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Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Poet that Wasn't!

After many years and innumerable attempts that continue till date I still haven't been able to understand what it takes to be a poet.Is it the sweet rhyme , the words that toy with your mind or simply the deeper meaning ?
The 'English Poet' has always been a source of great intrigue for me. I have searched far and wide and still my questions remain unanswered. For my part I have even scouted for texts that say 'What makes a true poet?' or the 'The Beginner's Guide to Becoming a Poet' but all such efforts have only ended in vain.
My earliest attempts had always been at getting words to rhyme .I was pretty successful till it dawned on me (courtesy : the English teachers) that poems are not a mere play of words.There is a deeper meaning. So , as I was into experimenting ,I tried my hand at this too but with miserable results .Poems that did not rhyme or were innocent of the sing-song approach did not hold any interest for me.My reading practices were restricted to entertainment .I did not seek philosophical insight into worldly matters nor did I look for inspiration (but this is another matter that I shall take up later). I for one was (to be read as am) a self proclaimed 'Experimental writer' as I only loved (and still do) to play with words- no meaning ,no philosophy just plain entertainment.(I know someone will oppose this! but 'someone' I do not include those writings as among my experiments)
 Now years have passed since I last wrote a poem (read as completed a poem) and here I shall share one of my efforts childhood efforts made back in 2005. These were written during 'prep' time back in Sherwood .Now , do not mistake me to be of the lazy kind , I know prep times means study but try studying after stuffing yourself with 4 hostel-grade chapatis.So here it is :

A KNIGHT'S TALE

(A poem by Anurag Arya ,VIII-B )

I was a knight from the town of Dover
Serving a Count with my horse named Rover
The daring deeds I have done outnumber the men
In the army of the Emperor by hundred times ten

When I was young ten years before
My parents had wanted me to be a writer of lore
My father was a farmer and my mother a housewife
And they valued me more than they valued their life

With the help of my brother,I persuaded them to let me go
And be a knight to fight many a foe
My mother wept and my father stood still
My mother's tears a cauldron could fill

So on the eve of a winter day
For the last time I bundled hay
At night I took my parents leave and set out
Into the unknown world I rode with many a doubt

On the third day of my journey I stood
Before Dover's walls wearing a hood
I rode directly to the Count's great manor
Which bore on its walls , a figure of an anvil and a hammer

The Count took me into his service at once
I was sent to a nunnery to protect the nuns
For a war was in progress at that time
In the country along the coastal line

Within three months I was at the battle front
Leading troops,with them the enemies I would hunt
I did not spare the young or the old
Seeing me the enemies' blood with fear turned cold

Winning honours I was soon knighted in the County
I was the hero of the day and I received a lot of bounty
Everyone present toasted in my name
My parents were there and I earned a lot of fame

During the banquet seated with the old
I saw a beautiful lady dressed in gold
I vowed that very moment on my life
 To marry her and make her my wife

She was the Count's niece I was told
 I walked straight up to her I had to be bold
Kneeling before her for marriage I proposed
She agreed and from the crowd a cheer arose

A month after this when no axe hacked
I was informed that the French had attacked
Leading an army of thirty-three score
I slaughtered the enemy,their coats of mail I tore

I bloodied my sword a thousand times
During the battle , the Battle of Limes
As it was fought on the outskirts of Limetown
Whose people served my country's crown

I lost an arm and an eye
But I did not for once cry
As I knew I could no more
Fight a battle , so I started writing lore

Now that I lie on my deathbed , my friend
I have remembered my good days till the end
When my eyes shut as I die
Please, I beg thee, do not cry

 
This is the last poem that I ever completed. Every attempt since then has been in vain (certain writings not included for consideration) .If you ever decide to pen my life (well I know that is a big ask!) be certain to include a chapter 'The Poet that Wasn't"!






6 comments:

  1. I guess that 'delusional' part of the blogging...still hasn't gone :P
    U r one of the most amazing writers (poets) I have evr come across. U are a complete 'poet' in evry sense, though ofc...U dnt write much (certain pieces not included ;) ) and yeah..as I always say...I LOVE your poems... Keep dem coming :)

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  2. for the delusional part.... I can only say 'company is certainly rubbing off':P ...for the rest .. sure :)

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  3. wow, i love reading u two bantering away :D ;D
    n i thnk ur a gud poet :D

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  4. thanku!! :D and as for our rambalings...I'll give you access to a lot of chats b/w her and me....trust me its a better read than anything published rt nw ;)

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  5. definitely!!...lemme ask her first :P

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