deepundergroundpoetry.com
Imperfectionist
English is not my native,
And she is not the mother of my tongue-
Even though I wish she could.
Yet I want to become its perfect scribe-
One who can bend and twist the heart out,
Boldly from an altitude compared to Victoria Falls.
My grandpa could be my pioneer-
I crown him as the magician of all languages,
He tossed cerumen, virility, and a she-goat peeing.
So I suffer from this acute metabolism,
That restricts me to imagine beyond bra-panty-
You can call me an imperfectionist and not a perfect scribe.
Since my childhood I have a knack of learning the finest form of english even though it is not my mother tongue. ‘A for apple’, ‘B for boy’, was
not sufficient for me, and I wanted to express the core of my feelings, the barest of all possible in the language. Learning any foreign language is not successful until you are entirely acquainted with the culture, so my grandpa used to imagine strange things in this part of the world and wished to express them in english. This was how he felt growing with a language. Unlike him, whatever you learn in a new language will still leave you as an imperfectionist. I love English, and I breathe English, and this one is a tribute to the discipline of the language that has inspired me over the years to compose this one.
And she is not the mother of my tongue-
Even though I wish she could.
Yet I want to become its perfect scribe-
One who can bend and twist the heart out,
Boldly from an altitude compared to Victoria Falls.
My grandpa could be my pioneer-
I crown him as the magician of all languages,
He tossed cerumen, virility, and a she-goat peeing.
So I suffer from this acute metabolism,
That restricts me to imagine beyond bra-panty-
You can call me an imperfectionist and not a perfect scribe.
Since my childhood I have a knack of learning the finest form of english even though it is not my mother tongue. ‘A for apple’, ‘B for boy’, was
not sufficient for me, and I wanted to express the core of my feelings, the barest of all possible in the language. Learning any foreign language is not successful until you are entirely acquainted with the culture, so my grandpa used to imagine strange things in this part of the world and wished to express them in english. This was how he felt growing with a language. Unlike him, whatever you learn in a new language will still leave you as an imperfectionist. I love English, and I breathe English, and this one is a tribute to the discipline of the language that has inspired me over the years to compose this one.
Published 23rd Oct 2010
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23rd Oct 2010 4:59pm
english may not be your native language but you sure write as if you were born and bred there! your english is beyond perfection so is the poem!
25th Oct 2010 10:28am
24th Oct 2010 5:26pm
There's something astonishingly sincere and gentle about this, which i like a lot.
25th Oct 2010 10:27am
As I really composed this one with so much fervor and even though I was damn sincere, but I crossed my fingers as it read not so conventional. If such a valuable reader like you can grasp the genuinity behind it, the scope of the composition is hundred percent as I have intended. I am glad you found this. Keep reading me Merda.
25th Oct 2010 12:26pm
25th Oct 2010 10:36am
this is magnificent! those first two lines are beautifully crafted and the rest follows suit. great job with this, Anando! i love the bit about your grandpa as well. you create a character in a very short string of words. [:
25th Oct 2010 10:41am
Even though I have never seen him, but I have enjoyed hearing about him throughout my life from my father. He was such a great scholar and made the city proud. His approach to the language was tremendous and I dedicate this work to him. The most satisfactory thing for me is that it seems to me that I have truly succeeded in my goal. Thanks a lot:-)
15th Nov 2010 5:46pm
and i agree, native or not, you present it well. there is also beauty displayed within this because it is not your native, yet you have strived to learn it, write it, there is succes in that factor, this reads so innocent and soft..like a free flowing thought. i enjoyed
16th Nov 2010 11:36am
is one of the dearest compositions of myself. Even though I have composed it about a month ago, but the same content feeling has remained within me over the years. I am glad that I have been able to pen down my inner feelings in such a way that has been recepted very well among the literary circles. Glad to know again that you liked this piece. Thank you very much and keep reading me.
