Portobello Road  /London scetchrawl

The day is a quest, the day is a wait
Here we live our stories, don our clothes, wear our scent and our unseen thoughts pass through each other –

Come failure, we’ll always lament
The silver lining of opulent riches
We couldn’t see.

Come success, we will climb the steps
And never turn back
Downtrodden, ugly past
Isn’t ours.

Only here, we are all the same
We perspire to earn, we dream to live and those intangible aspirations pass through each other –

Tonight on Dversepoets we are writing about on sketches by Claudia- for those who don’t know, she is an excellent painter too apart from being a poet. You see her Flickr page here. Join us to read some wonderful poetry on visual inspirations.

30 thoughts on “Us

  1. in a crowd such as this…all the monikers that describe us can get lost…the affluent and the poor…all together…would be nice if there was no uncomfortableness about that…and if we do find success, hopefully we do look back…

  2. I like how, on dVerse, we interact so differently than in other spheres. We do not know who is rich and who is poor, who is successful and who isn’t, only our words matter.

  3. Yes.. a city is just filled with those dreams of success – it’s like everyone we meet has this little bubble they live in. And just on occasion this little point glimmer through.. excellent thought from that crowd, and so nice to have you back online again Abhra

  4. have you been there? on portobello road? it is like you write… rich and poor.. high fashion and all-kind-of-styles to met-fowl teeth – all squished together, sharing a bit of what they are…. i loved the atmosphere and i tasted a bit of that together spirit

    • Oh! where is it? I had a feeling it looked familiar though.

      Thanks for the sketch – I had started this poem long back – and was on completed for a long time.

  5. This is one of my favorites of Claudia’s sketches, & did consider writing to it; but it has become one of the popular choices. I certainly like what you did with it, that slice of life peek into the
    crowd’s many faces, many lives. This sketch is from London, I believe.

  6. Very clear descripton! I often sit at the edge of crowds wondering of the lives of people i see–work or not, moving up, moving down, and here, not really knowing each other, the paths cross.

  7. As you join in with a crowd of people, it almost takes on an identity of its own. It’s more a collective consciousness of humanity. This is what your poem brought to my mind. Thanks for your perspective.

  8. “our unseen thoughts pass through each other.” This line stuck me strongly. Though we’re anonymous in a crowd, our thoughts still may impact the people there. How nicely you interpreted this sketch.

  9. it is amazing how easily we go unnoticed and in turn do not notice those around us…all searching and reaching for similar things…all bound to be struck down by failures and rise with success…. Lovely write.

  10. Strong poem written in an easy manner about human nature…implied struggles, dreams delayed or not ending in fruition, the reminder that death is the ultimate leveler and we all must meet our maker….a crowd is an embodiment of souls migrating…a reminder perhaps that it is what is inside that counts.

  11. I appreciate the anonymity of a diverse crowd so much. People coming, going, swarming, buying, worrying, aching… it’s all there but it goes unseen. Thanks for opening a window onto this scene; what a great write. The ending line really worked well, too. A jarring stop that leaves bits of the poem stuck in your head.

I would like to know what you think about this :

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.