Salty Affair

At times I become too tetchy with an emotional oaf syndrome which I generally nourish and nurture alongwith my creations.
It happened a few months back when I became too spontaneous and wrote off to a magazine in the UK with a poem for their competition.

Naturally, my enthusiasm was danked with cold water as the entry scourged in the first round of selection. It was reasoned, as an inappropriate category, under which I filed my nomination, "Desire" - was meant to be racy enough to keep the readers long awake in bed at night.

Then, I decided to create blog to fan the embers of my poetic jestures raher than sponge on the respected benevolent judges for their appreciations and/or criticisms.
But, it was supposed to come with a meaning - A koine to give insight into the various socio-political, socio-economic and humane facets of exoteric life.

I present you the poem which started it all...

# Speechless through the pane, I see
Spotlees in her beauty, is she

# Foaming the froth of endless crest
Pounding the rocks on boundless breast

# Roaring the fathoms of history
Boring the rivers to mystery

# Checking the deltas here-n-there
Making islands into no-where

# Sailors call for just folk-lore
Tempting All from beaches-shore

# Curls-uncurls All her day
Nibbling sand from her Own bay

# Tub ships on her body drool
Sub marines dive into her pool

# Enjoys the traffic when at her Best
Throwing tantrums at her chest

# A little bit of knocking Mood
And all the fun is over for Good

# If you don't stop teasing around
Dirge of darkness will surround

# A chalky strain of colours line
Where the sun cube drops in Wine.

# Winding through her curvy fars
Breezing through the waves apart

# Coasting on the nearest shore
Boasting of her skills so more...

# Winking at her gorgeous charm
Wonder, how she spreads her arm

# Mystic moment engulfs the fair
Fisher-folk dance above their share

# She chuckles at her own treat
My heart sinks at her retreat

# The day I gain the courage or power
I will cover One Mile to shower!


And, Oh yes, I tried to think of Desire as an impaired child wishing to cover a mile to the sea which he can see daily but not feel.
It is a desire because it is far from reality for him to realize such a small thing as he can now only visualize the lasting feeling.