An imperfect poetry for you

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Sometimes I wonder

how a perfect poetry for you

will be like.

Will it sound more rhythmic

than the way

words come out of your mouth

And that bent accent creates music

in my ears!

Will it become more spontaneous

than the way

you enter in the realm of my thoughts

be it in solitude or crowd

be it in glee or gloom!

Will it look more serene

than the way

Sun slumbers in your eyes

and your lashes wrap it

in warm compassion!

Will it feel more blissful

than the way

my prayers get answered

each time I see others

applauding for your success!

Will it feel more tragic

than the way

tears lose their inertia

and sense collapses in the middle

imagining you away for a moment or two!

Will it carry more tenderness

than the way

your fingers create art out of the heart

scratching your manhood

and filling that with tiny paper cuts!

Will it follow a pattern more concrete

than the way

you try to engrave your personality

with ego, with attitude

without any fault!

Will it be more simple

than the way

you write poetry in the canvas of my mind

with your sleeves folded

and that ethereal grin hanging!

Will it be more exquisite

than the way

I read, I decode, I weave

each inch of your virtues

each iota of your vices!

Will it be more mythological

than the way

I keep each bit of you

in the sacred corner of my memory

to listen every day, to tell one day!

Will it be more romantic

than the way

I smile unconsciously

when you call me sweetheart!

Will it be more dramatic

than the way

our bond germinated from nothingness

and my adoration for you kept burgeoning

each day, a little more!

I can’t conclude

how a perfect poetry for you

will be like.

Maybe imperfectly perfect just like you,

but must be ordinarily special just like you…

©ruchiabhisikta

Published by ruchiabhisikta

sui generis🍀

Published

29 thoughts on “An imperfect poetry for you”

  2. SMiLes
    Poetry
    Of Love
    True
    Poetry
    Of Love
    Is When You
    Walk In Your
    Loved
    One’s
    Home
    Without
    Hearing
    Or Seeing
    Them
    Finding
    LoVinG
    Within
    Eternally
    Breathing
    Now Forever
    Warm This
    Gift
    This
    Present
    True Love
    Now The one (me)
    Whose Bride Even
    After 31 Years of
    Marriage At
    50 is
    More
    Beautiful
    Than When
    i Met Her At 19

    In Every Way

    Hehe And

    If You

    Don’t

    Believe

    me At

    60

    Love

    Is

    Real Now

    Within Inside
    Outside All

    Around Now

    Above So Below

    Verily When Truth

    Yes All The Evidence

    On My Blog Clearly

    Presents

    Oh By The

    Way Love Is Never

    Jealous Or Envies

    Never Requires

    Worship

    Or

    Fears Criticism

    Or Hates Differences

    In Experiencing Joy

    Differently

    Indeed This

    Is Very

    Little

    To Do

    With

    FaLLinG

    In Love And

    All To Do

    With

    RiSinG

    iN LoVE

    Forever

    Now Heaven

    Now Termed This

    Way on Earth True too

    In Doing Many Paths New 🏝

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    1. I don’t really know how to compliment your words. Thanks for gifting me a broad smile through your words. And yes your words, your profile picture are enough to say everything about your love and devotion for your better-half. Sending you loads of good wishes for you and your luckiest beloved🌷

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    1. Thanks for stopping by🌷I wrote about the papercuts from my perspective. It’s about the person who is matured enough to always wear his manhood concealing his softer side deep inside. But I see the child in him raising head when he creates craft by cutting tiny waste papers. I knew that none can relate to it😂. And I am happy that you asked about it😊

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  8. Ruchi, You write very well. There is a golden opportunity for writers in India. A competition is going on, which also has a lot of prizes. The entry fee for participating in the Fest is ₹330.
    Would you like to participate in it? If you are curious then let me know, will send you all the details.

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  10. Guten Tag

    Ich frage mich nicht
    wie Deine Stimme
    in meiner Seele
    zum klingen kommt

    unter Deinen Augen
    werden meine Schritte
    unterbrochen
    da gibt es keinen Weg
    Deinem Wesen zu entkommen

    meine Gedanken
    sind Dir zu Füssen
    kein Stern
    keine Sonne
    lassen die Schrift
    Deiner Lippen
    die Worte
    in meinem Herzen löschen

    die Menschen um mich herum
    wissen meiner Andacht
    meiner Träume
    Deinem Gesicht
    mir nicht

    die Finsternis will mich brechen
    da ich Dich umarme
    von weit her
    in der Dunkleheit von Licht

    Es ist der Schmerz
    Deine Hand nicht zu berühren
    meine Tränen will ich Dir
    nicht eröffnen nicht zeigen

    Kein Gebet wird mir helfen
    als Brücke zu Dir
    die Zärtlichkeit muss ich mir denken
    um nicht überheblich zu sein

    Der Sinn ist der Verzicht
    Glückseligkeit nicht
    im Besitz zu haben

    In jedem Moment
    greift das Verlangen
    mit kurzen Händen
    zu weit

    und doch bleibe ich
    unerfüllt ein Mann
    dem nichts bleibt
    als das Ereignis
    in Worte in ein
    Bild hinein zu tragen
    auch wenn alles
    unvollständig ist
    dem Fehl ganz nah

    denn meine Tugenden
    haben kurze Beine
    ich bin von niemadem
    zu beneiden
    meine Laster sind mir eine Last
    die ich ertragen muss
    ohne jemand anderem zu schaden

    meine Erinnungen klagen mich an
    dem was aus meinem Herzen
    als ein Unfug mich zog in den Bann
    es ist mir weder Zauber
    noch Mythos
    Deine Seele berührt mich
    als zerbreche ich
    als ein Stein im Gebirge

    Gebunden bin ich an
    die wirkliche Welt
    im meinem Inneren
    da wo Du in mir machst
    wie es Dir beliebt
    dem was Du willst
    ich bin nichts besonderes
    ich bin ein Mann

    Herzliche Grüße
    Hans Gamma

    ***

    Good day

    I am not wondering
    like your voice
    in my soul
    comes to sound

    under your eyes
    become my steps
    interrupted
    there is no way
    To escape your being

    my thoughts
    are at your feet
    no star
    no sun
    let the scripture
    Of your lips
    the words
    clear in my heart

    the people around me
    know my devotion
    of my dreams
    Your face
    not me

    the darkness wants to break me
    as I hug you
    from far away
    in the darkness of light

    It’s the pain
    Not to touch your hand
    I want my tears to you
    don’t open up don’t show

    No prayer will help me
    as a bridge to you
    I have to imagine the tenderness
    so as not to be arrogant

    The point is renunciation
    Bliss not
    to have in possession

    Every moment
    the desire takes hold
    with short hands
    too far

    and yet I stay
    unfulfilled a man
    nothing remains
    than the event
    in words in a
    To carry picture inside
    even if everything
    is incomplete
    very close to the defect

    because my virtues
    have short legs
    I am from nobody
    enviable
    my vices are a burden to me
    that I have to endure
    without harming anyone else

    my memories accuse me
    what from my heart
    when mischief drew me under its spell
    it is not magic to me
    still myth
    Your soul touches me
    like I’m breaking
    as a stone in the mountains

    I am bound to
    the real world
    inside of me
    where you do in me
    as you like
    what you want
    I am nothing special
    I’m a man

    Best regards
    Hans Gamma

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  17. This poem is subtly seductive, it spends the right amount of time talking about the possibilities of what a poem about a specific person may be or sound like. It’s like a long scarf with intricate patterns, looking feeling and giving adequate attention to each pattern until it is complete, and the end: I loved the end, it brings it all together in a whisper instead of abruptly stopping.

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