16 Oct 2009
The Painting
The land barren
Baked dry in summer heat
The solitary tree
Unseen by rain in ages
The forlorn bird
In the middle of flight
The empty nest
A home reduced to ruins
The blistering Sun
On the edge of the horizon
The cloudless sky
Gloomy in hues of dusk
The singular path
Untrodden then, now and hence
The fallen leaf
Bare to the trampling step
The red of Sun, the blue of sky
The brown of land, the green of leaf
All of them on the canvas together
And yet each of them numb and alone
Riot of color on the canvas white
But none has seen the missing hues
Save the painter, young and dreary,
Whose heart beats at uneasy pace
Comments (5) Trackbacks (0) Permalink
By oblivion:
26 Oct 2009, 11:53am [ Reply ]
@chunmun: thank you. as regards the pointer to joyce's work, it may be the keywords - painter, young,...
@An Observer: thanks for the observation. when i could pen some delightful description, i surely will.
By vj:
26 Oct 2009, 11:29am [ Reply ]
@lc: thanks, lc. hope u r good, too. tried traveling for a few days.
have a wonderful day!
By lc:
23 Oct 2009, 12:57pm [ Reply ]
hope you are good, wherever you are, vj!
By An Observer:
20 Oct 2009, 10:11am [ Reply ]
Why is the persistent sense of darkness in all these writings? Is it because grief is reflected effectively in writing and not joy? Not really! Would like some a spread of joy from your writing. Just keep wondering how would it be to read some delightful description in your style!
By chunmun:
17 Oct 2009, 4:55pm [ Reply ]
Very beautiful and vivid word pictures...dont know exactly why, but reminds of Joyce's 'A portrait of the artist as a young man'...