My image I’ve seared
On your flesh and mind
Branded, you’ll find
Your way back to me
Slave to my passion's decree
You’ll come to me

And I retreat
Enshrouded once more
In virgin layers
Of tradition
Of religion
Of philosophy
of reason and understanding
Biding my time
when sensuality sublime
calls me
to bloom in her red flame

Eileen


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015

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Pleasures of Reading

It pleasures me
That she reads me
Inside her serenity
Parked on our bench of antiquities

I, whom gazes over there at her,
Later in the dusk of candlelight
Shall remove her pink dress
Tiss then
I shall see she derives her pleasures
As I read her


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

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A Truthful Mirror

I reflect the truth, yet you see a lie
I'm just a humble mirror, I wonder why
I love the shape, of your beautiful face
Why when you look, do you feel such disgrace?

The curve of your breasts, a delightful sight
You see them as misshapen and not quite right
The clothes you try on, somehow trick your mind
When you think you are fat, I think you're quite blind

If I were magic, I'd help you to see
All that is true, when you look into me
Upon reflection, you'd be satisfied
You'd marvel and feel, a measure of pride

For no other women, can compare to you
So uniquely splendid, please see what is true
The sum of your parts, breathtaking and whole
A subtle confidence, bubbling up from your soul

My true pleasure, is witnessing your smile
For you are a woman, with beauty and style
No need to be afraid, when you look into me
Look beyond your fears and see what I see.






Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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The Plus Size Sexy Siren

You are a plus size model: sexy, hot
Emaciated woman, you are not!
You have the curves; you have the booty too
Those skinny girls don’t hold a shine to you

You know you’re fat and yet you have that flair
You’re beautiful; you make them stop and stare
You claim your rolls are good enough to eat
Your man, he sees you as a tasty treat

You’ve got tattooed Miss Piggy on your arm
I think that it’s delightful-  quite the charm
You flaunt yourself In Big Girl style with verve
Make men just want to touch your every curve

Oh Tess, I do confess, you make me feel
That Big Girls too can have that sex appeal

Eileen Manassian Ghali











Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015

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The Poet Warrior

My Dear Enemy
Here I am
In full armor
My quill is full of arrows
My bow is taunt and ready fro battle
My horse is pristine and shiny black
I am your enemy
As you are mine to the death
I shall take my bow and arrow
Pierce you through the heart
My king shall praise and honor me
For many battles so well fought
I know I have to shoot my arrows
To save my own pitiful soul

My dear enemy
I just long for you to know
Every arrow, every drop of blood
Every soul that must depart
Due to my fine skills and sharp arrow darts
I die along with you
I know not who you are
Yet a weep for your lost soul
I imagine other times
Maybe we would sit for tea and cookies
Laughing over words of glee
You and I so battle ready
I am sorry for all the battle scars
The blood that flows so deep
Every arrow that leaves my bow
I am sure it too, also weeps

My Dear Enemy
I prey today that before the dusk
One of you will have a finer bow
My heart no longer has the will
To fill my quill with arrows so
Today, I let one of you end my day
No longer can I live on this way
All my fine arrows fired
Have finally been on target
My Dear Enemy
I love you as any man
I have only love for humanity
I pray one day
Our Kings and Queens shall feel this way
As off the battle field, I am carried away


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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Spiritual Moment

“Mystic Moment with you”

A natural look of who I am on the inside.
A reality check of who you are on the outside.

A mirror facing west makes the difference in you and me.
Open your eyes and see.

The child I was today is the reflection of you tomorrow.
The ideas of different skies drifted off without sorrow.

I am the good the bad, and the ugly…
A song permitting retrospection to delay the same face with yesterday’s glee.

From moon to admirable moon;
The dignity of holding the same tune.

I am the swan that swims through your veins.
You are what swim’s through my moods and rain.

The miracle of our heritage echoed so far away. 
Auspices now imitate metaphors that were under the surface bay.

An unknown look strays outside the window.
Behind the gates, that leads into tomorrow’s limbo.’

A mirage of turning around and seeing nobody but you and me.
Mystic moments that attract other moments of originality.

A dream that speaks about the image of my new beginning.
My courage polishes off the mirror image of a falling stars ending 
You are the beating pulse that resides on the inside and outside of my being. 

“You are the REFLECTION of my spiritual place”






Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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Out of the Sun

              Stayed 
             in the sun 
              to long
               today
 The skin became the bark of a tree
 the soul turning to brittle scars
 for uncaring worlds to see.
             my face
            is a pile of 
           old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones 
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored  smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
               Stayed 
              in the sun
               to long
                today
the mind has smoothed over 
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
               laughingly.

Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday 
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place 
where watercolors swirled all day, 
the heart worms kept at bay.

I'll stay hidden within the weeds, 
till the jewels of memories soothe 
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
       ...stayed in the sun 
              to long
                today






Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013

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The Simple Pen

            The Simple Pen

I am but a simple man with pen in hand
To cut open a slice of universe with verse
And with the ink
Let it bleed not red
It flows instead with mortal colors
Over a life well spent
What is left over
We drink this in a cup
Pour more to fill it up
But little at a time
Too much reality can cloud your mind
Said the simple man with bleeding pen

Entered in Tyshawn Knight's - "Advice for New Writers: Words of Wisdom in Verse" Poetry Contest on 6/02/15 
  

 


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

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FLAVORS OF HER ESSENCE


A woman's soul, is it as porous as the air that breaks the water and earth apart from each other? In the slither of liquid contours, this maiden's essence blows into tiny glints of filling days’ silent pages without having to fill in the blanks. But such fire in her navel; swelling, leaping forth unto a black dahlia of night dripping with all the kerosene stars like a tigress on a hidden, sensuous prowl... This is her shape. Then coming from metal gut, she fumes of musky-flavored energy, steaming the brain for a war of poker in a den filled with invincible men as she raises the bets for a royal flush of aces... This is her bullish time. Yet, curling into late evening she enters into the pillows of her soul rinsed from the bouquet and incense of a dulcet day, her bosom of long breaths warming the lamp gentle, temperate, and mild in peace, coasting along the ledge of her swan sleep... This is her soul's time, shape and peace. For Laura Loo's Second Place Challenge Resubmitted 6/27/2016 ----------- Place 2nd in the Contest:The Scent Of Your Soul Judged 10/18/2014


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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NOVEMBER DREAMS




A marquee of stars dims, to beckon early winter’s stage;
Reflecting crunched flowers in ghastly hues, detached from their limp boughs.
The nightfall drapes hush of serenity , as flakes soothe trees’ nest.



 Andrea Dietrich's  October Bliss or November Dreams
10/09/2014



Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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Time Soldiers On

Irregardless of effort 
or desire,
we can't stop time.

Weeks fall into months,
seasons stream past 
like runaway trains,
stamping birthdays on calendars,
etching wrinkles on skin,
planting age spots everywhere.

The galloping gobbler
moves ever onward,
with sharpened blade, 
to slice away memories, 
and bestow;

weaker eyesight,
diminishing strength,
brain skips,
plus popping  joints.

Alas, twilight stops soon for thee,
Twilight stops, now, for me.


cfa ? 9/2/2012
Revised 4/20/2014




Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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Optimistic Orange

It is the fragrant peel of Florida's fruit that comes in convenient slices.
The savory citrus that packs a punch - to my tongue it simply entices.
It is the sprightly stripe of a clown fish that says, "Look at me," unabashedly (no joke)
To read between the lines it has taught me, and in its splendor I am soaked.
It is the warmth inside a fire though his sister crimson gets all the credit.
It could be the light of your world if your vivacious heart would only let it
envelop you with its curious tone: the love of a rose - the brightness of the sun.
And though we might only think of traffic cones,
and hazard signs - for me - it is the lightness of a pun:
Orange you gonna ask me a question?
About how its wavering pathways on tropical seas
can bring the heaviest heart to ascension?
Or how its marriage of sweet strawberry and sour lemon
has brought to mind our engaging entanglement?
It isn't like the blue that's over our heads,
nor is it like the green that's beneath our feet.
Rather it is the hidden spark inside our hearts:
it isn't showy - but its beauty is discrete. Something to soothe
any gloomy day with gentle subtlety. To tell you the truth
orange is nothing dramatic
(perhaps that's why I like it)



Written March 4th, 2016
For the United Orange Contest hosted by Silent One


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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Ugly


Underneath the exterior Gardenias bloom unannounced Lamenting that no one lifts the veil Yearning to be seen...


Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013

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GIFT OF SPRINGTIME



Praise this moment with charms it brings
Through mid of June, on robins' wings

Sunflowers blush as petals creep
Along easels of meadow's keep.

Winter's arctic days now long gone,
That morn's fair promise trails upon

Breezes sweet , once an icy blast,
Engrave a kiss on spring at last.

Earth aflame in a varnished show
Awash with paint where all things flow.

Cardinal swoons with trilled refrains
Upon leaves' edges  like beaded grains,

For springtime is a godly rite 
When heaven molds  its prized delight!

           
 .................
Couplet Time for Rick Parise
8/23/2016


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

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Tonight I Dream of You

Soft creeps the splendid dream tides of the night
The burning embers of heavens breath descends upon my dreams
Dreams of you, my love tonight
Sparkling wishes, amulet stars, a kiss goodnight.

Heart withstanding aches I dare retrace,
I am accompanied by a newfound face, an explorer’s vision
Tears of joy sprout from their jeweled wings,
Flying toward the smiling moon,
I welcome dreams…tonight, I welcome you
Where whispers trail the sleeping waters.... my love goodnight
Unending sails, hearts submerged in love's delight
Tonight I dream of you
On the rosy fields of memoirs sweet

Soft, tender breezes remind me of your crescent touch..
I curl into the swaying waters, cradled by our memory
Where once you smiled in afterthought, and I in golden reverie
Would beauty among these gentle scenes kindly draw you in?
So maybe we can share the graces of light that lives within
Soft moonlit roses, dripping in night-shined dew,
Yes, even as they close, tonight I dream of you.

Take my hand, don’t let me leave this land
For it thrives on our love’s horizon, 
Draw your words upon my life, and let night take its stand
But before I sleep, my love tonight. Oh let me seal it with a kiss. 
That in beauty's dream my light would float in your love's eternity.
A thousand saddest days may come, and a thousand darkest dreams
But I'll chase them all for you my love, just to have you in my dreams.

These eyes closed tightly with the rosebuds ,
Shall open before clouds, dark and awry
And in the ground, my love for you shall yet still bloom,
Fed by the healing rain, and your steady love refrain
When tonight I dream of you

-A special collaboration with poet Mustapha Mohammad-


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

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The Rusted Gate

Rusted, but well oiled and continuously in use, heaven’s gate. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 				
Contest: One, One Liner
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Placed 2nd
© 9th November 2016   


Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2016

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"Walls Between Passion"

written by Michael & The Mysterious Lady of Soup


                                                 Michael
                            The walls are tall but I know your there.
                          I hear your voice and the thoughs we share.
                                 So close but can't touch your hand,
                 all I could do is spill out my words and let my pencil land.
                                              Lady of Soup
                         I can feel your heartbeat beyond these walls,
                                one tear drop and my pencil falls.
                           The image of you vibrates my desired needs,
                            every thought about you inside me exceeds.
                                                 Michael
                                   I press my palm on the door,
                      just to feel your hand makes me want you more.
                          My chest is beating to your song of desire.
                      To be inside your body and feel your waves of fire.
                                              Lady of Soup
                        I take a deep breath to feel your essence here.
                           In my mind, the image of becomes so clear.
                             I can not calm a single thought about you.
                  I place my hands on my chest in hopes you get through.
                                                 Michael
                        Soon this door will open , and all shall be revealed.
                     So many things to be said, will start with kisses sealed.
                           To see you standing in your beauty and appeal
                              I have to have you as our passion will steal
                                             Lady of  Soup
                      The time has come for us to be in each others arms
                  before you opened the door, you had me with your charms.
               Lets throw these notes away, and feel the desire for each other.
               Lets keep this a secret between us, my dear poet and sexy lover..


Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2010

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Eclectic Wonders in Seasonal Flowers --- A Collab

Words in italic by Angeline Lim
Words in regular font by Timothy Hicks



Hydrangea blues
blooming in seven colors
versatile at heart
 
Storm clouds in a tantrum and yet
the rainbow
 
Gently wipes away a facade
reveals a layer
hidden within
 
Pretty just like yesterday
red-hot pokers
 
Playing fireworks 
on lovers' palates 
scintillating senses
 
The shared spaghetti noodle
growing shorter
 
Sunlight fading
into a sweet dream
aromatic  Osmanthus
 
'tween the slits of enclosed fingers
flashes of a firefly
 
Smolders of passion
unfolding within
Chrysanthemum  mysteries
 
Instead of the bee
her tender touch
 
Frozen fixture
all the yellow once in the field
now in the moon
 
Aesthetic display
of a crystallized Rose quartz
 
The snowy hills
at this time a strange warmth
morning blush
 
Purplish Crocuses
pop their cheerful heads up kisses blown
 
Thinking himself
to be King Arthur
startled butterflies
 
Surprised Tulips
opening lips with an exclamation
 
August heat!
there goes the evidence
of the snail
 
Spiraling down a Corkscrew vine
into a time portal



P.S. Haven't been on lately ... hope all is well with everyone :)


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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My Left Breast

strange it was there just the other day 
hanging about as usual, 
reminding me in my mirrored image 
of my definite femininity 
now gone, am I less of a woman? 
will you look at me differently, 
or strangely as I do myself? 

I never really gave it much thought before 
of how things come in pairs 
how lonely one would be without the other 
how misshaped one appears, 
no longer jutting forward, 
proclaiming sensuality 
thrusting into the limelight, 

now scars and a flattened ego, 
fill my robe, bras useless without stuffing 
men, look at me in horror, 
women in shock and pity 
and with gratitude, yes that it is not them 
my left breast is missing 
no not missing, taken, stolen...

it was just a lump a few weeks ago 
a tiny pea shaped knob, 
that hid its cancerous intentions
so very well, yet lay in silence waiting 
to steal away that part of me
that defined who I was 
what purpose I served in society 

am I still a woman, a sexual being? 
I'm not sure, my right breast thinks so 
but yearns for its mate, 
the image in the mirror just doesn't seem right 
unequal in its proportions, glaringly lopsided
my left breast is gone, surgically removed  
I can still hear its scream


Copyright © Bernadette Langer | Year Posted 2006

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POETRY PRELUDE





knitted by stars

   words hang on fired lanterns

       as rhymes serenade

trailing down nightfall deep…

        ink freezes midway



5/08/2016
Short Poem Poetry ___ for Andrea Dietrich
modern tanka in 26 syls


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

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BUT SERIOUSLY-The Unprecedented President

BUT SERIOUSLY
“The Unprecedented President”

Mirror mirror on the wall
Who’s the greatest President of them all?
“I am the voice beyond-beyond...
A truthful answer I must respond.”
Yes, it is the truth I quizzically quest
I ask again, who is the beauteous best?
“You are”, the mirror said with fingers crossed
The mirror knowingly well a lie was tentatively tossed.

In the mirrors, we see rewarding reflections
Layered lie's of life’s derailed defections
Illicit illusions with abundant attractions
Pompous portrayals of diplomatic distractions.




Jan.22.2017
BUT SERIOUSLY - Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless 



Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2017

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Diamonds of Inspiration

Those eyes of yours
Holding a bunch of blue sky 
Have been inspiring me lifelong
To seek rhyme and song
In turbulence  
A Buddha like balance

Then you, the sceptic 
Always asking 
'What is your view?'
Almost like Socrates
Never readily conforming to 
Any set thesis
Would open a sky
Asking why this
Why not that
To discover a new door to stand at
Thus you wanted to groom us:
'Cogito ergo sum'
I think, therefore I am
Relaxing my diaphragm
And now in the twilight I look at
My too many windows to look out
For a new sprout
I thank you there
Among the twinkling stars

And you young girl
How soft suave but yet straight 
Is your speech
While we screech at a little conflict
Raising ugly forms
Ignoring norms of civilization
You are always low but firm
Polite but powerful
I try to be like you
In my communications
In interrelations
A grandfather trying to emulate a granddaughter 
Life is a great assorter

And there you 
The oranges in the tree
The beauty spree
The life and lyre free
Have inspired me
To stay happy
Even in despondency

Then you
The beggar in the street
A lesson for survival
Never say yes to defeat
You have to first sleep and eat
Then towards other vitals 

You the whore
Drifting from shore to shore
Embracing sort of death
For the sake of life
Tiny shines of strife


Where ever you look at life
With a childlike interrogation
With a touch of admiration
Will come across
In a session 
Diamonds of inspiration
___________________________________________________
3/1/2017 : Contest: Who has inspired you most in your life
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri-Carroll



Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2017

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A LOVELY LITTLE DAY DREAM

The cinnamon scented days
in your grandiose porcelain cups,
as you would like to say,
in grass green warmth of May
of the sandal wood shadow
in your valley
made of three warm words from starry dark,
alongside the  moon-circles

It is lovely
A rose dance
In a tipsy trance
A blue Greece peace
descending downward
Shivering moon ice
And Amazon warmth
From mouth to mouth

“Go slow go slow “
Calls the lark
from moon-snow
“Go slow”
 
Why the distraction?
In the lovely job of translation
from fire to ice
Slice by slice
Dropping all disguise
Into a stupendously charming reality
Of collapsing charm

Then, all on a sudden
Why the reaction
Of sudden interruption?
 
The lark asks
“Look above
Visit the cascade first
The temples, the galloping horses
The beautiful bird-neck
And the awesome hills”
 
The cream coloured shaft of sky
beteen the two tension to the hilt
Maddeningly failing
Into freedom of the flood

Tumultuous silence ...
 
And he felt the  soft palm on his forehead
He came to
It was the nurse
By his hospital bed
‘Yes ?'
‘Sir, you have to ....'
'The chemotherapy?'
'Yes Sir'

A gentle smile on her face
A sandal wood shade
Of a different kind though
And ice slabs
In almost absolute temperature
_________________________________________________________
20/01/2017
 
 
 

 
 


Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2017