Love knocked on my door around 3:15 p.m

What if I haven't gone through those gloomy episodes of breakup? I am poet and that's what a poet does-Empathise!

Love knocked on my door,
around 3:15 p.m
Trying to get inside
Until I stood like an ogre,
Spreading my hands and legs,
Preventing it from crossing the very threshold.

(Flashback)

Mesmerised by those sparkling eyes
And the formless body shape
All red hot,
With blood oozing out of those minuscule pores everywhere,
I asked if love comes with a tinge of happiness
To which they said,
Yes, it's the greatest among all the feelings.
Yes, it's the antonym of the most despised in the world-pain.
Yes,it binds together the family, the lovers and the peers.
It attracts everything beautiful and removes all the fears.

Attraction kept on increasing towards that unusual guest.
Opening those iron gates,
I led it into the hallway
And made it sit upon the couch of my empty heart.
It filled in all the spaces there.
It kissed all the walls and flung its arms around the lobes
Until it mingled with the oxygenated blood flowing through the arteries, veins and capillaries.
It became the source of survival.
It replaced the workings of oxygen.


But One day,
It left that heart
The very seat of its Kingdom.
It didn't even say it's last goodbye
To the capillary group, it's closest business partners
It didn't even kiss that oxygenated blood on the forehead tenderly
But left without delivering any sort of message.
Alas! I didn't have any phone to contact it.
Until some futile wanderings brought me to a place where
It was lying all tossed and bleeding too very hard.
I touched and it turned,
But refused to recognise this old friend.
It refused to come with me anymore.
It said it had shed its attire of pretence already.
It couldn't behave happily anymore
It couldn't jump like a frog during the rainfall
It was crossed and deceased
It asserted that heart could not respond.
It vanished with all its bloody garb into a fine, thin air.

Two years elapsed and I kept on waiting for the door to swing open
A fast motion which would sweep me off my feet.
But the door was just---
A stubborn, iron door.

And now after two years
When things are long forgotten,
It has come as a fresher with all those gentlemanly values and demeanor
Trying to spread happiness
It may be a fresh sapling
But I am completely withered.
I just closed the door and retreated like "nothing ever happened."

Author's Note

I don't know. But there's some reason behind the choice of time in the title.
Like one of the greatest Romanticists, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, I saw a vision today and I woke up only to jot this down.All those words and phrases and stuff were ready and tiptop in my vision. Strange.. isn't it? I know it's long but I couldn't help changing a single thing about this poem, straight from the vision.I saw it in the afternoon so have given an approximate time of 3:15 p.m.I prefer not calling it a fragment. It seems complete .Isn't it?
Haha, no one can compare himself to Coleridge. He rocked and still rocks(his poems I mean).
But I am glad I could realise the power of poetry through this experience:)

Reviews

[James]

Love lies bleeding. Its never easy to have this kind of heart surgery in the open. Kudos Fattycbreezy52 !!!

[fattycbreezy52]

Haha.A good observation I must say!
Thanks for your review James:)

[ANTO]

It were closer to 3:17 (I think).
Im amazed at the talent it takes to lay this track down in one. Its akin to laying a lawn of turf grass and seeing flowers emerge from it as soon as it gets its first taste of water. That how amazed I am.

The see the door being closed - it would seem for good and to see it deteriorate and be non-functional and fail in its defining purpose is sad. This poem made me sad but amazed-sad.

The hope at the end however turned my upside-down smile upside down - the sapling will grow and it will infect all with its willingness to grow - including the narrator, I feel.

Your poems are so filled they spoil the reader like a badly filled taco - supremely tasty and moreish.

Thanks for sharing this and for inciting a Coleridge riot in my head FCB. :))

[fattycbreezy52]

Your reviews are supremely tasty too..I always look forward to some of them. And why 3:17? haha.I would really like to know that:D

[ANTO]

*fixes powdered wig and hold onto lapels of silk gown* ...ahem..*coughs* to clear throat
"I put it to you my learn-ed colleague - the question should not be why 3:17 but why not?"

lol - I always look forward to some of them - lmao .. classic

[fattycbreezy52]

Then what about 3:15? (*feels dejected*)

[ANTO]

I got an email from a friend who said they had woken at 3:47 - I found it hilarious. I was just yanking your chain - dont feel dejected - aww... now I feel bad :(
this is infectious lol

[fattycbreezy52]

Hahaha dont worry. .I am smiling currently (on seeing this comment of yours).So smile too.
Let's make it infectious lol

[ANTO]

:)) big smile, new tie

[Tom McRoberts]

For some reason your bracketed flash-back reminded me of the Monty Python gag halfway through 'The Meaning of Life', "Welcome to the middle of the film." Though, I think the poem really works because of how jarring the transition is. The opening stanza is playful ("ogre") and sets up expectations of this being a more comedic piece--then, the poem takes a radical shift into Romanticism (starting strong with language like "mesmerised") building up to the same point in time canonically, emphasising to the reader how detached the narrative voice was in blocking the door.

You're a smartie.

[fattycbreezy52]

Thanks Tom.Good to see you after a long, long time!

[B]

The tale of love
going high and riding low

Your poem has a rhythm to it
and shape as well

Amazing

[fattycbreezy52]

Thanks dear Nisreena :) your words are encouraging:)