Micropoetry #18



Where I would be if you hadn’t been those celestial orbs for me, I often wonder. Your words like birds of migration take me far away where death loses its sting, becoming a classical dancer speaking in the ankle bell words. You are my Bhairav raga tuning me for the day, my afternoon soiree filling my lone soul with your music. If ever those sleepless eyes of mine like the wavy Cypress speak in a broken-nest tongue, you drag me to those whirling stars as was in the art piece.


the wind on a carnage

shreds the dark clouds

into pieces

pulling out misty autumn

intact from those clutches


Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #18 hosted by Thotpurge


Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United


24 thoughts on “Micropoetry #18

  1. When I was in Nepal this summer there was a HIndu festival. It was supposed to last for 7 days but went on for ten. Day and night they sang, and the prayers rang out echoing from the tent on speakers across the valley.

    Bhairav – the opening raga – def can tune you for the day. Center us, bring us back.
    I read this too as a person.

  2. Whatever can keep the sting of loss at bay–be it song or moons or eyes or friends–it is welcome to me. I am enough shredded to appreciate the balm of mist. Thank you for this poem!

  3. kaykuala

    pulling out misty autumn
    intact from those clutches

    Autumn is always a regret for not surviving longer. It has to reluctantly give way to drab winter!


  4. I know we are upsidedown in Australia but Autumn is half a year away for us and it lasts all winter which doesn’t get a look in so it is hard to worry about your northern winter approaching; however good luck with it!

  5. Your words are rich and beautiful and I love the words of the ankle bells of which you made me now aware.
    Oh that the winds could shred the seeming intent destruction of our world by humankind, and we see autumn intact.
    Anna :o]

  6. I love the thought of music bringing in the new day and the tune carrying one through the day. The imagery in this piece is amazing, Truly, One of my favorites of yours.

    speak in a broken-nest tongue, you drag me to those whirling stars as was in the art piece.

  7. Moving and beautiful poem..I did not know what a Bhairav raga was. …found a lovely flute one on you tube and wrote a poem for you. Thanks.
    There are so many things I miss about your culture. They become unconsciously assimilated and are added strands to the tapestry of a person.

Thank You :)

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