There was just this vague urge to write. The words were not there, not even an idea, just the plain urge and I thought , lets write. Let’s let the hands for once be wilful obedient slaves to the wishes of the mind. Let them not like always cast aspersions, hesitate and ‘backspace’ their way through.
And so these words come to you… with a simple request… let for once your eyes read them. Not each one of them separately, but all together. Let the sum of their parts find the way to your heart without letting the ‘mindful’ watchdogs interpret , translate, transpose and find meanings even for spaces between the words (much like we often do with the silences, when we talk!)
Let these mindless meandering words paint a picture unique . One where each word silently adds a stroke to the canvas . One where you can only see the canvas once all my words are exhausted. For once let my only words talk to you, not their meanings or not even their mindless meanderings..
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And then I thought, this would sound great as a blank verse....There was just this vague urge to write.
Absent were words,
Leave alone ideas,
Just the plain urge and I thought,
Let’s write.
Let’s let the hands for once
Be wilful obedient slaves to the wishes of the mind.
Let them not, like always, cast aspersions,
Hesitate and ‘backspace’ their way through.
And so these words come to you
With a simple request
Let for once your eyes read them
Letting them find
The way to your heart
Without letting the ‘mindful’ watchdogs
Interpret, translate, transpose
Without letting them find meanings
Even for the spaces between words
(Just like we do, so often,
with the silences, when we talk!)
Let these mindless meandering words
Paint a picture unique .
One where each word
silently adds a stroke to the canvas .
One where you can only see the canvas
Once all my words are exhausted.
For once let only my words talk to you,
Not their meanings
Not even these mindless meanderings.....
