Ishaisms, Poetry

The Currently Classic

A gossamer affection dipped in monochrome is born,
as the uncrowded lanes of memory we walk down;
nostalgia nonchalantly negates the chrysalis within our souls
making hearts soar as we near this tedious technicolour world…

We dream of the classics in our waking realities,
crave for a drop of poetry in this mundane madness –
typing in inspired fury of wild seas and green hills,
fingers craving ink stains; fingers craving dripping quills…

We are the filmmakers of the past, we live in a created set,
take every opportunity we can, in vintage silences to reflect;
for some worlds need neither time machines, nor logic,
they draw us in, each time, with their evergreen enigma, and magic!

Β© Isha Garg

64 thoughts on “The Currently Classic”

  1. Beautifully written as well as inspiring. Crave a drop of poetry in the mundane madness. Yes, poetry is our escape. One of the wonderful things that makes life and the daily grind so worthwhile. Isha, this was truly inspiring.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Ah, I couldn’t agree more Drew! Poetry does make reality worth it. What is life if not fodder for poetic inspiration, right? πŸ˜‰
      Your feedback is so cherished. Thank you! 😊

      Liked by 2 people

  2. This is undoubtedly a new Isha, such exquisite poetry! I couldn’t help reading it again and again..the beginning gets you hooked and as the middle stanza starts getting humdrum..you are struck by the brilliance of the third. We are film makers of the past! Cannot help quoting the lines, brilliant!

    We are the filmmakers of the past, we live in a created set,
    take every opportunity we can, in vintage silences to reflect;

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Take a bow gorgeous poetess😍
    What’s life without poetry and what’s my life without your posts😘
    This was exquisitely beautiful.❀️ Love the alliterations in between. Kudos!🌼🌼🌼

    Liked by 2 people

  4. As I read, I can hear the crackle of a film projector as it throws black and white scenes on the dark wall of our consciousness. I hear your voice reading out your contemplative, lines … and this time, my imagination is captured without need for a pre-emptive doodle. This is a special piece Isha…the mere mention of “fingers craving ink stains; fingers craving dripping quills…’ has me yearning for another time. Golden words dear lady ….<3

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I always love the build up of your comments, Diana, replete with images and humbling adoration! How lucky I am to have you here 😘❀ The line you singled out is my favourite too, and the entire poem was built around it ❀😍

      Liked by 1 person

      1. All hail to you for taking a pearl of a phrase and stringing together an exquisitely beaded piece. Shines bright for smiling evening eyes 😍 πŸ“– πŸ•

        Liked by 1 person

  5. This is so beautifully-written, Isha! I specially love these lines:

    ‘We dream of the classics in our waking realities,
    crave for a drop of poetry in this mundane madness –
    typing in inspired fury of wild seas and green hills,
    fingers craving ink stains; fingers craving dripping quills’ ❀ ❀

    Liked by 3 people

    1. This is one of the most special comments for me! You reminded me of Poe’s Dream within a dream – one of my absolute favourites! The photo was taken at an opportune moment of winter sunshine years ago… So glad you like it! ❀😊

      Like

  6. The lines, ‘for some worlds need neither time machines, nor logic,
    they draw us in, each time, with their evergreen enigma, and magic!’ say it all. The wonders of a time, a memory we hold so dear.

    Liked by 1 person

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