*letters To The Unknown Poem by Reshma Ramesh

Why not say 'insignificant'.....considering the poets own description of 'ramble and scribbles' and 'pulling chalk lines, writing with nails....' all too insinificant to others but for her a splendid cantos of her emotions.....thats what i have meant to state....if u get it wrong...i cant help it.....u should consider the comments on your poem more, than interfering and backing others...if my comment is inapproriate let her say that.

To be clear i have'nt even read your poem...i have commented keeping in mind this page only.......i dont see her motive i only see the feeling here...as a reader!

Dear Sadiq I might have done a mistake by commenting (unknowingly, indirectly) at your source, of which u are so defensive.....then dont you think u should not have commented on my comment here and belittle me.......nice justice u have done! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

I do have my conscience, and i know i did not write anything with bad intention, but now dont try to impose ur views and make me accept that i am wrong......i could have very well deleted my comments here and disappeared like i never said anything...but i will not.You are welcome to loathe me, and call me indecent....Thank you! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

(If 'words' can repair the wounds caused by them inturn, if words have so much power to hurt and raise walls of hate....i regret having said them in any context) AN APPEAL The elegant beauty on petals got kissed By a man called lover of big and small The tiny blades of grass but twitched His mighty boots walking on them all Hundred or more cells get killed when ever This tender body does a vigorous butt They die an insignificant death of the lesser Sympathy but favours a fracture or a cut Love is not worn though given to many Dries the river, ditch but is never cast Fistful, heart hides in flesh creek tiny Where from springs a love stream vast To heave an arrow, enemy must stand Apart, opposite with a vengeful gist Let not doubts take the higher hand To see the fact; wait through the melting mist....! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

'But I never knew My poems would be one day Letters to the unknown' Aren't all poems truly, pray, 'a letter to the unknown'?

Knowing something is an illusion, so better be unknown........well written

its great to see poets converged in the comment window, the time when some comments are full poems

10+ to the poem and 1000+ to comments in below :)

**My Letters Unknown Whilst the flicker of candle Dawn had the designs in geometry Cold winds of the night on the edge Letters to the unknown To the known what it cast Much derided for the words Love has meaning to demons Unlike love when the self On the cross of retribution For the letters Pick the fallen stones Wounds are deeper than the blood On my body my letters Unknown to myself was the address Known not to me than how Known to you my love From the streets from the paths Untreaded often collect My letters unknown Taken by storms