We witness masterful art,
In a breathless moment.
The world stops,
Because even it…
Couldn’t have imagined,
Something as idyllic,
As a thought provoking Score
art
poetry
some fall in love
others love the idea of love
some thirst for water
others sip champagne in delight
poetry
i’ve fallen for you
you’re a scarf to smoothen out of place strands
you’re velvet to skin
cognac to the lost weeper
tea drank by the grassy bank
a sail to brave through strong winds and tides
pot of gold under the rainbow
a listener, comforter
nurse to the banes of my life
Attic of hopes
Fears, aspirations, desires
Hang in the attic, as shelled hope
Not to be seen
But now it’s hard to breathe
As the aura is strewn
With hanging hope
Hitting against one another
A walk in the attic
Is deemed to be bittersweet
For broken pieces of hope
Pierce the feet
Taut muscles constrict that visitor
With a hazy view of what could be
Of what is left, of hanging hope.
Give, Take
Give, take
Not in this selfish world
The lovers know
The writers know
The artists know
How they’ve bled
Give, take
The mad hatters share
See them at the table
Penning sonnets
Belting ballads
Painting grief
How well they articulate
Give, take
We channel, we pool
Stunning auras, invisible to this world
We read
We listen
We write
How well we’ve created smoke screens
My Muse
She haunted me,
In my dreams, she lingered
She’s the voice in my head
That mesmerized.
She took me places
And buried my sanity
She’s shown me madness
Had me tread the deep waters.
She coloured my heart
In shades of her emotions
And when I thought she was gone
Like a boomerang, she sprung back.
I saw the good in trying times,
She was right there, at my breaking points
Watching, hoping I learnt.
She infused me with her enduring spirit.
My muse,
She’s seen it all.
My muse,
She’s worn my soles off.
My muse,
She’s unstoppable
My heart, she stole on condition
To later return it.
Her company, for an unassailable heart.
Do you see why?
The walls, the coldness
She took me there.
So I could bring myself back
Back with closure, credence.
Do you remember now?
The betrayal and the heartache
You took me there,
With no intention of staying.
My muse, she brought back my light.
But first had me traverse the dark with might.
Virtuoso
I tell you,
He inspired her art
There’s something about pain
Though a wall shields her heart,
It birthed a virtuoso from her bane.
She performs,
It’s him she wants observing
Every note louder, gestures immaculate,
He left her hurting and uncertain
Unaware of a masterpiece he was to create.
Virtuoso,
Listen, how she belts out!
Her words, they inspire,
The rules, she will flout
She entrances, and he can’t help but admire.
Virtuoso,
Rain on her compliments
She impresses with little effort,
But in her, he planted deep sentiments
Raw, beautiful art is her reward.
bowendiaries 