Here is a piece of prose poetry that I wrote recently. But still, out of habit, I bugged a really good friend of mine who happens to be a poet as well and has grasp of English meter, which I lack, to review it because I could feel a rhythm in this poem. And as expected, it still would be better to call this prose poetry, because it’s a cocktail of feet which isn’t considered metric. But an interesting thing that he told me was, if I intended to give it a metric term then it would mean trying to invent a new meter which could be called either “Trocho-iambic” or “Iambo-Trochaic” because: “this poem consists of 28 trochees (46.67%) and 25 pure iambs (41.67%) and if we count the 2 double iambs, they become 29 (obviously), which is like: 48.33% So……. we can’t consider any of them in majority, they both are in highly comparable quantities (“highly comparable quantities” as if this is some physics sh*t)”….
Hahah! 😀 ….. So I hope you enjoy this poem:
Be the reed flute that breathes notes high and low.
Be the song that resounds in every heart.
Be the flame that burns and sways in each soul.
Be the end that ends at the doors of start.
A caged nightingale sings laments in grief.
Its mellifluous song enthralls your mind.
Listen to its melody when set free.
Such glee, a soul is envisioned to find.”
Written: 18th September 2012.
Photo Credits: An Artwork by Artist Mitra Banejad. Click Here!
The friend that I mentioned above is Talha A.K. =)