PadmaShree, Sri Jayanta Mahapatra once said,"There is something in me that refuses to die. It’s there, somewhere deep inside me perhaps. And this is poetry."
The genesis of POETICbug was thus an act of unleashing the curbed thoughts in the form of poems. POETICbug,says, "I praise; I dare; I invoke care; You write, recite my glory; I am, Poetry."
-Taking forward the spirit of poetry !
This is the moment,
I wish to tear myself
Let that knotted blob of emotions
Ooze out of me.
This is the moment,
I lacerate skin deep
To eradicate from within
Every ounce of that pain.
This is the moment,
I scream, shout loud
To vacate a space in my brain
For calmness to rent.
This is the moment,
I am awake, alert
Of myself,
And my being.
This is the moment,
When my failures inspire
No dreams should I desert
To latch on strong and believe.
What do I do ?
In a world full of you,
who disagrees to agree,
with every thought that is free.
Free like the ;
freedom to say what I say,
to care or not to care,
to own that space in the world,
where I can write my name in bold,
to break a frame of me,
to be and just let be,
to ride on the smoke of a bike,
then fly hinged to a kite,
to type, retype and erase,
that which I dislike in a phase,
or nothing at all yet in a zest,
I could eat the air over The Everest.
There's a mountain somewhere that waits for a path,
There's a river that urges to clean her dirt,
There's a land, parched long to crop,
There are hands stretched forward in hope,
There's a border always on fire,
There are riots within that never retire,
There's a town congested in her smoke,
There's a cyclone awaiting to choke,
There's a stampede of billion desires,
So many superstitions yet to expire,
But this day,
A reminiscent of her freedom stories,
Inordinately hopeful;
Mother India smiles, free from all worries.
[Just like we have a lot of worries in our lives, so does our nation, India. There is this one day, our birthday, when we forget all the worries and smile in joy. So does our nation, India.]
Luck
smiles on,
in a charm;
What more you want?
Instead have believe. Perseverance to strive,
Unabashedly sanguine,
Even on wretched ship, looks fine.
Just like this, an artisan's sculpture,
Sculpt a life yourself sans luck's charming smile.
The form of this poem is ETHEREE(Forward). It has an interesting play of syllables in each of the 10 lines giving the poem its structural appeal.
The Forward Etheree has increasing syllables with each line from 1 - 10.
The Reverse Etheree has decreasing syllables with each line from 10 - 1.
