I started this blog a little more than a year ago with the intention of making it my 'practice-ground'.
As I reflect today on all that I had written (and unwritten) in it, I realise how effective a "teacher" this blog has been to me in the past one year. It was this blog that made me realise that I too could write some poetry, lousy though they may be in comparison to others'. But write I did - one poem after another - as easily as I breathed. I suppose that was a different phase than what I am going through now.
These days poetry comes to me only occassionally. It asks triggers of me that I cannot offer at its whims and fancies. It longs for an artistic muse who no longer exists in my life. And so nowadays, I find myself compensating (poems) with prose in retaliation. Though somewhat more tedious, prose appears to be less demanding on me. It (prose) forms itself as I type away, independently stringing the words I have in my head into comprehensible sentences, and then into coherent paragraphs. And yes, less clingy they are too.
Perhaps, poetry came into my life so that I could get it out of my system once and for all. Now, there won't be any regret. would there? Poetry in. Poetry out. Score settled. The page is empty once again to start anew. Yet another year. Yet another 'chapter' to be written.
Only this time around, the 'chapter' has to lead to another...and another, and another...
Heck, must everything I write make sense ? I think not, and this post is a classic example.
2 comments:
Excellent, poetry in poetry out, sounds like a financial transaction in a banking system. Nevertheless it's a fantastic ground for practice on the grounds of practice as you said the blog is. Great self-reflection over the years, keep it up and pls don't watch too much "padmini's" pictures and get all skewed up.
grunt, grunt, grunt. :)
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