I Am Not A Poet Poem by Sanjukta Nag
I Am Not A Poet
I am not a poet…
Though my pen had given birth to some poems
On the yellow pages of a torn diary
Under the afternoon light
Or a peaceful night,
That later transformed itself into fiery.
While everybody was enjoying leisure
The mild breeze of your thoughts
Shook the boughs of my imagination with pleasure.
The mystery of those creations is not unknown to you
The clouds of my condensed emotion
And sometimes a bit of desolation
Had poured the poems of happiness and blue.
But I was not the only evil
Your love made me responsible
To fill those words with rhythm.
Today empty is my poem’s box,
You were my insight
Your love was my inscribe
Now my feelings are hard like rocks.
Though your presence is still floating
With my every blood cell,
But the full moon of your love has hidden itself
Behind the darkness’s veil,
Only by waning time after time
Making me forget what is called rhyme.
Now my yellow pages don’t dream of rainbow
If there is no today left for us
There cannot be any tomorrow.
So, if anyone now asks me to write a verse
I’ll rather take it as a curse,
And say to them straight
That I've never been a poet.
I am amazed at the magic that you have created with a fantastic selection of words to translate your exotic ideas into a poem of immense beauty. Next time, I will have to read this poem without its title. A quote: The mild breeze of your thoughts Shook the boughs of my imagination with pleasure. ......But the full moon of your love has hidden itself Behind the darkness’s veil
Today empty is my poem’s box, You were my insight Your love was my inscribe Now my feelings are hard like rocks. Though your presence is still floating With my every blood cell, But the full moon of your love has hidden itself Behind the darkness’s veil, Oh Pain! It.s not only me, you are everywhere! It's you made Sanjukta Nagg a heart ouching poetess!
The mystery of those creations is not unknown to you The clouds of my condensed emotion And sometimes a bit of desolation Had poured the poems of happiness and blue. oh at the end you become desolate like a forlorn lover. is there a love break in your life.? take it easy my dear poetess. you are so young. life has so much to give you. dont be depressed. thank you dear poetess
With love's waning inspiration dries up.True.Your's is a great write expressing true feelings.
It is difficult to replant the uprooted love and make it grow the flowers of love. Enjoyed the poem for its thoughts and imagery though its content may be depressing.
Well confessing poem....poets always confess what is in their heart.
the birth of a poet is the result of introspection mixed with some mere emotions and unending imagination. well written.
'Today empty is my poem’s box, You were my insight Your love was my inscribe Now my feelings are hard like rocks.' It is a situation that only a true poet can describe with such precision.. Thank you Sanjukta. You are a fine poet.
how a poet is born? the answer of this question is nicely displayed..... the mild......\ shook..........pleasure is quotable....keep presenting....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 8:50:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nicely written poem and you are a poet..........