Ends are beginnings 1
Butterfly is born
when a caterpillar
comes out of its comfort zone
dares to take
the path less travelled
unknown, uncertain
It’s her love for life…
she dares to
kill herself for passion
goes through the turmoil
the toil, sweat and
anxiety of becoming
the journey long and lonesome
has died a thousand death
to be, to live
never gave up
went all the way to become
your love, hatred or indifference
doesn’t affect her a bit
she loves herself enough
don’t envy the butterfly
salute her indomitable spirit
butterfly is born
when a caterpillar
comes out of its comfort zone
Ends are beginnings 2
Outgrowing
your thoughts
your way of living
outgrowing people
once dear to you
rejecting your past no way
your journey it is
travel back ever
not possible
cling to the known
live in your comfort zone forever
not a choice
one and only reference point
is your connect
with the universe
the only eternal truth
to move on towards
your better version
you realise
that you have
outgrown yourself
it is the end
a beginning as well
you are reborn
not knowing the next step
not sure of the next breath
is the miracle called life
you move with
your trust and love for life
outgrowing yourself
is your faith in life.
AN ODE TO VAN GOGH
Van Gogh’s yellow dazzles
my dream
and suddenly I wake up to
a bright day
sunflowers singing
straight from his paintings
fill my heart with unknown joy
his starry nights
fill my darkness
I walk with dancing lights
I wake up from my dream
lying still in the midnight
burst into tears
of intense passion
for his lust for life
Van Gogh’s yellow dazzles
my dream…
ARTISTS THINK
Artists think
they choose the colour
it is not the truth
colour chooses the artist
one cannot choose
to be an artist
cannot desire or
want to be an artist
you become an artist
because art chose you
consumed by the passion
you go all the way
till you become one with art
there is no other way to become.
MY BED
My bed…
the creative zone
of this day dreamer
lazy poet
who lived in her own world
of books and more books
and few dreams
not a morning person
loved sleeping more than
anything else
fragile, fussy about food
shy introvert
never wished to annoy a soul
a bundle of all that
my father didn’t approve
he failed to
discipline me
he thought I was the rebel
without a cause
understand he didn’t
the becoming of a lazy poet
I didn’t choose to be a poet
poetry chose me
it came to me
I didn’t try to be a poet
poetry came to me as a twin soul.
A BLANK PAPER OR CANVAS
A blank paper or canvas
is so enticing
they are my muse
their endearing charm
is mesmeric
I can’t escape
I throw my whole persona
on them
oblivious of the outcome
I pour my heart and soul
soiled in ink or colours
we become inseparable
I die a thousand death
they convert me
into an energy field
we are born in unison then.
POETRY FOR ME
Poetry for me Is not
the conscience keeper
It is my journal of
inner dialogue
which happens
between me and life
between me and you
what remains unsaid
you never had the time
nor the much needed space
it is a narrative of
sustained pain
of not being loved
or understood
failures and triumphs
narrative of an intimate journey
private yet intensely passionate
from known to uncertain
from logic to beyond logic
from darkness to light
poetry for me is not
the conscience keeper.
IF YOU CANNOT BE A POET
If you cannot be a poet,
be a poem
you decided to be the poem
and I the poet.
all your telepathic thoughts
touched my soul
and became poems
on my lonesome path
nothing seemed to be known
nothing seemed to be certain
I cling to you my poems
these were not mere words
they were my little tiny candles
in the darkest of nights
I walked in the storm
by myself
I cling to you my poems
and the journey from
nothing to nothing
became so worthwhile.
If you cannot be a poet,
be a poem
you decided to be the poem
and I the poet.
I KEEP YOU AS A POEM
I keep you as a poem
in the core of my existence
I sing all day
you my song
you often shine as the evening star
in my lonesome dreams
you hold my hand
when I am lost in the wilderness
you, the lifeline of a poet
I keep you as a poem
in the core of my existence.
10. DO YOU REALISE
Do you realise
how often you
walk in
in my poems
you sit there
like a baby
till I hug you
express you
on a piece of my soul
there is no space for pain or joy
my soul is so,so filled with you
I am amazed
you still want more of my soul
and incessantly
you create eternal spaces
in my core existence
for yourself
do you realise
how often you
walk in
in my poems.
LINKS FOR POETRY
http://www.setumag.com/2019/12/poetry-sangeeta-gupta.html
https://m.facebook.com/groups/369077159778454?view=permalink&id=2876486589037486
https://books.google.co.in/books?id=9lxLDwAAQBAJ&pg
रोशनी का सफ़र (संगीता गुप्ता)
रोशनी का सफ़र (संगीता गुप्ता) : ज्योतिष जोशी
https://samalochan.blogspot.com/2019/12/blog-post_28.html
संगीता गुप्ता : शब्द और चित्र
https://samalochan.blogspot.com/2019/12/blog-post_5.html
http://globalkhabar.com/News/62389
http://timeskhabar.com/News/50585
चुपके से ..
globalkhabar.com/News/40895