Nishant (latelyontime) wrote in orangesex,

tear me to pieces - level of criticism: Harsh

Some time since I posted anything..largely because I was too busy to think much on my own and also because the commenting took such a large part of everything. Here is a poem that has been nagging me since quite some time now, I finally got it drafted into an acceptable form. Do let me know what you think. As usual, anything - even rudeness and monday morning bile is invited...And if you like it (or don't) do still drop in a word about it!
Thanks all...

Of feathers and poetry

She hushed her way
into the room;
as rain not yet fallen,
and asked for a poem.

'Sure thing miss-!'
I drawled,
Hands groping
The wax-polished surfaces
Of the leather bound books
That winked at me.

I gave her a feather,
'Take this, it's a poem!'
But she refused.
A feather's a…feather.
It's not a poem.

'But it is. It Is.
It has take off on flights of fancy,
Borne the burden of flapping metaphors,
Hovered over the images of a bird's eye view;
It is more a poem
Than I can ever produce."

She twitched her eyes
And in a voice indignant,
Like chocolate about to melt,
Asked for a poem.

A feather's not a poem
Anybody can give a feather
She said it was absurd.

And so I write you a poem
On how tough it has become
To think a feather, a verse.

You scurry off, satisfied,
With words on cracked paper,
Unravelling my lines
To reach the feather hidden in them.

X-posted to a few communities, so sorry if you seem to find it everywhere!
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