Pulp of the heartwood
Embeds my poems
Laddered with the stench of pigments and dyes
Ink rollers and the water rollers
On the plate round
Inciting the offset
To impose
His ignoble authority
My imperious puke in blind uniformity
I won’t be I
No more
Shuddering amongst the bestsellers
Discounted, pleading for attention
Your fluttering slave forever
The heartwood grumbles its forsaken fate
Brahms performs scrupulously
Stop rewind play
Quintet
arjun bagga 
Hmm, sounds like some early memories in the print industry? If that is correct, above all, you will remember the smell 😀
Gawd, i can contest to that! 😉
Print has a smell all of its own 😀
It’s like a tattoo for the brain.
True that, once smelled, never forgotten
Nice switch from the written to the ethereal of music. Unexpected, like a rocket launch.
It made sense. The consequences of being an artist irrespective of success or sphere is but the same. A mere entertainer, a joker….till the curtain falls.
The tears of a clown…
Classic. No wonder why some notable comedians have committed suicide.
It’s the greatest joke a comedian can ever tell… except only one can understand it.
True. No need to. There’s always a new show coming up in a theater near you.
Ain’t that the truth, brother… ain’t that the truth.
Ha Ha. Absolutely. It never stops. Good to see you brother!
I was just thinking, it’s one of those days, I think that you, A, should tie that bandana around Johnny’s hat, and let me borrow it.
so much pulp, so may trees it costs, for reams of paper .. and the sheer thickness of some volumes, written in an age long forgotten… sharing the writers thoughts, dreams and for some, music… a compete ensemble.. x
I could use your comment as the foreword 😉
My comment is yours to do with as thou whilst … 🙂 … I wonder… (but then I wonder a lot)… since the onset of the internet, by blogging on sites such as this, and Kindles….etc.. none use of paper.. wise… is that saving trees?
Never without your permission as I’m sure you’ll respond AYE!
Absolutely. That’s how I’d like to believe. Something good in everything. Blog won’t pay us, poetry doesn’t either. Not in this digital world we’re in.
I wonder, (again) if commented words are © ?.. most likely not, so on your page they’re probably your property? 🙂 … and I just got spammed by an online ebank, saying they loved one of my poems, I wonder if they’d buy it? 😉 xx
Ha Ha! I envy your fan base.
Every expression is your copyright. People should acknowledge at least.
I wonder again… if there’s no such thing as original thought, .. then everything is plagiarism… and © means not a jot. 😉
Super creative.
Thanks Genie.
I love this picture Arjun: great frame!
Thank you Peter!
Arrgghh! I left a long comment and it didn’t go through (am using my phone). Suffice it to say I said the poem was brilliant!
Thank you Carrie for coming by. Brilliant is very good for me!
A marvelous image and poem. The marriage of the two makes adds to each.
In fact that was on my mind. I’m relieved with your comment. Thank you so much Elena.
This is written from a really interesting point of view Arjun. It’s original, and that ain’t easy to come by!
Thank you Michele. I wrote this the night of my visit to a friend’s printing press. My first time. To understand the process right from the time a wood cutter makes a random mark with his axe was overwhelming. Brahms is essential for my existence and that night I experienced the connect, the harmony between the axe and the reader. Spider’s fear has merit.
Aha! I love hearing the back story to the creation of a poem. Especially this one – the interdependence of it all. Thanks Arjun
Ah! My reader who also lends me a sympathetic ear is an accomplished poet, I highly admire.
Thank you Michele!
Wow,Arjun, this poem its very Nice…as great writer i see in this poem THE originality and THE creativity from a men who is really sensitive,well done Arjun!
Massi, you’re comment is going to cost me a lot. I’m heading out to celebrate!
Love the picture and very intriguing title. You can always learn from the past but you have to learn and try to leave it behind you. And you can ask yourself a question, can you try to escape from your fate ?
Now that you’ve said it, no more escaping. I’ll take fate head on in style. I just had a vision of it. Can I share it with you? and promise you won’t laugh.
I had to firmly hold my mouth right away but I can be also serious and I will not laugh! So ?
Vision was, I’m going to take fate head on in a fedora dark steel grey-textured hat with satin edging. Crisp herringbone shirt, metal cufflinks with black stones. Double breast jacket and American fold pants, slim fit. Handmade Richelieu shoes and a satin scarf with “A’ weaved, waving out from my Jacket pocket in a black vintage Cadillac. The mellow stink of wine from the backseat reminds me of the gal I dated the night before. She left me with a kiss not on the cheek but the rear view mirror. My regular .38 in the dashboard and Romeo Y Julieta No 6 puffin out rings of smoke…
Howz that?! 🙂
Ah! Music in the car? Brahms not suited for this endeavor. You take a pick. Jazz , of course!
…..So great! You owe me one, could it really not let to laugh, hope you don’t mind. I think you are a beautiful person with a very lively and sparkling mind (no one will find your company bored, unless you wants) and you can also articulate fantastic,what not everyone have as gift. Wish you a very pleasant evening and I go play some jazz too 🙂
That is so very pleasing to hear. I feel awesome. Thank you so much Shiro. You have a great evening. Ciao 🙂
Ciao 🙂
You have a gift and a talent, but most of all a very creative mind!
Not until I’ve written an outstanding poem as you have. About that friend of yours in the graveyard?!. That’s a masterpiece.
Thank you!
Thank you very much for coming by!
also read the answers …
I always do.
I’m surrounded by your kindness, your way of seeing the beauty in all the people who come to see you.
The Internet is an extraordinary world.
and You’re part of it.
Only thing missing is the smell … but you’re a poet kind and you can make it stand out from the screen.
the paper has its scent .. like any the things we circondamo.
silent, but I will follow you forever.
a huge hug.
vento
Always grateful for your whispers and touch Vento!
I am grateful to you,
and you do not know what …
buona giornata arjun
vento
fate is sealed, joy teases, wind knows
and I should never find out
buona giornata
Ha! That image looks like a toy! There was this slide toy thing where the wheel went back and forth as one tilted it in OCD passion. I want to do that with the cage round the engine. The illusion of being stuck, or the illusion of being able to do anything more, if I try hard enough? Maybe just a nice relaxing game of back and forth. I still want to think that further publishing might get me someplace. Maybe that’s just a different sort of geographical cure? OH, and another thought before the third sip of tea…your writing, it made me think then, that all artists of any kind are only there for giving pleasure, and wish to get paid. Just another sort of prostitute then? I don’t know if I am quite happy with that think. See? I can give myself twists and thinks too.
Your toy thought is bang on my suggestion. One sip down, think…mm… I’m not happy with that think. Why get prostitutes into this? You should know I’m quite touchy about them
I am quite touchy about them too. I am thinking just to spit at that thinker and then laugh and tromp off to do what I like.
Fine. I have always wondered which is better, to have a thing taken from me, or to be paid for it. Do I have some sort of control or choice one way or another? How about value? I think that I will never get free from this spiked onto the tree place. I do not yet know how to see it any other way, and it hurts.
and it hurts.
Honestly Elisa, I could tell you ten things. It’s economics, demand and supply, just a job, don’t get emotional…We both have heard these explanations many a times and it doesn’t help us. Hence this poetry. At times I wonder if there’s some external force that writes through me and the day it’s done my time will be up. I’m not even sure if I’m in control of anything not even what I create, I think I create.
smoochies!
You’re a creative guy, Ajun, yes, totally.
Nah..Creative is you. I’d like to be the waft of smoke hoping to linger on for a bit more.
Glad to see you Lovely Daffodil!
I gave my heart for your good pleasure. You filled it with music, played it, tired of it, placed it, tenderly, on a shelf. Is this not the purpose of life? Is this not love? You, Arjun my friend, are provocative. Keep doing.
Pardon a fickle mind. It best knows to stray. How can I grieve over a choice I made nor can anybody be subjected to respond as I fancy. Thank you Ian.
Never give the expected if it’s not from the heart. Never expected a heart to be mindreader. Gather the crop, remove the chaff, celebrate over the harvest. Your work, and the comments it elicits, is delightful.
This photo is fantastic!
And the poem so strong! Full of emotion.
It’s better to remain oneself than to have a lot but he lost…
So good to see you Julita. Thank you very much for the kind words.
I agree. In fact allow me to confess. I’ve not just lost but destroyed, either by my hands or let them do it which is apparent in all my writings. No reason why, I get bored.
had to read this twice, very good Arjun, like the ending and this “My imperious puke in blind uniformity” I have always wanted to write that word puke in a poem it can mean so many things, what a poem. 😉
Awesome it feels… Use it please! Ha Ha Ha..
And now that you’ve turned up, I’m itchy about my next post..
A hundred likes and lots of comments. Life is sweet.
And one more from the dude, bliss!
🙂
Good to see you Ron! 🙂
Very “Arjun” by which I mean a good thing. Always with a twist that takes it out of the ordinary.
I hope you didn’t misunderstand my comment. It was meant in the best possible interpretation!
Some comments are too special to reply. You just read them again and again, smile*
A ❤ from a bookish sort with an ear for music.