Advertisements

Those Rubenesque Flutes

In every fissure of those Rubenesque flutes

I blew to my heart’s yearning  deep sighs

 of burlesque passions,

 

Sync together euphonious hums of those 

unrequited moments, which like whiffs get

infused in elements of thin air,

 

A melodious tune conceived out of the duskier

crevices of fluted grooves where dwells

hooves of undeclared pains…

 

Laments of past, of present of coming tomorrow 

ensembled  by porous winds in those 

dark gorges 

 

Each sigh, every whiff, all breaths harmonized

to escape out of the curvatures of the fabled

 flute of the mighty gods

 

Those rhythms on whom senile poets pen bleeding

verses,Darvash twirls and kneels on tombs

Tempests rage and coil

 

Puff every bellow to fan hollow winds in raven

holes of  columned grooves to release

beats born out of sorrows

 

Grief allows more grief, suffering begets more

suffering, these amorous yearnings will 

Conceive  more longings… 

 

Translucent vibrations begotten out of the pits

of grief and solitude resting since decades

in those Rubenesque flutes…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

31 thoughts

  1. Tanya, my dear, such a beautiful and meaningful write. So much in here I do not even know where to begin. You bring everything together so well: ” Those rhythms on whom senile poets pen bleeding verses… Laments of past, of present of coming tomorrow …grief and solitude resting since decades/in those Rubenesque flutes…” Gorgeously done!

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: