similar, Not The Same Poem by Ananta Madhavan

In a world where everything is unique,
Unrepeatable, beyond copying by camera,
Beyond reprography by Xerox or forgery,
Beyond paint and brush or selfie portraiture,
Replication is impossible. It is an ambience,
Where arts and letters make their own worlds
As images through words and myths and fantasies.

Thus they recreate their versions of ‘the real',
Or what they suppose is the real-real,
Without the taint of stealth as copycats
Trespassing on Creation's moral copyright.

Like us from India, the Greeks had names and myths
To hint at the flattery of imitation.
Mimesis in their myth is the name for Imitation,
The fountainhead of art as we re-present nature.
The divine damsel, Mnemosyne,
Won the love of Zeus and became the mother
Of the Nine Muses. She inspires genius.
She is the goddess of Memory, remembrance.

Words in the poet's mouth may be hints
To perceive what others might also feel,
Responding to the tone and tenor of a song,
Or a rapid shifting of dawn colours
From scarlet strata to sky-blue and mist.
If all things change, Change itself may change.

Similar but not the same. It may be
‘The same difference' of current idiom,
But Identity is intact within the secret self.
Words can dance in ballet patterns
Or astonish in solo performance;
Their consonance can fascinate
By euphony, rhythmic beats and rhyme,
By leaps of trapeze flights, mimicry and mime,
But not authentic exactitude,
Only by uncanny similitude.


Poets and philosophers
Resort to analogues and parables,
Similes and symbols,
Signals and signs, latterly emoticons,
And ‘emoji' ideograms,
Metaphors and parallels,
Allegories and advents,
Alternative realities,
Fictions and histories;
They beset the would-be poet,
Searching the lexicon
For synonyms and antonyms,
Which need cognate identities,
Similar, but not the same.

- - - - - - - -

June,2017, Mysuru, India









If all things change, Change itself may change.

Similar but not the same. It may be
‘The same difference' of current idiom,
But Identity is intact within the secret self.
Words can dance in ballet patterns
Or astonish in solo performance;
Their consonance can fascinate
By euphony, rhythmic beats and rhyme,
By acrobatic flights, mimicry and mime,
But not authentic exactitude,
Only by uncanny similitude.

Poets and philosophers
Resort to analogues and parables,
Similes and symbols,
Signals and signs, latterly emoticons,
And ‘emoji' ideograms,
Metaphors and parallels,
Allegories and advents,
Fictions and histories -
They beset the would-be poet,
Searching the lexicon