Vain Pot

I happened upon a blog that truly does the effort of bringing together the un-judged, un-adulterated, un-bigoted and true blue expressions of the inner self via poetry.

here, you can find the raw, unstudied styles of penning (that's a compliment), that somehow achieves to bring you close to the sense of the word it self.

and on this blog, they did a post where we were to contribute a stanza to an ongoing poem, which abruptly ended with my two-bits. cheeeyy... (my part is in blue)



From Poet's Who Blog

It's bleeding skin, visible sin-
a haunting and obvious chorus.
Weep for us, weep for us.

Toils in stone and dust, and
crimes of love and lust;
now scarlet gash binds us all


Memories faded, lives wasted
woven sins and joys infested
we tread along, we trudge alone.
in the hopes of the joys unknown
Wounds and burns still live on
still we tread along, we trudge alone.


to trudge along these shores ajar
baren woes, like smoothened pebbles
worry all that which carries no weight
worry none for the shores afar



First three lines by Sara from The Shores of My Dreams
Next three lines by Nishant from Absorbed
Next six lines by Soham from The Soul and the Witness
Next four by Ben from Resonance of Reverberations




After reading this, i expect praises from everyone. I'd praise myself but that'll make me appear to be narcissistic and vain, and that is not the message that i'd like to bring across. Self praise is no praise after all.

So please, let the flattery and the accolades of adoration pour in and flood this poor little struggling heart of a portfolio manager.

Salut! Je ne fatigue... ZZZzzzzzzzzz......