I realised suddenly, how I have lost the lust for poetry. I hardly read any and write even lesser, these days. I wonder what the reason could be.
And then I think, it could be because I have no time, the universal excuse for all work that's undone. Also, the pace of life has differed -- it's faster than what it was in college days. I even had time to ponder while brushing my teeth lethargically. Now, I rush through it and schedule my next chore, while at it.
I reckon that most poetry I composed came, when there were intense emotions involved. I liked venting them out through this medium. Maybe I have found alternatives for that -- I talk to people, I listen to music, I read, distract myself with TV or food.
Another important aspect that elicited the urge to write poems within me was nature. And the fact that I haven't really been able to catch up with nature much these days is a valid reason for producing less poems.
And, now I realise I have settled in the world of prose so comfortably that any change will create unpleasant reactions. I am too cosy in my cushion of news and stories to get out and flex a few poetic muscles.
It's sad to have stifled a part of expression, which was close to me, which gave comfort. But maybe things have changed for the good, maybe not. Till I figure out the right equation, I will live in poetic exile.
Wednesday 6 August 2008
Poetic exile
Posted by
Mynie
at
22:10
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4 comments:
A lot of us write prose. But even the best writers with the best blogs I've read sometimes tell me they wish they could write poetry. And that's when I feel proud, and fortunate, to be possessing atleast a handful of poetic skills. And you possess those in abundance too. You are right. It is generally when one is bursting with emotions that they (the emotions) take the form of a poem. Your poem on Oink sufficiently proves that. You are also right about the same intensity of emotion surfacing when you feel close to nature; 'Sense' and 'Tso Beautiful' portray that closeness beautifully.
There have been times when I too hadn't written a poem for months, sometimes years together, wondering whether I had lost that spark, only to come up with a verse that proved my fear wrong. As far as I remember, you perhaps wrote your last poem just over a year back. And I do know times have been crazy for you since then. But rest assured, you haven't lost the bard in you. You WILL come up with a poem when the time, emotions and flow of words is just right. :) Till then, keep writing!
PS: I loved the title you gave this one: 'Poetic Exile'. Also, is 'elicit' your favorite Enlgish word of all time? You've used it a gazillion times in our conversations and in quite a few of your posts as well.
This is what you do when your suppose d to be working?? Sheesh.. What do they pay you for?
P.S : Please still love me.
and me too please. :P
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