A Lady So Fickle Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Most metaphors, lady-like fickle,
A twain of siblings delicate—
Look like tenors drawn by drained vehicle,
Similar and still disparate!

In seeming sameness lies contrast,
Some harmonies jar, stare in doubt,
Oxymoron show doubtful pout,
Obscure ironies no light cast.

When as proxies spar sign-symbol,
Not like ‘sleep a shadow of death',
Let the twain break their unseen wall,
Howso be thine poetic faith.

The whole may hint part, part the whole;
Yet, pray what sets metonymy
Apart from say synecdoche,
Neat-picking spares poems no soul.

A poet's no spring shocks to absorb,
Nor is a punster out to shock,
Planting props, paradox in orb,
Let pundits put him in a dock.

Poets per chance few metaphors choose,
But pick a befitting apt word,
A lot happens at the spur of Muse,
Some ponder, call it a rare bird.

Yea, a poem by nature's fickle,
Fains if forced metaphors can it tickle.
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Some critiques and academics analyse poems in the manner doctors diagnose patients— on faults and ailments, never focus on patient as a whole. ‘Life is but a walking shadow', (Macbeth) . Here, ‘life' is the tenor, and ‘walking shadow' the vehicle of the metaphor. But metaphors can be used without knowing their grammar and definitions. ‘Sleep as an adumbration of death', said Robert Frost, but one can use the signs and symbols without knowing them precisely. Symbolism comes natural to a good poet. The poetic devices like paradox, understatement, hyperbole, and irony can come to the poet's command without him knowing their technical names. There are people fond of ‘paraphrasing' a poem. Now, this is something beyond me. Why need one do so and put a piece of verse (and a thing of beauty)as prose, and kill it?
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Reflections | 04.08.08 |