Skip to main content
The world of poetry

Poetry is an art through which poets speak their voice. Writing a poem.doesnt merely make you a poet. The magic it contains when you write it shoould be experienced by the reader, even if it is slightly different. Poetry is that song that takes poets to a different world. It doesnt matter for them if everyone dont understand its beauty. They wait for atleast one soul who is able to connect to it or get mesmerised by its gift.
This is why I love to write poem. Because poetry is a treasure filled with beauty.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

This is a world where everthing is possible. This is something very few people understand.  Yes many have heard this statement but still rarely do they realise the immense value this sentence holds. If you feel itvhasnt worked for you then it is because you gave up at that moment when the universe was ready to give you your dream.
3 comments
Read more

Change of some sort.

The world is changing, isn't it? So, everyday when I scroll through instagram, facebook or any exquisitely woven write up, it gives me a sense of relief. And this is no lie. Maybe we skipped noticing the honours received by a social activist for legalising tribal rights or ignored reading the thank you messages from change.org for signing and successfully helping Rita or Michelle achieve the milestone.  Maybe we overlooked the way the facebook timeline feed has put on an entirely different clothing, advertising more on women rights, humane deeds and humongous achievements . Or how new instagram posts started showing how much love we have for another person or for a cat or a dog. Hey, even how our priorities cycle between potatoes, avocadoes and sleep. The new interest in portraying how much important beach and adventures have become. Or even the sudden realisation that most of our favourite stars are not even on these social networking sites or that their accounts are managed b...
Post a Comment
Read more
Why dont we? It looked wonderful. The garden i was sitting in. The dusty lane around the beautifully constructed garden was all that made me realise that  i still love the place we are living in. I look around,  people of many age groups strolling in the lane. Some waited for their loved ones and others content being alone, absorbing and assimilating the nature's porn look. Even the animals were there. And they were happy, after a very long time they had finally found a place where they could live without the fear of being tortured, or Atleast for a little more time till perhaps something might change. Then i turned to my right. It was not like no one was troubling the trees, I grinned as i saw small hands shooting up to pluck that one red coloured berry from the nearest branch of the gaint proud angiosperm . I chuckled now at my sole companion there, the  tree that bore that red coloured berry and she seemed very happy for this was what she always wanted, to be lo...
Post a Comment
Read more