Every time I write a Poem

Every time I write a poem,

I do research on my system.

The research says infinite words,

Some are broken without a separation,

some even pronounced in silence.

When I close my eyes,

the days of my pupil changes its mode tonight.

Some starry some shady.

Breaths beat in a rhythm

and words fall in iamb. 

I travel and dig the hole of every vein 

Sharing a story - known to 

The frame of unknown.

As if the veins were showing

my biopic to the brain. 

I write beautiful lines to 

strike in a most passionate way.

Yes, I strike it with curls,

the curls of my body - aching vigorously,

without a reason but a reason within. 

I put these words neatly in a paper to read them,

but they woo me to blush.

Yes, I blush it with punctuations,

The punctuations of limit.

I go paper by paper to -

express the tsunami of emotions. 

The painful are the easiest to digest,

Wherein the happiest are their own antonyms.

I arrange these errors (words) in an order,

in the order of my extra grown hairs -

straight and confused. 

They grow and grow, ceaselessly. 

I shave them to defeat,

but they grow with me to trap me in between razors.

Beautifying them I grow,

To sow them to you.

They are the product of infinite filtration. 

Hope that helps you to appreciate 

the artist in you and in others.