Agitations

This is one of my first poems when I was struggling to express what I felt but had no words for them. So it is a little bit intense. Uh-huh.. just a little!


Agitations of this spirit
Agitations to create
Agitations of wht insufficiency
The soul of art that would not awake

Aptly said young Keats who mourned
Pleading and puzzled at You who poem
Bards of passion and of mirth,
Reveal to me your secrets birth

Agitations of this spirit
Agitations to create
Agitated for what's out of reach
Yet empty so empty is my talent's crate.

Music escapes and leaves a stale
Mediocrity, the common scale
Philosophy mocks this ignorance
Depths of words begs abeyance
Rather than to be used
In moments of an amateur's peruse.

The waters of music
Reaches deep to overwhelming
But taste what's mine - like tumeric
Saffron balm yet not soul's suffering

Why do I not hold
the Ladle to scoop
Waves of emotions, hot or cold
Skill to blow the salty waters and bolt
Lightning to scourge
Till souls implore
"Halt"- the strength of music hurts
For beauty so deep stirs tears and blood!