Jaye, Poems for you.

Do all writers go through cyles of fallow and flourish with regards to specific genres of literature? Fore me it happens with poetry. Sometimes there have been dry periods lasting even half an year. Then without any premonition the flow starts again. I would like to fancy that this process to be an upward spiral-each time poetry finds me I am a better vehicle than the last time round. But ofcourse it is not necessarily so!

I have finally written two poems not able and eventually not feeling to write one for the past 3 months. Check em out!

1. Sitting on the banks she dropped a pebble.
From that wretched loci now recur her thoughts;
Incessant ripples that spread out to the banks.

2. Can I sit still?
With no Doors on the Player
and Pirsig on my mind?
Without worries that ache
and dreams that flake?
Especially without her memories
that are now mementoes?
After every trip the last resort
is to sit still by myself.
Can I sit still with only
loneliness for company?