Monday, November 25, 2013

Poetry and prose, a differential,

Consecrated my self to poetry,
Long before I learnt prose,
Enflamed my soul with poems,
Long before prosaic things made upon me claims,

And whence at the end
Of a day,
Like a poem evening happens,
I keep away a bit from prose,
For poetry has a burst in me,
For words in metrical arrangements I see,

However, prose I know is poetry's twin sister,
She is not, less imaginative,
Prose I find also rhythmic,
Prose I find like a never ending sea
Of words, so figurative and bright,
Prose I just keep in my writes
Where they are not momentous,
Where they are really vast,
Like a Pacific perhaps,
Words where play with words,
Words where marry images,
Words where carry metaphoric tune,

Prose is poetry's twin sister,
Who does not know that on this earth?
But when evening comes to life, to celebrate
Poetry's hand I just take.

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