HEART OF STONE-- CAPT AJIT VADAKAYIL

This piece is for future poets who want to carve a niche for themselves on this planet. 

Poetry is the flow of intense thoughts— otherwise it is NOT poetry.  

It need not rhyme , unless you are writing it as a nursery rhyme for little children to sing along.  Once you start reading poetry you will NOT be able to stop.  And finally when you do stop, you will feel something inside your heart— if it is good poetry.  

Love and nostalgia take very little effort to make that impact. 

Gone are the days of Victorian bombardment. An ordinary man on the street can write good poetry. Good poetry means 90% of the people both erudite and illiterate who read it will be impressed. 

The remaining 10% misanthropes of this planet , who need something other than poetry to get impressed, please excuse.

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My little world now beats dead

like the drum slackened and broken

the same magical stars of those nights

mow prick and taunt my swollen eyes

i remember the night you left while i slept

i bleed myself on the sharp edge of that night

i had welcomed only you, into my soul

then how is that you failed to read 

the eyes of a woman who loved only you

even if it is for one last time

even if it is to hurt and torment me

even if i have to endure the fresh scent 

of the woman from whose embrace you come

could you please come back , just once

i must fill up my aching veins and pores

with your magic just once more

and after i die could you carve my name

on the hardest of all monuments

yes, captain-  on your heart of stone.

CAPT AJIT VADAKAYIL

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