I listen to the stillness
I witness purity at dawn
I listen to gentle rain
I watch the awnless lawn.
With my eyes closed
I try to feel
Sudden rush of chillness,
Stillness in weather’s appeal.
My bare feet lead me
To the last bench I see,
No one is in park
Just stillness in bevy.
Only rain on them sound
Barky trees don’t sway,
Stillness have cursed them
Just still they stay.
It reminds me of a picture
Once I hung on my wall,
Black demons were all around
White man stood still in thrall.
What I see, Is it photo-frame’s ordeal?
Or is it me inside it, alive and surreal?
Demons have stolen all the colors
Caged me in arms of stillness.
I will push through
The stillness stilled,
Demons turn weak
Once the Sun is unveiled.
I run; fast and quick
Stillness freezes me at halfway
But I still can see and feel,
Stillness in the next picture on my wall.
I have just one word to say, You are awesome anshul. :)
ReplyDeleteI simply loved it.
hmm really awesum...
ReplyDeleteB & W photography usually has the opposite reaction from me. Especially trees that are shorn of leaves. I find the images to be very earthy, very calming. But, I enjoyed your imagery poem as on second thought don't horror movies love the same imagery?
ReplyDeleteThanks Margaret, I really feel glad that you responded to my poem from Poetry Jam. Your's perspective to B?W photographs is also good, while I have presented my own here in this poem. :)
ReplyDelete