Birth of a poem

This is the fourth and the final poem in the anthology of poems called Lifecycle of a poem.

bogomil-mihaylov-519199.jpg
My taloned hands
my bony 
fingers are itching 
to dip themselves in the 
ink and 
paint 
a visceral picture of 
pain and 
beauty and
all that there is;
Chaotic thoughts
in my resplendent mind
is looking for a vent 
a small window,
rushing and pushing them
to get that whiff of air
A word, drop 
dripping here and there 
marks and maps the trail
for my salvation
for my ashen heart
and an
opulent window
for my dreams and desires
A fistful of angst and sadness
poured and rubbed over the pages
molds and shape my
unspoken desires
born naked on the 
nape of my neck
giving voice to the
unborn voices 
in a million tongues.
You can lick, suck and 
soak yourself
in the exuberance of the 
beauty 
I’m carrying within
Before I write and spill
my eternal love
on the few 
pieces of
that yellow faded
papyrus,
I call
my
poetry.
–Megha
Photo by Bogomil Mihaylov on Unsplash

P.S Below are the links to previous anthologies I have attempted. Take a look.

Seven Deadly Sins

Elements of Nature

18 thoughts on “Birth of a poem

  1. Oh my, this truly is the child of a poet and your blog is a nursery, filled with the laughter, tears, joy and fears of thoughts now given life. And to depict this birthing of the poem you write a masterpiece. From he beginning, the image of the predator (an Eagle) is perfect in describing how the poet attacks the ink on paper. Attacking and attacking until all that is left are the innards of thoughts, scattered across the clean page. Then you follow with such gentleness it truly juxtaposes the calmness of the inner spirit that breathes a sigh of relief as this child is given life on that yellow papyrus. What a gorgeous ending to your Lifecycle of a Poem. Just beautiful!!!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Exactly..you got it right to the Tee.That is precisely the reason I have chosen the poems in that order as it reflects the birthing of a poem, right from the definition, to the writer’s block, then the appearance of the muse which finally gives birth to the poem.I absolutely loved your metaphor of Eagle.It’been an absolute pleasure to read your feedback for my poem.Thanks so much from the core of my heart.

    Liked by 1 person

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