Forgery
when the artist sits down to create
his thoughts hover six feet above the ground
his restless mind attempts to (re)capture
the malleable experiences of the day
in beautiful and enduring shapes and forms
he longs for meters of verse that spark and glow
like hot branding iron smoldering in the dark.
he shall brandish his posthumous mark
on the pale blank sheets
and the fire that burns eternally
is the anguish uniquely felt
the artist knows no repose
for his mind itches like a flea-infested dog
and no remedy can be found
unless this heavenly itch
pours forth
in marvelous words
written in fleeting ink.
ARASH FARZANEH
Copyright
Rani's Note: I was deeply honoured to feature this poem of the artist and artisan expressed so beautifully by Arash, who kindly consented to let me feature it in this blog. I'm looking forward to some more of his contributions if he is willing.
http://arashworld.blogspot.com/
