More Or Less Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

It does not matter

What I left in the pallets

Or in the aisles of whispering winds

Those colours that will not fade

When the brushes will stroke

The portrait, creaking in paint

Some vision will evolve among the empty





It will be between chances

Here and somewhat there

Like one in many places

Like Quantum, not apple falling certainly

The tree or the ground trading places

It does not matter

But that the event at some point

Happened by chance



My brush, my paint, my keys on the

Finishing touches of an idea

My soul,

Whether me or nothing

A chance, events, trivia,

Will pass as if it mattered

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