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How I write, is mine…How you read, is yours

~ Most of us feel it, some don't. Some of us say it, some don't. Some may agree, some won't. Be as it may, the facts still remain.

Tag Archives: Unfulfilled

Chaser of reminiscences

05 Tuesday Jul 2011

Posted by Kavita in Poetry

≈ 66 Comments

Tags

Analogy, Arts, Bygones, Clutching at old dreams, Dream chaser, Living in the past, Metaphor, Mirage, New York City, Not letting go of the past, Oasis, Oasis versus Mirage, One Shot Wednesday, One Stop Poetry, Running after broken dreams, Unfulfilled, West Village

I saw this artwork on a sidewalk in West Village, NYC.. I loved it and simply HAD TO click it!

Wading in marshy shallow pools
of misery
Like a lotus with baby skin petals
of white
He tries to hold colored droplets
of memory
In the craving soft hollow
of his palm
While they slip into dark chambers
of fate
And he’s left by himself in deserts
of time…

In billowy gusts that erased his castles
of sand
He thought he’d seen the flushing greens
of an oasis
While they were only the fading blurs
of a mirage…


**Posted for the Onederful Shot Wednesday (Week 53) – it’s the ONE place for amazing poetry!! So link in, read along, and have some great time!! **

Shaded in Love…

12 Thursday Aug 2010

Posted by Kavita in Poetry

≈ 131 Comments

Tags

Artist and his work, Feelings of the girl in a painting, Painting, Paper desire, Relationship between art and artist, Sensuality unquenched, Sketch, Thursday Poets Rally Week 26, Unfulfilled, Unreal, Work of art

He tousled my long flowing hair
And then played with a strand
I sensed a start to this affair
‘Twas Heaven here, on land

I was reborn…

He ran his hand over my brow
To his warm touch, I froze
My eyes saw his desire grow
I simpered and went rose

I was shy…

His fingers traced along my lips
My mind went weak and light
I wanted to taste him in sips
And sing in wild delight

I was ecstatic…

He let some water droplets fall
Placed some on my shoulder
I stood beneath the waterfall
Behind a strong boulder

I was soaked…

He looked at me, his work of art
And wished I were alive
Felt no beat in my paper heart
On his easel, I would thrive

I was… I just was…

LOOK WHAT HAPPENED!!

Oldie goldies

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