The Whim And The Whole

I

Oh my half-baked poem!
Why do you tell stories-
Of those worm, colorful, candy days?

II

Whereas I throw myself out-
In beats and pieces
As I did in my childhood days,
Throwing plates of clay
Against the smooth surface of a pond-
To see how they turn into frogs
And create what new patterns,
Celebrating, as they say,
'motion, life, drive, diversity
Happiness and what not? '

III

I do the same throwing,
In a different way everyday now
Earlier it was a whim;
Not it is the whole!

by Raihan sharif

Comments (2)

i believe to you beside whim you got another one. real strokes are you
It appears that the writer intends this to be the first chapter in a long story of learning about life. It is a little hard to tell because the clarity is not exactly what you need for the transfer of real meaning. However, I think I understood this one, so I did give it a recommended reading score of 8. GW62