Who Knows How Many Pages Are Yet To Run....? Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

While adding a new line
a minute and a page a day
to an anonymous autobiography
this life meets some poems
what spread across the last a few hundred pages
in the a little over half written draft.

They are strewn like natural gems
like some good pauses in shape of commas and semicolons
between two short and long prosaic phrases and speeches
all over the last couple of a bit poetic years.

Days, months and years enjoy the courtship with the fate
and cash in on all the cruelty unleashed by the unseen thing.
The elixir is strained out from the gifted pebbles and stones
not thrown at but dumped upon the poor scribbles on personal pages.

In between some lines with bold periods at their ends
some planets along with some constellation are seen to be smirking
at the afflicted birth sign and arrogant ascendent.
But a scorpion partnered with a crab will steal some stars!