If Not Mood, Muse Mars Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

To him caught in Cupid like passions
No signal cautions, none's warning red;
He who pursues passion, life's lessons,
Forgets sleep and comforts of the bed;
Like a glutton intent on eating,
By fine dine, taste nor yet time he's led,
Sheer passion seems what he's pursuing,
No fine sense to him seems so sacred.

Poets pregnant with a poem long piled,
Want nothing but deliver their child.

Those not keen to pen a thankless piece,
Not whatever their stupor can shed,
No motivation seems enough bliss,
And if not mood, the muse hampers head.
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Tongue-in-cheek | 06.12.14 |