Chromatic ErrorsA Poem by Pratik“The Mediterranean has the color of mackerel, changeable I mean. You don't always know if it is green or violet, you can't even say it's blue, because the next moment the changing reflection has taken on a tint of rose or gray.” Vincent Van Gogh (Dutch painter) The porcelain mattress has slipped beneath, Arms flailing, the soul takes its buoyant caprioles , Encased in a plasmatic capsule, It ebbs away in a colored monologue, Magenta turning into copper-bronze, And the plethora of other earth colors. Crusted in the mahogany flakes and the fossil grains I still feel tender shoots of old sown buds, That supple petiole in her aquamarine glory. The neurons affectionately respond At the fondling of the ladybird pincers, Crawling in their oval domes, Their spotted rosy flavor tempting my nostrils. Even the late February snow melts the wan, Gurgling its way to the abodes of motley, I wait for the membranes of the calcite shells to crack, Breaking free of the monochromatic monolith. © 2012 PratikAuthor's Note
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Added on March 2, 2012Last Updated on September 3, 2012 AuthorPratikRaleigh, NCAboutHello! I am Pratik Mukherjee from Calcutta, India - the city of Mother Teresa and the famous poet Tagore. My pen name is Aaran, a variant of the word 'Aran' and derived from the Aran Islands, a gro.. more..Writing
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