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Portraits of Passion

Portraits of Passion

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Published by Praveen Kumar
poem from praveen kumar
poem from praveen kumar

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Published by: Praveen Kumar on Jun 01, 2009
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06/14/2010

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PORTRAITS OF PASSION

Life is an eternal triangle Where two sides spawn the third And delivers fulfilment; Caught is my soul 'tween heart and mind, And churned like curds in a tug of war; I yield to fate like a prisoner-of-war And hope an accord 'tween the warring sides To bring sweet peace and freedom for soul And settle my fate for both the sides With heart for heart and mind for mind ; One is in shades, the other, in light And I am caught ‘tween shade and light; One is past, the other is present And I am caught ‘tween the past and the present In a tasteless void and mindless welter In weightless state between two worlds. I am lost in a feelless ocean, No fulcrum to revolve around ; I am lost in an endless heaven, No signboard to guide me along. The vennels of far sunshine of peace Play hide and seek through clouds And rouse me with the patches of the past In the cool complacence of the present And I wonder where I am : In warm sunshine or cool shades? Gold-edged clouds filter aureate sunshine And refract to portraits of passionSoft woolly poems Of sweet reflections of turbulent moments ; It is a reflected glory In contrast to hard realities That makes life a dream and dream, a life And me, a torn rag, Soaked in bitter joy ; Passions drip like blood And coagulate to unknown words To paint colourful portraits Of the twin opposite worlds. This is how I am today,

This is how I am today, Neither here, nor there, nowhere, Yet everywhere, in splintered passions. The wind of passion and the barriers of reason Pull apart from sides, The heat of the past is at the back And I run forward Like a mad dog, Eyes shut, All senses excised from now and here, Somewhere, I know not where. In hope of meeting the past In the circular world. The world revolves round and round And all the times are eternally bound In unending cycle of the rise and fall Where all, influx, yet immobile and still. Where it all began, where it will lead, Where the process passes, where it will stop, I, in blinkers, cannot foretell, But grope like an amblyope in night; Warm sunshine hid from sight Like dusk Spread gloom around Till the vennels of warm sunshine Reappear in horizons Like divinity opening winnocks To flush the out darkness within To the drains of the past. The night is cool and beautiful, Cairn and still, while all asleep; Full-moon smiles in reflected verve And soothes sprained uneasy nerves. Dawn and sunshine are warm and bright Like live and eager spirit; It awaken from the age-old sleep And fledge the sprite for sky-high rise To absolute divinity Of joy, peace and contentment; Opens up new horizons Of thrills of explorations

Of new worlds of experience and growth To supermanhood; I am neither asleep nor awake, But in confounded state Of uncertainties. Sometimes here, sometimes there, Always in shuffling feet Like one on the balancing act; How long this state, Uncertain myself In this wasted exercise? It all must end someday And pave a royal way To the passion's sweet world. I must patiently wait, I must patiently wait, I must patiently wait For the dawn of the golden age.

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