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Sailing, Sailing and Sailing On….

 

I don't know what to write and what not to. There is surrealism all around me. I am feeling good as well as bad. I am feeling happy as well as sad. I don't know with whom I am talking to. I don't know for whom I am feeling. I am just wondering like a nomad soul. Hated, loved, and cursed. Sometimes the perplexity motivates me because there are sweet souls around.

It gives me divine joy. I am sailing, sailing and sailing on. I am coming towards the shore but I am going deeper, I am not running rather I am intruding more. The air around me is charming yet indifferent. Sometimes I wake up, sometimes I sleep. Hazy ideas, simple English and a foolish babbler singing his cacophonous song from some distant corner of the world. I don’t know what I am scribbling. I don’t know how poetic it is… I don’t know how good I am or how bad I may be. I don’t know who loves me and who doesn’t. I am just dreaming, dreaming and dreaming. Poetry is lust and lust is poetry. It’s a lyrical addiction. I want to go deep, I want to go deeper.


There is silence, there is love, there is hope, and there is a soul. Love tales, fashionable dresses and some solid pain. Oh! There are so much here still there is so less there. Writing is ecstasy. The joy scribbling can be so satiating. Writing without a purpose sometimes makes me happy. There are something missing here and there but you can easily gather the broken pieces together. The prose is ready but the poetry isn’t fine. Childish words and foolish thoughts, why everything isn’t crystal clear. I am not writing anything for you tonight, I am not writing anything for me too. I am just sailing, sailing and sailing on. My thoughts are my wings and my words are my warheads. I am no more alone, I am no more sad. The night is getting darker; the wind is freezing, dogs barking, cats meowing and a foolish man whispering. He is thinking, falling and sailing….


6 comments:

  1. awwww.... maaannnn... this is absurd... u write prose...and abstract thoughts...but somewhere i find them poetic...
    to me it looks more like the poetry lost its formatting wen u copy from word to here....
    i dunno what to say... heavy words.. or shud i say simple words conveying deep and heavy meaning...
    bravo.. good one... i enjoyed readin this..cos in more than many ways i could relate to it

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  2. A lot of introspection here! But don't be too tough on yourself!

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  3. Thanks everybody for appreciating my insane thoughts. I am feeling sane now :)

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  4. Anonymous12:49 AM

    Languages and Poetry ...

    Few people enjoy writing in a foreign language. I believe it helps keep a distance and thus a sense of propriety with one's feelings and thoughts. Besides, it also might be easier to expose them to others through that 'linguistic' filter.
    Don't you think a personality slightly differs with the language spoken? Won't some topics be easier to convey through a second language while others will be better dealt with in your mother tongue ?
    I believe poetry needs a lot of courage to be let read ... no wonder it needs many filters to protect its word soldier's heart.
    Whatever the language, whether it is verse or prose ... poetry is urgent and needs to come out naturally from the one who is overwhelmed with it.

    ( French reader)

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  5. You are so true. Your thoughts are so clear. Who are you my french reader? Keep reading and sharing your sweet thoughts on literature, language and poetry. I can't stop reading them as they are conveyed directly from your heart.

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