Telescope

Inspired by the word paint prompt.

 

 

Telescope

Blue is blending into blue, indigo,

heliotrope; ancient stars are melting

together into the ultimate formless.

 

A night through this telescope rekindles

hopes to dream more. The ecstatic whisper

of a boy is spreading in the heaven

taking shape, molding into a milky way.

 

 

An old owl is hooting about with disturbed

hunger and broken concentration to

nail a few mice of this lonesome attic.

The boy is a stranger, breaking its habit.

 

 

The boy is in his way to realize

the way mystery multiplies in night.

 In sky. In abstract signs on its canvass. 

He clasps his prize, a treasure hunted out of

the attic. Hoots the owl, again. His eye

once more settles on the glass of the telescope.

It might have been of his grandfather’s in

his youth. The surreal cry of the sky

travels through the bronze conduit of the

                        machine….

 

Time is changing domes of

the soft crystal of sand watch.

© 2008 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar

Reviews

[Helena]

Lovely write as always my friend.

"Blue is blending into blue, indigo, heliotrope; ancient stars
are melting together into the ultimate formless."

"Time is changing domes ofthe soft crystal of sand watch."

I just adored all the stanzas but the beginning and the end I
especially enjoyed.

Bravo!

Helena

[JudyC]

Exquisite images capture the wonder of the night sky. I like the way the boy is connected to his grandfather through this experience. Beautiful descriptions and flow. Thanks for writing this.

[Ankhesen Mié]

"...Hoots the owl, again. His eye
once more settles on the glass of the telescope.
It might have been of his grandfather's
in his youth..."

I like the storytelling quality in this poem; it's enchanting and endearing.

"...Time is changing domes of
the soft crystal of sand watch..."

This bear classic poetic quality. I find the overall work to be delightful.

[alternative_be]

Sometimes I wonder whether we will ever be able to unraffle the mystery of the stars, the traveling of sound and light through time, time itself...
You capture this mystery so well, that I secretly hope that mankind will never be able to, because from that moment on, your beautiful poem would become pointless, which would be a real shame.
Some phenomena are better not explained, so we still have are dreams and inspirations.
What is the use of knowing it all? The world would become dull!

[Kevin]

The ending is the strong point of this. The pictures your painting come to life vibrantly at the end. Very enjoyable. Thank you.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Very interesting wording throughout but really liked the last lines. very nice.

[Diego]

This poem leaves me with a good taste in the mouth. I love the way you play with words and paint the image of what you want to express. A very fine read.... "The surreal cry of the sky..."