Skip to main content

AN UNFINISHED PAINTING

I thought they were perfect.

Strokes of happiness.

Tales of love forever.



But I was wrong….

They were half-done

When the brush slipped.



Never to be picked up again.

My artist was gone…

I never knew, where.



I wish I weren’t

An unfinished painting ,

A toy in the hands of a mortal….

Comments

Priya Joyce said…
so much of pain...
incompleteness...
Tulika said…
What shall I call it?
Somber eyes
Or unsketched face.

And it's
Both.

He loves me/ He loves me not !

-----

My artist was gone…

Winces the very soul.!
RiĂ  said…
Loved the way u have personified an unfinished painting. Pain at its zenith!
Pooja said…
so beautifully written!

loved this piece! :))
Thousif Raza said…
its beautiful... expresses as it should... :) loved it :)
Bikram said…
Sad... it is sad when things dont reach there goal or destination Really SAD
wonderful poem...u hav beautifully described da pain hidden in it
so touching! its so hard to pen down on somthing so intense, but you ahve done it magnificiently!
An Unfinished Painting
With its rough edges and dark secrets
Is so much more beautiful
Than a complete picture
That leaves little to imagination

You write well mate... keep at it...
darshan said…
amazing and beautiful man...!!!very well written.!!
Hemanth Potluri said…
lot of pain in the words sis..but beautifully framed..

urs..hemu.
Randeep said…
Dont worry. You'll get a better artist and he will resume it. :) Tc
joie de vivre said…
kyu??
kyu??
kyu??kyu??
aise sad sad kyu likh rahi hai..i am not liking it..show me up some smile..a big one..like this :D
Anwesa said…
@Lil' Priya,
Thanks dear !
Anwesa said…
@Tulika,

Yes,the soul winces.
Anwesa said…
@Ria,
Thanks dear !
Anwesa said…
@Pooja,
Thanks a lot!
Anwesa said…
@Bikramjit,
Yes,it is.
Anwesa said…
@Life unleashed,
Thanks for the compliment :)
Anwesa said…
@Aditi,
Thank you !
Anwesa said…
@As the mind meanders,
That's how a viewer feels...think about the picture...
Anwesa said…
@Darshan,
Thanks !
Anwesa said…
@Randeep,
A new artist, a new painting.
Unfortunately a painting can have only one artist.
Anwesa said…
@The Peripatetic Nomad,
Thanks dear !!
an unfinished painting... a toy in the hands of a mortal...

the definition beauty of italian painter carlotti would have certainly qualified for this unfinished painting...

looking forward to more of such posts...
Anwesa said…
@Redemption......,

Thanks dude !

Popular posts from this blog

MRS DESPATCHER(PART II)

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS POST… Eighteen months later…. I was beginning to like my work. It was a challenge sometimes. I had learnt to go beyond boundaries. The dreams which had eluded me once, were dawning as reality now. I had my taste of success and as they say nothing succeeds like success. I had developed a knack for solving my own problems. One day , I chanced by a couple who were seated in a corner of the quaint little coffee shop. I couldn’t believe my eyes…. Divya and Sandip…here of all places. I couldn’t help but confront them. Divya was warmer than ever before and Sandip… I knew he was feeling a bit coy..its so typical of him. But I was more than surprised when he asked me to join them. Though I didn’t refuse, they found me going after five minutes. I invited them for lunch on Sunday. It was a fine Sunday morning and my guests were sharp on time. Divya offered me help in the kitchen and I chose not to refuse. My books kept Sandip busy. She could read my mind and went on with h

A C R O S T I C

A s I was walking , C hoosing the hues of life, R ainclouds made an appearance O n the sunny sky above. S cuttling through untrodden paths, T he narrow bylanes,not a soul around, I was indeed lost - Drops of rain C hased me - but Ahoy! a way was found. P.S. :My first attempt on acrostic poetry.Hope my readers will like it. To know more about acrostics,click the link given. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acrostic

ILLUSIONS OF REALITY...

The more you point out my mistakes, The more you are drawn towards me. The more you try to hurt me, The more you bleed in your heart. The more you run away from me, The more my memories haunt you. The more you want to forget me, The more you are reminded of my presence. The more you want to chase me away, The closer I come to you. The more you hate me, The more you end up loving me. The more you call me an “illusion” The more I dawn as the reality of your life….