the spirit of my evening poem <br />is this drought, <br />in the ocean's womb. <br /> <br />like a moment's lie, <br />on the face of eternity. <br /> <br />My flaunted spontaneity, <br />of the sky's stolen poetry... <br />A freedom, <br />handcuffed in the senses. <br /> <br />the anomaly of perfection. <br />and the throb that begins, <br />just as the life ends. <br /> <br />With the shy reluctance <br />of the first flower-petal, <br />that smears its virginity <br />in the roots of my verse... <br /> <br />And a poem, that begins <br />after the last fulstop.<br /><br />Sarvesh Kulkarni<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/whiff-of-a-poem/
