Misfortune
Legend, Love, Nature, poetry

Deliquesced

In the murkiest corner of my

house, behind vintage armarium

lingers shadowy smoke of a

lone candle lite once.

 

The flame long extinguished

leaving behind a sooty smog

that hovers an abandoned cloud

 

Reminiscence of days when

arrogant flicker competed

with the mighty rays of Sun.

 

Callously it turned its head

towards the scorching beam

In exhilaration of youth before

time melted away.

 

The satin wax of exotic bees

deliquesced and fell apart like

the fall of Icarus leaving a dark

cloud on the walls…

 

 

 

 

 

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asked to live a dream
Love, Nature, poetry

If I ever asked to live a dream

Oh! If I ever asked to live a dream,

It would be adjacent to a river stream

where the topaz rays of the sun will beam.

I will build myself a wooden cabin of dream.

 

Where hues of porcelain charmed elves will dwell.

just hoping all of it is not some beautiful spell,

Golden leaves will flutter like the shrine bells

surrounding would be spouting magical fountains

cascading down from the tall mystic mountains.

 

In the azure torrents, doe-eyed maidens will swim,

singing praises to eternal love of Sheba and Solomon.

On its currents, hope and peace will forever brim

the gushes of cerulean water will drift far-far away,

to have a rendezvous with herculean oceans at a bay.

 

Unfathomable dark canals will run deep in Earth’s womb,

on whose banks again the splendid Atlantis will bloom.

Mythical civilizations resting in the sea in their tombs

will flourish golden El-dorados will resurrect to be exhumed.

 

Apostles will bow down once to a mundane dream,

kneel and  pay holy ablutions to the sacred streams

regal butterflies and dragonflies will sing blessed hymns

A humble abode of divine tranquility I will build

where no  human vision or dream ever be slained

 

All this and more If I ever asked to live a dream!

It would be adjacent to a river stream….

 

 

Kubla Khan, the emperor
Legend, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry

Kubla Khan

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 
A stately pleasure-dome decree: 
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran 
Through caverns measureless to man 
Down to a sunless sea. 
So twice five miles of fertile ground 
With walls and towers were girdled round; 
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, 
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; 
And here were forests ancient as the hills, 
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. 
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted 
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! 
A savage place! as holy and enchanted 
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted 
By woman wailing for her demon-lover! 
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, 
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, 
A mighty fountain momently was forced: 
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst 
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, 
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: 
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever 
It flung up momently the sacred river. 
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion 
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, 
Then reached the caverns measureless to man, 
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean; 
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far 
Ancestral voices prophesying war! 
The shadow of the dome of pleasure 
Floated midway on the waves; 
Where was heard the mingled measure 
From the fountain and the caves. 
It was a miracle of rare device, 
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! 
A damsel with a dulcimer 
In a vision once I saw: 
It was an Abyssinian maid 
And on her dulcimer she played, 
Singing of Mount Abora. 
Could I revive within me 
Her symphony and song, 
To such a deep delight ’twould win me, 
That with music loud and long, 
I would build that dome in air, 
That sunny dome! those caves of ice! 
And all who heard should see them there, 
And all should cry, Beware! Beware! 
His flashing eyes, his floating hair! 
Weave a circle round him thrice, 
And close your eyes with holy dread 
For he on honey-dew hath fed, 
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge
 
(Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a leader of the British Romantic movement, was born on October 21, 1772, in Devonshire, England.)
Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge is my all time favorite poem. Published in 1816 it remains Coleridge’s one of the most admired poems. The poem is masterpiece as far as the language and imagery goes. Coleridge wrote it after having an opiate induced dream about the great Mongol ruler Kubla Khan and his famous palace in Xanadu. To me this poem remains a literary magic, for I’ve never enjoyed a poem as this. Whenever I read it I am transported back in the history to the magnificent and mythical palace of Kubla Khan. I hope you all enjoy this as much I)