They beat the dirt
Out of soiled cloths,
On enduring cement,
Slapped hard on rugged stone.
They beat the dirt,
Off scrappy jeans,
That was bought home
By playful Jimmy.
They beat dirt,
Like pulsing to secret rhythm,
Like an crude Sonata,
A symphony, maybe.
The cloths are less soiled,
The kids, less spoilt,
But who ever considered
The battered, enduring stone?
She’ll one day chip,
Surely crack or slip,
As you beat off the dirt on her,
Will weathering rock take it?
She’s tired.
Carve her, quick.
If you have to excavate her excruciatingly,
You could sculpt a masterpiece.
For else she will weather,
A weathering rock she is.
A weathering rock she is.
A weathering rock she is.
For one day when you are done washing,
And wipe the sweat off your brow,
You'll see a jagged edge or two,
Unconquered by the brutes.
And you'll howl upon the stone that was,
Suspicious of murderous intent,
And throw the stone amongst the dirt,
Or wail to immediately discard,
to keep your kids safe.
Or wash it all away.
A weathering rock she is.
A weathering rock she is.
A weathering rock she is....
The Ginkgo
A pretense of azure,
Happy summer skies,
The somber clouds do part an inch,
To allow for mischief.
They’re tremulous today,
Bent and acquiescing,
Succumbing in dignified solemnity,
But do I catch that one quivering for release?
Or this one, in crowded space,
Chocking in the emerald, thronged,
Why, the guilt, I now wonder,
Can I find me in there, somewhere?
Oh look, a ginkgo leaf hesitating like one charmed,
No webs, no venation,
Just plain and simple.
A marvel.
At last I found the leaf that was me,
Upon the sidewalk, stalling,
Like one in young love, chasing pretentious sunshine,
Into scattered shadows, and then back again.
Oh Hedwig!
When into amber eyes I looked,
Gone was I, led astray,
The world rocked and shook,
Pronouncing joyous accolades.
Lost by not pitifully so,
For I still knew my way,
Held loose, but very close,
And then, wandering there.
Oh Hedwig, oh Hedwig, I called
To that snowy owl of mine,
Myths, on wings, so alive,
To love and life, I used to cry.
For the sun shone when it was no more day,
For the letters, come what may,
Oh Hedwig, I called, take them to the happy place,
The thousand letters preciously encased.
For there is no more gloom, when here she be,
No more room for tragedy,
No more hurt, no more pain,
For this she could be, just simply an everything.
Gone was I, led astray,
The world rocked and shook,
Pronouncing joyous accolades.
Lost by not pitifully so,
For I still knew my way,
Held loose, but very close,
And then, wandering there.
Oh Hedwig, oh Hedwig, I called
To that snowy owl of mine,
Myths, on wings, so alive,
To love and life, I used to cry.
For the sun shone when it was no more day,
For the letters, come what may,
Oh Hedwig, I called, take them to the happy place,
The thousand letters preciously encased.
For there is no more gloom, when here she be,
No more room for tragedy,
No more hurt, no more pain,
For this she could be, just simply an everything.
The three good mares
The front yard housed the three good mares,
Neighing, prancing and frolicking there,
Bestowed with warmth, love and care,
They lived free, the three good mares.
The three good mares, she looked upon,
And as months rolled, and pansies sprung,
To keep them strong, healthy and young,
She served them, and spotted returning affection in all.
The first one from the south did come,
A battered but playful soul,
She knew of the horse from once before,
A forgotten song, forgiveness and more.
The other one, had grown with her to this day,
Helping her through, always being there,
She hugged the lovely animal, the color of clay,
Relishing the warmth in her one true friend.
The last was new to the shed,
But sincere, still, all the same,
So much rapturous strength,
And a lingering earnestness.
But then she feared, that they would ask,
To choose one over the other,
But then she silently prayed in her head,
That no matter what, there’d be no change.
For the front yard was a happy place,
Where all she respected and all she loved,
Stayed intact, and then preserved,
But that day, she finally chanced upon.
One hinted, one asked and the other didn’t say,
All trying to go the very same way,
But alas, it was so unfortunate,
That they had to carve their paths as separate.
What would she speak, what could she tell?
Whom did she value, above all else?
All were spirits, so delicate, all lovable,
All justifiably true to her, all more than friends.
How could she lie, how could she say,
That for each one of them, she didn’t care,
How could she be selfish, how could she play?
With their emotions, and turn some away?
And so, she didn’t know where to go,
Which path to tread, or how this would end,
Because the truth was this, there was one she loved,
Above all others, and repeatedly told, so much.
That didn’t mean this, I’ll say,
That for others she held no affection, she could swear,
By the heavens, and tell you today,
They mattered the world to her, the other mares.
But they turned upon each other and she witnessed,
Bloody battles, and with much distress,
They blamed her then, once again,
For when they turned selfish in love, they didn’t understand her hurt.
One blamed her of ignorance,
And the other of tyranny,
A little bit of distrust, unrealistic,
But she was no devil, not many secrets did she keep.
To all heads held high, imperial,
She bowed meek, with anguish, pure,
Weedy grew the front-yard,
She walked away.
The mares she cherished stood tall,
Bold, wonderful, magnificent,
If there was any truth to love, she thought,
That one would then turn back.
She wished to see who would follow,
As she trotted a reedy road,
But her wishes, she slowly swallowed,
Hobbling, burdened with her own load.
By twilight, she found her weeping willow,
A favorite from childhood, waiting for her there,
And in his branches, she was mortal no more,
Not knowing if a single mare had realized and followed….
Neighing, prancing and frolicking there,
Bestowed with warmth, love and care,
They lived free, the three good mares.
The three good mares, she looked upon,
And as months rolled, and pansies sprung,
To keep them strong, healthy and young,
She served them, and spotted returning affection in all.
The first one from the south did come,
A battered but playful soul,
She knew of the horse from once before,
A forgotten song, forgiveness and more.
The other one, had grown with her to this day,
Helping her through, always being there,
She hugged the lovely animal, the color of clay,
Relishing the warmth in her one true friend.
The last was new to the shed,
But sincere, still, all the same,
So much rapturous strength,
And a lingering earnestness.
But then she feared, that they would ask,
To choose one over the other,
But then she silently prayed in her head,
That no matter what, there’d be no change.
For the front yard was a happy place,
Where all she respected and all she loved,
Stayed intact, and then preserved,
But that day, she finally chanced upon.
One hinted, one asked and the other didn’t say,
All trying to go the very same way,
But alas, it was so unfortunate,
That they had to carve their paths as separate.
What would she speak, what could she tell?
Whom did she value, above all else?
All were spirits, so delicate, all lovable,
All justifiably true to her, all more than friends.
How could she lie, how could she say,
That for each one of them, she didn’t care,
How could she be selfish, how could she play?
With their emotions, and turn some away?
And so, she didn’t know where to go,
Which path to tread, or how this would end,
Because the truth was this, there was one she loved,
Above all others, and repeatedly told, so much.
That didn’t mean this, I’ll say,
That for others she held no affection, she could swear,
By the heavens, and tell you today,
They mattered the world to her, the other mares.
But they turned upon each other and she witnessed,
Bloody battles, and with much distress,
They blamed her then, once again,
For when they turned selfish in love, they didn’t understand her hurt.
One blamed her of ignorance,
And the other of tyranny,
A little bit of distrust, unrealistic,
But she was no devil, not many secrets did she keep.
To all heads held high, imperial,
She bowed meek, with anguish, pure,
Weedy grew the front-yard,
She walked away.
The mares she cherished stood tall,
Bold, wonderful, magnificent,
If there was any truth to love, she thought,
That one would then turn back.
She wished to see who would follow,
As she trotted a reedy road,
But her wishes, she slowly swallowed,
Hobbling, burdened with her own load.
By twilight, she found her weeping willow,
A favorite from childhood, waiting for her there,
And in his branches, she was mortal no more,
Not knowing if a single mare had realized and followed….
Sun
When to augustine skies I stare,
Mine eyes are willingly led astray,
When so constant stays the burning blaze,
How can I behold him in single gaze?
In little pools, in and around,
Are strewn sprightly blooms, and some do crowd,
Pansies nurtured and then caressed,
Bursting to a selfless touch.
Yonder upon the seven seas,
He sprinkles a shimmer I cannot see,
But I can close mine eyes and feel,
Little trinkets upon my palm he leaves.
The sun, of mysterious alchemy,
Spilling forth rubies of twilight charm,
Painted yellow at other times,
So many palettes, yet so much warmth.
When the world he does illuminate,
The febrile nights of shadow and horror find and end,
In patience, the mortals await,
To then be rewarded.
The magnitude of his influence, I cannot clasp,
And claim for mine ,nay, it shan’t be so,
For he rests in the calm of a heavenly abode,
And would burn me, if I stepped too close.
A thousand eras does he span,
Providing for thousands more, a thousand lives,
But even as equal, every one of them he regards,
The fancy trinkets glimmer now; nabbed in single fist, he may belong...
3 am. 9th of August.
Mine eyes are willingly led astray,
When so constant stays the burning blaze,
How can I behold him in single gaze?
In little pools, in and around,
Are strewn sprightly blooms, and some do crowd,
Pansies nurtured and then caressed,
Bursting to a selfless touch.
Yonder upon the seven seas,
He sprinkles a shimmer I cannot see,
But I can close mine eyes and feel,
Little trinkets upon my palm he leaves.
The sun, of mysterious alchemy,
Spilling forth rubies of twilight charm,
Painted yellow at other times,
So many palettes, yet so much warmth.
When the world he does illuminate,
The febrile nights of shadow and horror find and end,
In patience, the mortals await,
To then be rewarded.
The magnitude of his influence, I cannot clasp,
And claim for mine ,nay, it shan’t be so,
For he rests in the calm of a heavenly abode,
And would burn me, if I stepped too close.
A thousand eras does he span,
Providing for thousands more, a thousand lives,
But even as equal, every one of them he regards,
The fancy trinkets glimmer now; nabbed in single fist, he may belong...
3 am. 9th of August.
Heedless
On bare boughs, sparse leaves among,
Barren winds ran amok,
Many a tuneless ballad was sung,
As on moved a heedless heart.
Familiar like the place of birth,
Which the old nostalgically recollect,
Splendid moments, the times of yore,
Hemmed together on weather beaten paths.
The damp grandeur of monsoon calling forth
An exuberant cherub in consciousness encased,
Simple dreams and a simple lore,
Of a simpler love, even more.
Wasted scores weary violins play,
Starry nights, overshadowed,
Oppressed as in the unappreciable heat of May,
Useless as glorious souvenirs, showcased.
Aha, but wondrous opportunities does a derived wisdom profess,
Happiness in the hinterlands,
Surviving blooms on virginal snow,
Sanity to the confounded.
On reviving nectar, a greedy infant feeds,
On radiant a face lingers smile, puerile,
Skipping past to the sweeter childhood days, cradled
By the ones she holds dear but heedless, otherwise.
Here be joy, here be contentment,
Spring from wintry boughs do sprout,
Daffodils of liquid gold on rolling pastures spread,
Stolen peace exultantly does pervade,
Sinister cobwebs wisped away by sunshine, light-hearted
Merry innocence romps ahead,
Heedless now and unaware.
3:48 am, 31st of July.
Barren winds ran amok,
Many a tuneless ballad was sung,
As on moved a heedless heart.
Familiar like the place of birth,
Which the old nostalgically recollect,
Splendid moments, the times of yore,
Hemmed together on weather beaten paths.
The damp grandeur of monsoon calling forth
An exuberant cherub in consciousness encased,
Simple dreams and a simple lore,
Of a simpler love, even more.
Wasted scores weary violins play,
Starry nights, overshadowed,
Oppressed as in the unappreciable heat of May,
Useless as glorious souvenirs, showcased.
Aha, but wondrous opportunities does a derived wisdom profess,
Happiness in the hinterlands,
Surviving blooms on virginal snow,
Sanity to the confounded.
On reviving nectar, a greedy infant feeds,
On radiant a face lingers smile, puerile,
Skipping past to the sweeter childhood days, cradled
By the ones she holds dear but heedless, otherwise.
Here be joy, here be contentment,
Spring from wintry boughs do sprout,
Daffodils of liquid gold on rolling pastures spread,
Stolen peace exultantly does pervade,
Sinister cobwebs wisped away by sunshine, light-hearted
Merry innocence romps ahead,
Heedless now and unaware.
3:48 am, 31st of July.
Grateful
Together they strum, like men to paddle, co-ordinated, unbroken,
Like beads, threaded together, taut strings, stretched,
Fresh binding off the printing press,
Fluid enchantment that the waves possess.
The times of the orange sun and monsoon rain,
The seasons pass, swift in change,
Murky clouds of listless days,
Hang morose over sheltered bays.
A split, a break, an enormous crack,
Through shallow months, resounding back,
In exactness they wickedly invoke,
Insecurity in rooted silver oak.
A powerless surrender, scribbled in good faith,
In destiny’s grand book, on a very last page,
Confessions, sincere, even faithful frankness,
Didn’t bring home sympathetic reply, dutifully expected.
Harrowed, unstable, a gradual wither,
Venom to vein, a clever slither,
Fanged apparition flying here,
Tumbling in general disarray, vague yet clear.
Inquiry finding no retort,
No words, and no rewards,
Endurance tested and patience stabbed,
Finally to another flies burdened voice.
Threatening to flood, to overwhelm,
Is a baffling insanity, a cold dread,
But intelligent is beaver, a dam he builds,
A sanctuary of protected happiness, from nothing.
He pulls at painful debris, useless before,
Pads it together with expert skill, stability restores,
Doing kindness, in soft words and treats,
Mended is spirit, more than slightly.
Thankful eyes skim thrice,
At messages, multiple, saintly wise,
Searching eyes swallowed by raven night,
Meet compassion's gaze....... and beautifully cry.
Insomnia at 4:41 am.
July 8th.
Like beads, threaded together, taut strings, stretched,
Fresh binding off the printing press,
Fluid enchantment that the waves possess.
The times of the orange sun and monsoon rain,
The seasons pass, swift in change,
Murky clouds of listless days,
Hang morose over sheltered bays.
A split, a break, an enormous crack,
Through shallow months, resounding back,
In exactness they wickedly invoke,
Insecurity in rooted silver oak.
A powerless surrender, scribbled in good faith,
In destiny’s grand book, on a very last page,
Confessions, sincere, even faithful frankness,
Didn’t bring home sympathetic reply, dutifully expected.
Harrowed, unstable, a gradual wither,
Venom to vein, a clever slither,
Fanged apparition flying here,
Tumbling in general disarray, vague yet clear.
Inquiry finding no retort,
No words, and no rewards,
Endurance tested and patience stabbed,
Finally to another flies burdened voice.
Threatening to flood, to overwhelm,
Is a baffling insanity, a cold dread,
But intelligent is beaver, a dam he builds,
A sanctuary of protected happiness, from nothing.
He pulls at painful debris, useless before,
Pads it together with expert skill, stability restores,
Doing kindness, in soft words and treats,
Mended is spirit, more than slightly.
Thankful eyes skim thrice,
At messages, multiple, saintly wise,
Searching eyes swallowed by raven night,
Meet compassion's gaze....... and beautifully cry.
Insomnia at 4:41 am.
July 8th.
With you, I am me.
When integrity questions, lies hide,
A coward’s mistakes, unfairly,
But to you, there is beautiful truth,
With you, I am me.
When grief swallows, in whirlpool of thought,
A bold pretense of happiness I play,
But on your shoulder, that weakness is crying,
With you, I am me.
To everybody, I try to make sense,
Such respectful dignity in speech,
But I lose all that, unbelievably,
With you, I am me.
False notions, and empty pride,
Gloating gossip and some more wine,
But you deem that unnecessary,
With you, I am me.
To distant friends, when i speak,
Concealed is all insecurity,
But I tell you, nice and neat,
With you, I am me.
They know me not, so they think,
She’s such a vulnerable, shaky thing,
But you know how my playful moods charge and swing,
With you, I am me.
I tell them stories, I justify,
Actions, and appear so polite,
But you’re aware of my goofy side,
With you, I am me.
Draped in thought, I cannot see,
When stress builds up, I suffer and writhe,
But like hot cocoa, you restore warmth,
With you, I am me.
Careless, uncouth and senseless,
Big-mouthed, genuine, funny,
Affectionate, unconfined, fearless,
With you, I am me.
The Midnight of 28th.
A coward’s mistakes, unfairly,
But to you, there is beautiful truth,
With you, I am me.
When grief swallows, in whirlpool of thought,
A bold pretense of happiness I play,
But on your shoulder, that weakness is crying,
With you, I am me.
To everybody, I try to make sense,
Such respectful dignity in speech,
But I lose all that, unbelievably,
With you, I am me.
False notions, and empty pride,
Gloating gossip and some more wine,
But you deem that unnecessary,
With you, I am me.
To distant friends, when i speak,
Concealed is all insecurity,
But I tell you, nice and neat,
With you, I am me.
They know me not, so they think,
She’s such a vulnerable, shaky thing,
But you know how my playful moods charge and swing,
With you, I am me.
I tell them stories, I justify,
Actions, and appear so polite,
But you’re aware of my goofy side,
With you, I am me.
Draped in thought, I cannot see,
When stress builds up, I suffer and writhe,
But like hot cocoa, you restore warmth,
With you, I am me.
Careless, uncouth and senseless,
Big-mouthed, genuine, funny,
Affectionate, unconfined, fearless,
With you, I am me.
The Midnight of 28th.
Stolen
Stolen from deep repose,
Happily depraved vision gazes,
At midnight charm though cold panes,
And at young love, through ancient casement.
For tis is pleasantly uncommon, the cheetah stealth,
Which hunts a willing prey,
With erratic grandeur,
Disturbing the stillness.
For in this surreptitious watch,
There is no reason,
Lost meaning shares no ground,
With wicked infatuation’s untimely construction.
For she now remembers,
How his laughter rescued,
Unbelievably herself with him,
She is not afraid to be who she is.
For when they tried, and when they failed,
It had stung deep, but then again,
Age is sly, so allow her to teach,
Don’t be victim, to inconsistency.
Aha, she is well aware, responsible is the intellect,
But midnight dreams firmly discard,
Anything that the rationale had sought.
The warm night holds her in embrace,
Crafting another impossibility,
He tempts a stupid heart, and a chortle escapes,
Before beauty sleeps, forgetting reverie….
Midnight.
Happily depraved vision gazes,
At midnight charm though cold panes,
And at young love, through ancient casement.
For tis is pleasantly uncommon, the cheetah stealth,
Which hunts a willing prey,
With erratic grandeur,
Disturbing the stillness.
For in this surreptitious watch,
There is no reason,
Lost meaning shares no ground,
With wicked infatuation’s untimely construction.
For she now remembers,
How his laughter rescued,
Unbelievably herself with him,
She is not afraid to be who she is.
For when they tried, and when they failed,
It had stung deep, but then again,
Age is sly, so allow her to teach,
Don’t be victim, to inconsistency.
Aha, she is well aware, responsible is the intellect,
But midnight dreams firmly discard,
Anything that the rationale had sought.
The warm night holds her in embrace,
Crafting another impossibility,
He tempts a stupid heart, and a chortle escapes,
Before beauty sleeps, forgetting reverie….
Midnight.
Untamed
Should I tame thought,
Which winds about,
Within my head, without
Restrain on things of that sort?
When possibility tempts,
Refreshing, new,
Bind them in iron shackles,
Bowing to eclectic wisdom, Cruel.
Untamed, it presents delicious chimera,
Irresistibly haunting,
Fond, delicate, pleasing.
And then, extinguished.
Mellow, casual, still,
Just the way it was meant to be,
But when untamed,
Distorted is reality.
Unforeseen,
A searing scar from a while past,
Healed, in unexpected manner.
The heal, a reiki,
Splendid intoxication, cleansing,
Forgetting, slipping, slackening,
But tenderly retaining.
But when untamed thought prances,
In convoluted lawns of a philosopher’s mind,
Playing with the heartstrings,
explodes such vital energy!!!
Tame thy thought, dear, tame her now,
The wild horse in you, the spirited one,
Says the voice of experience, so understanding,
But will the naughty mare, ever lend an ear?
midnight.
Which winds about,
Within my head, without
Restrain on things of that sort?
When possibility tempts,
Refreshing, new,
Bind them in iron shackles,
Bowing to eclectic wisdom, Cruel.
Untamed, it presents delicious chimera,
Irresistibly haunting,
Fond, delicate, pleasing.
And then, extinguished.
Mellow, casual, still,
Just the way it was meant to be,
But when untamed,
Distorted is reality.
Unforeseen,
A searing scar from a while past,
Healed, in unexpected manner.
The heal, a reiki,
Splendid intoxication, cleansing,
Forgetting, slipping, slackening,
But tenderly retaining.
But when untamed thought prances,
In convoluted lawns of a philosopher’s mind,
Playing with the heartstrings,
explodes such vital energy!!!
Tame thy thought, dear, tame her now,
The wild horse in you, the spirited one,
Says the voice of experience, so understanding,
But will the naughty mare, ever lend an ear?
midnight.
Like Soft Cotton
Like Soft cotton, shredded,
Fabric, weather-beaten, careless,
Still very responsible somewhere, I suspect.
A little child, innocent at heart,
Tremulous to trivial circumstance,
Feeling, richly vivid, protected,
Behind humor, effortless.
Growing up, ever so slow,
Bearing the brunt, nudging,
The other one,
Sharing, only a little, but your stories are so tall.
Clutching the reins, is able an hand,
Every debacle, every roadbreak,dealt
With, so straight-forward, so level,
Balanced, poised for perfection.
Systematic disciplinarian,
Other times, so jovial,
Sentences compete.
Such a thinker, seldom seen.
Into the quilt, a new fabric has been stitched,
The one that was shredded, a new personality,
Honest precision to the needle, it is working,
To stitch into the fabric of life, to fit in.
Torn apart,
From fabric, from consciousness,
A bit of quilt, lost,
Missing,
but stitched back in.......
11:43 pm, 27th May, 2010.
Fabric, weather-beaten, careless,
Still very responsible somewhere, I suspect.
A little child, innocent at heart,
Tremulous to trivial circumstance,
Feeling, richly vivid, protected,
Behind humor, effortless.
Growing up, ever so slow,
Bearing the brunt, nudging,
The other one,
Sharing, only a little, but your stories are so tall.
Clutching the reins, is able an hand,
Every debacle, every roadbreak,dealt
With, so straight-forward, so level,
Balanced, poised for perfection.
Systematic disciplinarian,
Other times, so jovial,
Sentences compete.
Such a thinker, seldom seen.
Into the quilt, a new fabric has been stitched,
The one that was shredded, a new personality,
Honest precision to the needle, it is working,
To stitch into the fabric of life, to fit in.
Torn apart,
From fabric, from consciousness,
A bit of quilt, lost,
Missing,
but stitched back in.......
11:43 pm, 27th May, 2010.
Transience
A flutter, a glimmer, invisible,
Ephemeral, fleeting, passing,
Returning, swiveling,
Within, stealthily bubbling up to the parched throat,
Coaxed down, and then gone.
Movement, of the fluid kinds,
Tremulous, excited, vibrating….
Pretentious, difficult—extremely.
Indecisive, the transience, watching from distance,
Bucketed in some corner, hoping to be forgotten,
Reminding, it flies back, a violent trigger,
Turning obsessive, succumbing.
Concealed, tenderly wrapped,
In tendrils of thought, thoughtless,
Gentle, mellow, pleasantly benevolent,
Is the gripping enchantment of the Transience.
A new horizon, sanctuary,
Discovered, and preserved,
Oasis, of impossible possibility,
A mild stupor.
Poaching, Baiting, targeting,
Without purpose, sense or maturity,
Building up on all the nonsense,
To oneself, smiling.
Sleep-starved eyes, looking to the hills,
Where the deer prance about,
Illuminated, the beautiful meadow,
To developing transience, is home.
It has to go, find another soul,
When this one, outgrows,
When understanding uncomfortably dawns,
It shall evaporate, the Transience.
Flirting with emotion, connecting and disconnecting,
Bumbling along, dancing a trifle,
To music, that only you can hear,
Because it's melodies are invisible.....
Ageing, the transience shall fade,
Leaking,…but until it lasts,
Soul shall thrill to what is trivial,
And shall miss it, when it’s gone.
Open your eye, taste the flavor,
Understand—or don’t.
Let it be, let it go,
Clarity might dawn to sweet incoherence......
10:07 p.m. 25th may 2010.
Ephemeral, fleeting, passing,
Returning, swiveling,
Within, stealthily bubbling up to the parched throat,
Coaxed down, and then gone.
Movement, of the fluid kinds,
Tremulous, excited, vibrating….
Pretentious, difficult—extremely.
Indecisive, the transience, watching from distance,
Bucketed in some corner, hoping to be forgotten,
Reminding, it flies back, a violent trigger,
Turning obsessive, succumbing.
Concealed, tenderly wrapped,
In tendrils of thought, thoughtless,
Gentle, mellow, pleasantly benevolent,
Is the gripping enchantment of the Transience.
A new horizon, sanctuary,
Discovered, and preserved,
Oasis, of impossible possibility,
A mild stupor.
Poaching, Baiting, targeting,
Without purpose, sense or maturity,
Building up on all the nonsense,
To oneself, smiling.
Sleep-starved eyes, looking to the hills,
Where the deer prance about,
Illuminated, the beautiful meadow,
To developing transience, is home.
It has to go, find another soul,
When this one, outgrows,
When understanding uncomfortably dawns,
It shall evaporate, the Transience.
Flirting with emotion, connecting and disconnecting,
Bumbling along, dancing a trifle,
To music, that only you can hear,
Because it's melodies are invisible.....
Ageing, the transience shall fade,
Leaking,…but until it lasts,
Soul shall thrill to what is trivial,
And shall miss it, when it’s gone.
Open your eye, taste the flavor,
Understand—or don’t.
Let it be, let it go,
Clarity might dawn to sweet incoherence......
10:07 p.m. 25th may 2010.
Blessed
(Specially dedicated to Anusha Prakash and Vibha Prakash)
When life shuts the doors of opportunity,
I feel disappointment welling,
But maybe it’s just my selfishness prying,
At doors that aren’t opening.
I stand by the heavy doors, questioning
The mute walls that don’t even answer,
I try with all my might,
So that I might catch the sun, at least a faint glimmer.
When failures confront, I shake with fear,
But today I remembered, that my sisters are near,
When they’re there to keep me afloat, nothing can go wrong,
When the soul is burdened, they shall lend an ear, and a helping hand.
Thank you, Poetess, for the little song you wrote for me,
It’s full of love, such warmth and makes me believe,
That paradise exists right here—in our own silent cocoon,
When your innocent smile warms my heart, it feels like there are no tomorrows.
Tis the truth, m’dear, it’s not the riches, bountiful, that bring happiness,
Nor erase the crippling pains of having to persist—it is but the compassion,
And the love that overflows,
That dissolves every growing sorrow.
When my sister is here, singing her song,
I feel like simply humming along,
As poetry mingles with gratefulness,
Emotion and pen play a small game.
Thank you, for making life beautiful,
For showing me the rainbow, for teaching me how to find,
Silver-linings behind every murky cloud,
Thank you,
For silver lining my soul.
As long as the writings fingers continue to scribble,
We shall remain sisters, forever.
United by more the a mere love for the language,
Today, in quiet satisfaction, I realize I’m so blessed, to have you both.
I promise to always strive to make you feel,
Like happiness was your claim,
You shan't shed a single tear,
When I'm your umberella.
Just the way you shelter me,
From the wrath of a merciless world,
I shall always stand by you,
The bond shan't sever.
Thank you, with all my heart, for clearing the way,
for someone who never saw a path, who thought it was never there.
Thank you, poetess.
1 am.
When life shuts the doors of opportunity,
I feel disappointment welling,
But maybe it’s just my selfishness prying,
At doors that aren’t opening.
I stand by the heavy doors, questioning
The mute walls that don’t even answer,
I try with all my might,
So that I might catch the sun, at least a faint glimmer.
When failures confront, I shake with fear,
But today I remembered, that my sisters are near,
When they’re there to keep me afloat, nothing can go wrong,
When the soul is burdened, they shall lend an ear, and a helping hand.
Thank you, Poetess, for the little song you wrote for me,
It’s full of love, such warmth and makes me believe,
That paradise exists right here—in our own silent cocoon,
When your innocent smile warms my heart, it feels like there are no tomorrows.
Tis the truth, m’dear, it’s not the riches, bountiful, that bring happiness,
Nor erase the crippling pains of having to persist—it is but the compassion,
And the love that overflows,
That dissolves every growing sorrow.
When my sister is here, singing her song,
I feel like simply humming along,
As poetry mingles with gratefulness,
Emotion and pen play a small game.
Thank you, for making life beautiful,
For showing me the rainbow, for teaching me how to find,
Silver-linings behind every murky cloud,
Thank you,
For silver lining my soul.
As long as the writings fingers continue to scribble,
We shall remain sisters, forever.
United by more the a mere love for the language,
Today, in quiet satisfaction, I realize I’m so blessed, to have you both.
I promise to always strive to make you feel,
Like happiness was your claim,
You shan't shed a single tear,
When I'm your umberella.
Just the way you shelter me,
From the wrath of a merciless world,
I shall always stand by you,
The bond shan't sever.
Thank you, with all my heart, for clearing the way,
for someone who never saw a path, who thought it was never there.
Thank you, poetess.
1 am.
Brick Wall
Enchantress conjured a city of dreams,
But Playful madman built a brick wall,
Barricaded, caught in the in-between,
Robbed is she of power, raw.
Prying at closed doors, a toy to his cruel mischief,
Lost here and there again,
Unknowing, terrorized, uncertain.
Mammoth efforts and cat-and-mouse....
Reaching pleading, trying,
Fatigued, alone and distraught,
It creeps steady, builds and consumes,
Disappointment, pure.
Awaiting that wave of clarity,
That can solve the ciphers that bite at the rational brain,
Over-working, challenging and dominating,
The neurotic soul shakes.
The same questions repeating,
Asking why it’s costing so much,
When there is honesty to effort,
Why can’t the brick wall dissolve?
Enchantress built a city of dreams,
But it’s on the other side,
Madman laughs in triumph,
She is deaf, to find the door, she blindly tries.
Pushed to solid wall,
Effort is singular, inevitable,
Waxing and waning, oscillating,
Hope, trickling.
As long as endurance to sprit exists, it shall crumble madman's prophecy,
Sunshine shall one day seep,
Ernest eyes wait to witness
A silent metamorphosis.
But Playful madman built a brick wall,
Barricaded, caught in the in-between,
Robbed is she of power, raw.
Prying at closed doors, a toy to his cruel mischief,
Lost here and there again,
Unknowing, terrorized, uncertain.
Mammoth efforts and cat-and-mouse....
Reaching pleading, trying,
Fatigued, alone and distraught,
It creeps steady, builds and consumes,
Disappointment, pure.
Awaiting that wave of clarity,
That can solve the ciphers that bite at the rational brain,
Over-working, challenging and dominating,
The neurotic soul shakes.
The same questions repeating,
Asking why it’s costing so much,
When there is honesty to effort,
Why can’t the brick wall dissolve?
Enchantress built a city of dreams,
But it’s on the other side,
Madman laughs in triumph,
She is deaf, to find the door, she blindly tries.
Pushed to solid wall,
Effort is singular, inevitable,
Waxing and waning, oscillating,
Hope, trickling.
As long as endurance to sprit exists, it shall crumble madman's prophecy,
Sunshine shall one day seep,
Ernest eyes wait to witness
A silent metamorphosis.
Nameless Lament
The past is the quagmire, sunken and deep,
And the future is curtained, shaky and steep,
On journeys we embark, sometimes reluctantly,
We come back, but sometimes we leave.
And what remains of the past becomes history,
Preserved in the bigger books, in the annals of memory,
Fragmenting in silence, buried beneath,
Are stories of the reminiscing heart, extraordinary.
Fluid they are, within the unconscious realm,
Many such emotions, new and nameless,
I don’t chase them; I don’t want them there,
Because it’s hard to even care.
The writing pen knows no cold neglect,
Even if the hand that holds the pen shakes,
You have rendered her fatigued spirit dormant,
Aha, but look, the light of life still persists!
It’s easy to forget, is it not?
And to gallantly walk about all of town,
Telling your stories in a vibrant fashion,
With photographs, pictures, and crumbling emotion?
It is simple, isn’t it, to uncomplicated life?
To let it go, and not even cry?
To wipe away the bad memories, and to fly the kite,
Saying all is well, deluding the battered mind?
I wish I was as good an illusionist as you,
I wish I could have been as quick, and not really blue,
I’m wondering why I’m taking time to absorb,
The truths and leave some things behind.
Her picture must be pretty, I know it must,
She’s a really sweet charming girl,
Undeniably, you must have held your head high,
When you were right there by the stage, being the ogling spy.
Oh no, this is not another compliant,
I don’t govern other’s lives, nor do I wish to repent,
My actions were justified, don’t you think?
As much as yours has been.
Aha, journeys are bittersweet,
And when I’m done here, when it’s time to leave,
I’ll say my goodbye as a friend,
Even if you don’t consider me one, know that I care.
And the future is curtained, shaky and steep,
On journeys we embark, sometimes reluctantly,
We come back, but sometimes we leave.
And what remains of the past becomes history,
Preserved in the bigger books, in the annals of memory,
Fragmenting in silence, buried beneath,
Are stories of the reminiscing heart, extraordinary.
Fluid they are, within the unconscious realm,
Many such emotions, new and nameless,
I don’t chase them; I don’t want them there,
Because it’s hard to even care.
The writing pen knows no cold neglect,
Even if the hand that holds the pen shakes,
You have rendered her fatigued spirit dormant,
Aha, but look, the light of life still persists!
It’s easy to forget, is it not?
And to gallantly walk about all of town,
Telling your stories in a vibrant fashion,
With photographs, pictures, and crumbling emotion?
It is simple, isn’t it, to uncomplicated life?
To let it go, and not even cry?
To wipe away the bad memories, and to fly the kite,
Saying all is well, deluding the battered mind?
I wish I was as good an illusionist as you,
I wish I could have been as quick, and not really blue,
I’m wondering why I’m taking time to absorb,
The truths and leave some things behind.
Her picture must be pretty, I know it must,
She’s a really sweet charming girl,
Undeniably, you must have held your head high,
When you were right there by the stage, being the ogling spy.
Oh no, this is not another compliant,
I don’t govern other’s lives, nor do I wish to repent,
My actions were justified, don’t you think?
As much as yours has been.
Aha, journeys are bittersweet,
And when I’m done here, when it’s time to leave,
I’ll say my goodbye as a friend,
Even if you don’t consider me one, know that I care.
Not human?
You ask me if I’m human,
Like you’ve always had a doubt,
You’re unsure and so uncertain,
Always in the dark.
So, I answer you today girl, but small is my voice,
Yes, I can be human, I can always try.
You are just so unknowing, but question integrity,
They are not small questions, but they do something to me.
If a war is what is demanded, I would like to quit,
Even before it started, and take the path, unlit….
So do remember, I’ll do whatever you ask of me,
Because, at heart, I’m human, even if you don’t believe!
Well, maybe if I just show you, will you forgive?
We don’t need a war, there’s no such need to grieve.
So cast your doubts aside, friend, don’t yell at me,
We could be ourselves, and just so carefree,
I don’t wanna start battles, so humane I will be,
I’ll keep my promise, and support humanity.
I’m not so horrible; I don’t wish to cheat,
I’m no fiend; I don’t wanna be a thief.
Please don’t accuse, there is no justice to that,
Anger can’t subdue what is already lost.
You don’t know the entire picture, is there justice to your blame?
We all need to be even, but is this, fair play?
I’m your friend, have always been, now how could you forget?
Don’t let this break apart, because I’ve always been a friend….
You ask me if I’m human,
Like you’ve always had a doubt,
You’re unsure and so uncertain,
Always in the dark….
Don’t be, I ask you, come into the sun,
Because there is warmth on this side, and yes, I am human inside….
Like you’ve always had a doubt,
You’re unsure and so uncertain,
Always in the dark.
So, I answer you today girl, but small is my voice,
Yes, I can be human, I can always try.
You are just so unknowing, but question integrity,
They are not small questions, but they do something to me.
If a war is what is demanded, I would like to quit,
Even before it started, and take the path, unlit….
So do remember, I’ll do whatever you ask of me,
Because, at heart, I’m human, even if you don’t believe!
Well, maybe if I just show you, will you forgive?
We don’t need a war, there’s no such need to grieve.
So cast your doubts aside, friend, don’t yell at me,
We could be ourselves, and just so carefree,
I don’t wanna start battles, so humane I will be,
I’ll keep my promise, and support humanity.
I’m not so horrible; I don’t wish to cheat,
I’m no fiend; I don’t wanna be a thief.
Please don’t accuse, there is no justice to that,
Anger can’t subdue what is already lost.
You don’t know the entire picture, is there justice to your blame?
We all need to be even, but is this, fair play?
I’m your friend, have always been, now how could you forget?
Don’t let this break apart, because I’ve always been a friend….
You ask me if I’m human,
Like you’ve always had a doubt,
You’re unsure and so uncertain,
Always in the dark….
Don’t be, I ask you, come into the sun,
Because there is warmth on this side, and yes, I am human inside….
To Sister
When misery to you, life does lend,
When everything is drowned in irrelavance,
Pointless things that stretch beyond,
Just lay back and sing my song.
Sing this one, the one i sang,
For you, at 2:10 am,
Sing this one, hold my hand,
All shall be well again.
They might be stupid, might not have a clue,
about how we feel when we're so blue,
How we feel, when we are labelled,
as misfits, or arrogant rebels.
Leave the morons behind, along with the reasons,
Leave it all behind, depend on intution,
Know that there is a big sister somewhere,
Who cares for you, come what may.
There is somebody, m'dear, who always believes,
that you are special as special could be,
there is somebody here who cares,
Hold my hand, don't be scared.
When we're growing up, along the way,
many thorns, find we may,
As experiences grow, so do we,
We become stronger, before we leave.
Leave the jerks behind, and may the morons weep,
ignite the magic, peacefully sleep,
look to the stars, and share the passion,
May the unrest be forgotten.
I would just like to say that i care,
Care enough to write you a poem when its so late.
I want my little angel to smile,
Because we're sisters, when situations are dire. :) :)
Love ya, sis!!!!
This is dedicated especialy to you!!!! :)
muahhh!!!
take care, sweetheart!!!
forever and always,
lakshmi bharadwaj
a poem from the riddling songbird.
2:16 a,m
feb 20th 2010.
When everything is drowned in irrelavance,
Pointless things that stretch beyond,
Just lay back and sing my song.
Sing this one, the one i sang,
For you, at 2:10 am,
Sing this one, hold my hand,
All shall be well again.
They might be stupid, might not have a clue,
about how we feel when we're so blue,
How we feel, when we are labelled,
as misfits, or arrogant rebels.
Leave the morons behind, along with the reasons,
Leave it all behind, depend on intution,
Know that there is a big sister somewhere,
Who cares for you, come what may.
There is somebody, m'dear, who always believes,
that you are special as special could be,
there is somebody here who cares,
Hold my hand, don't be scared.
When we're growing up, along the way,
many thorns, find we may,
As experiences grow, so do we,
We become stronger, before we leave.
Leave the jerks behind, and may the morons weep,
ignite the magic, peacefully sleep,
look to the stars, and share the passion,
May the unrest be forgotten.
I would just like to say that i care,
Care enough to write you a poem when its so late.
I want my little angel to smile,
Because we're sisters, when situations are dire. :) :)
Love ya, sis!!!!
This is dedicated especialy to you!!!! :)
muahhh!!!
take care, sweetheart!!!
forever and always,
lakshmi bharadwaj
a poem from the riddling songbird.
2:16 a,m
feb 20th 2010.
Sisterhood
Before time, of mystic brotherhoods they bespoke,
Praised by storytelling tongue and splendid folklore,
Fraternities that in royal blood swore,
And parliaments that crumbled, afore….
Parties that shook the unsettled world,
Communities united by cunning fervor,
Screaming their passion in single voice,
Melded is spirit with minds alike.
When human souls, similarity seek,
For their cause, strong or meek,
Thought and emotion shall coalesce,
And you shall be welcomed when philosophy you embrace.
Organizations parties and study groups,
Assemblies parliaments and brotherhoods,
Communities, friends and clubs,
What about the ones who foster a love for the written word?
There are those who summon the magic in meaning,
With their pen and wit, conjuring,
Who know that imagination is limitless like the loving words,
Turning mischievous on rhyming fingers.
Talent needs space, as does passion,
And for the poets, it is the words that enliven,
When the mind’s eye is creative, into poetess you turn,
And as with interest you start to weave, stories you shall churn.
It’s Braille to the world m’dear, but I know you can feel,
It grows in your heart, pulsing within,
And as it invades your soul, poetic instinct revives,
And words shall return to quickly describe.
And to those who see a little beyond,
Those who sense the beauty in clever metaphor,
Deserve a pedestal to showcase,
And stand united as masterpieces they paint.
So the songbird thought of a sisterhood,
So that the incredible poets it might include,
Those poetesses who’re just emerging,
The songbird’s pen shall humbly nudge, encouraging.
The sisterhood doesn’t merely end in words,
It begins a journey, it shall alter,
The best of poets, faithful friends and true sisters,
It shall affiliate the most zestful writers.
So may passion ink you quill,
We shall unite, strong-willed,
Allied in much more ways than just words,
Certes, I declare, we are sisters.
We’ll do much more than just write,
We’ll talk to each other, we’ll unite,
Connected in ways more than one,
True sisters, we shall become.
When life gives you thorns, and you’re in trouble,
We shall fight it with you together,
When misery plagues and depression bothers,
We will stay back to listen.
The sisterhood is symbiotic at the basic level,
It knows loyalty, faith and it shall persevere
It never leaves a sister feeling morbid;
it shall find a way for you, in all good cheer.
The sisterhood is your extended family,
Of those who see a similarity,
Those who celebrate with you, those who recognize,
The strength in your skill, through poetic eyes.
The riddling songbird welcomes all,
The poetesses, sisters and friends it calls
Wanting to give a deserving platform,
To poets who would like to blog.
The sisterhood shall gather talent,
It shall be the most exotic blend,
Of the next generation of wonderful poets,
And all those who want to critique and appreciate.
So I extend a warm invitation,
To all those who wish to awaken,
Their poetic skills, no matter how dormant or amateur,
You just have to try—that’s all that matters.
And you don’t have to be a poetess to be a sister,
You just should be a loving friend and a patient listener,
Somebody who can relate to us, and stick together.
Somebody who wishes to join the league and adhere.
And I promise you that something shall blossom,
Yes, this shall be so awesome,
We might be different by our fundamental nature,
But we are sisters, now and forever.
So may creativity spurt, may talent find a voice,
May the words speak, may we rejoice,
Turn to your writing pen, turn poetess,
Teach, guide, share, help and liberate.
Praised by storytelling tongue and splendid folklore,
Fraternities that in royal blood swore,
And parliaments that crumbled, afore….
Parties that shook the unsettled world,
Communities united by cunning fervor,
Screaming their passion in single voice,
Melded is spirit with minds alike.
When human souls, similarity seek,
For their cause, strong or meek,
Thought and emotion shall coalesce,
And you shall be welcomed when philosophy you embrace.
Organizations parties and study groups,
Assemblies parliaments and brotherhoods,
Communities, friends and clubs,
What about the ones who foster a love for the written word?
There are those who summon the magic in meaning,
With their pen and wit, conjuring,
Who know that imagination is limitless like the loving words,
Turning mischievous on rhyming fingers.
Talent needs space, as does passion,
And for the poets, it is the words that enliven,
When the mind’s eye is creative, into poetess you turn,
And as with interest you start to weave, stories you shall churn.
It’s Braille to the world m’dear, but I know you can feel,
It grows in your heart, pulsing within,
And as it invades your soul, poetic instinct revives,
And words shall return to quickly describe.
And to those who see a little beyond,
Those who sense the beauty in clever metaphor,
Deserve a pedestal to showcase,
And stand united as masterpieces they paint.
So the songbird thought of a sisterhood,
So that the incredible poets it might include,
Those poetesses who’re just emerging,
The songbird’s pen shall humbly nudge, encouraging.
The sisterhood doesn’t merely end in words,
It begins a journey, it shall alter,
The best of poets, faithful friends and true sisters,
It shall affiliate the most zestful writers.
So may passion ink you quill,
We shall unite, strong-willed,
Allied in much more ways than just words,
Certes, I declare, we are sisters.
We’ll do much more than just write,
We’ll talk to each other, we’ll unite,
Connected in ways more than one,
True sisters, we shall become.
When life gives you thorns, and you’re in trouble,
We shall fight it with you together,
When misery plagues and depression bothers,
We will stay back to listen.
The sisterhood is symbiotic at the basic level,
It knows loyalty, faith and it shall persevere
It never leaves a sister feeling morbid;
it shall find a way for you, in all good cheer.
The sisterhood is your extended family,
Of those who see a similarity,
Those who celebrate with you, those who recognize,
The strength in your skill, through poetic eyes.
The riddling songbird welcomes all,
The poetesses, sisters and friends it calls
Wanting to give a deserving platform,
To poets who would like to blog.
The sisterhood shall gather talent,
It shall be the most exotic blend,
Of the next generation of wonderful poets,
And all those who want to critique and appreciate.
So I extend a warm invitation,
To all those who wish to awaken,
Their poetic skills, no matter how dormant or amateur,
You just have to try—that’s all that matters.
And you don’t have to be a poetess to be a sister,
You just should be a loving friend and a patient listener,
Somebody who can relate to us, and stick together.
Somebody who wishes to join the league and adhere.
And I promise you that something shall blossom,
Yes, this shall be so awesome,
We might be different by our fundamental nature,
But we are sisters, now and forever.
So may creativity spurt, may talent find a voice,
May the words speak, may we rejoice,
Turn to your writing pen, turn poetess,
Teach, guide, share, help and liberate.
Me
Not the best that there is, not the most beautiful,
Not the most popular, not anybody cool,
No epic achievements, nothing more to claim
I’m just me; I’ll always be the same.
The same Lakshmi who cowered in the first bench with nowhere else to go,
The same old girl who saw people march past and felt that she was slow,
They raced her in everything and she often felt so low,
They asked her to move with the herd but she had constantly said no.
Sometimes I act a kid, I can be immature,
I’m still growing up; I’m edgy and unsure,
But above all, be patient please; know that I’m learning,
I’m nobody perfect although I'm always trying.
I’m still that simple girl who watches the world whirl past,
Who escapes into childhood when her cause feels lost,
Sometimes it’s just so hard, you know, just so hard,
To be dainty and proper, I’ve dealt all my cards.
I can be self-obsessed, I can lash back,
I can start talking nonsense, I can lose track,
I can be impulsive, I can forget why I’m here,
Life can feel complicated, it can be unclear.
Yes, I still slide down the banisters, giggle and laugh out loud,
Yes I don’t like to pretend to be who I’m not,
Yes I still bike when it’s raining outside,
And drench my heart out and allow the sorrow to sublime.
If you call that uncivilized, you can label me a lunatic,
But I’ll always continue to wear my heart on my sleeve,
Its plain nice to be honest, I’ve found that to be intuitive,
I feel I’m cheating myself if I disbelieve.
I don’t hide behind dusty doors, sorry I don’t conceal
Happiness I gladly show, and friendships I don’t seal,
I can be passionate, I write like no one reads,
Because expression is the soul of all songs, I write what I feel.
All my songs aren’t great, nor are they all the same,
Some of them are simple, and some of them are lame,
Some of them are meaningless, they don’t convey,
Just like I’m unpretentious, and I’ve said all I wanted to say.
Whatever happens, I will never be who I’m not,
Even if I feel hopeless and just so unsought,
I will always be what I am, I’m unafraid,
Years may come and go, but I’ll be me—today, tomorrow and always.
A Poem from the Riddling Songbird.
9:39 pm, 1st March 2010
Not the most popular, not anybody cool,
No epic achievements, nothing more to claim
I’m just me; I’ll always be the same.
The same Lakshmi who cowered in the first bench with nowhere else to go,
The same old girl who saw people march past and felt that she was slow,
They raced her in everything and she often felt so low,
They asked her to move with the herd but she had constantly said no.
Sometimes I act a kid, I can be immature,
I’m still growing up; I’m edgy and unsure,
But above all, be patient please; know that I’m learning,
I’m nobody perfect although I'm always trying.
I’m still that simple girl who watches the world whirl past,
Who escapes into childhood when her cause feels lost,
Sometimes it’s just so hard, you know, just so hard,
To be dainty and proper, I’ve dealt all my cards.
I can be self-obsessed, I can lash back,
I can start talking nonsense, I can lose track,
I can be impulsive, I can forget why I’m here,
Life can feel complicated, it can be unclear.
Yes, I still slide down the banisters, giggle and laugh out loud,
Yes I don’t like to pretend to be who I’m not,
Yes I still bike when it’s raining outside,
And drench my heart out and allow the sorrow to sublime.
If you call that uncivilized, you can label me a lunatic,
But I’ll always continue to wear my heart on my sleeve,
Its plain nice to be honest, I’ve found that to be intuitive,
I feel I’m cheating myself if I disbelieve.
I don’t hide behind dusty doors, sorry I don’t conceal
Happiness I gladly show, and friendships I don’t seal,
I can be passionate, I write like no one reads,
Because expression is the soul of all songs, I write what I feel.
All my songs aren’t great, nor are they all the same,
Some of them are simple, and some of them are lame,
Some of them are meaningless, they don’t convey,
Just like I’m unpretentious, and I’ve said all I wanted to say.
Whatever happens, I will never be who I’m not,
Even if I feel hopeless and just so unsought,
I will always be what I am, I’m unafraid,
Years may come and go, but I’ll be me—today, tomorrow and always.
A Poem from the Riddling Songbird.
9:39 pm, 1st March 2010
Will You Forgive Me?
Hapless as wistful tale of broken chord, unborn,
My soul doth travel, forsaken and encumbered,
By a phantom memory that creeps, stealthy, yet unhindered,
Through mine blinded windows, in its seething despair, my sensibility doth warn.
In crumbling autumnal maples, my soul beseeches to reach thy deep tawny,
A Rare brown showeth their intricate dance, but they match thy curious eye not,
Hazel, coffee and flaming amber, thy specialty have but ephemerally caught
Maroon, Auburn and pale ginger, shan’t ever be as severe as thy vivid near-mahogany….
Delirium doth descend, it is slow a chant,
So wild is the tendency, love, dually strong and tender,
In me is born the shy riddler,
All is now an incoherent stupor.
But in between the lines, you shall find,
An apology written with determined a hand,
Although cunning impatience had plagued,
Unforgiven poetess decided to write a hundred.
In life-blood it had written for thee,
Poems, not just a three,
A hundred, it hath reached century,
Lament hath reached the inflamed skies, the soul is sorry!
It has burned in pure a flame,
Has been toy to guilt’s hungry teeth,
Writing fingers have been fevered by passion
You have turned haunting inspiration.
So, today, the writer sanctifies,
In her words, you shall be idolized,
And as her sorry, she proclaims,
Forgiveness, she seeks, with remorse, intense.
She’s written you a hundred, staying up midnights,
Hoping that thou shall bless the blinded eyes, show it some light,
May you shine upon the unforgiven poetess that is me,
And cure her of her agony.
There have been but a hundred songs, which have in different ways screeched,
The singular word, repeating,
A sorry is all they say, each and every one,
Please, friend, will you forgive me?
My soul doth travel, forsaken and encumbered,
By a phantom memory that creeps, stealthy, yet unhindered,
Through mine blinded windows, in its seething despair, my sensibility doth warn.
In crumbling autumnal maples, my soul beseeches to reach thy deep tawny,
A Rare brown showeth their intricate dance, but they match thy curious eye not,
Hazel, coffee and flaming amber, thy specialty have but ephemerally caught
Maroon, Auburn and pale ginger, shan’t ever be as severe as thy vivid near-mahogany….
Delirium doth descend, it is slow a chant,
So wild is the tendency, love, dually strong and tender,
In me is born the shy riddler,
All is now an incoherent stupor.
But in between the lines, you shall find,
An apology written with determined a hand,
Although cunning impatience had plagued,
Unforgiven poetess decided to write a hundred.
In life-blood it had written for thee,
Poems, not just a three,
A hundred, it hath reached century,
Lament hath reached the inflamed skies, the soul is sorry!
It has burned in pure a flame,
Has been toy to guilt’s hungry teeth,
Writing fingers have been fevered by passion
You have turned haunting inspiration.
So, today, the writer sanctifies,
In her words, you shall be idolized,
And as her sorry, she proclaims,
Forgiveness, she seeks, with remorse, intense.
She’s written you a hundred, staying up midnights,
Hoping that thou shall bless the blinded eyes, show it some light,
May you shine upon the unforgiven poetess that is me,
And cure her of her agony.
There have been but a hundred songs, which have in different ways screeched,
The singular word, repeating,
A sorry is all they say, each and every one,
Please, friend, will you forgive me?
In Between
Between the raging seas and the thunderstorm,
Between the gales, and the swarm,
In between, the seas, saline,
And the dark, sinister ravine.
In between, pain and happiness,
Pain in remorse,
And happiness in remembering memories,
In between, in between, in between.
I’m here, in between,
Not knowing where to go,
I’m here, in between,
Lingering here, unseen.
Clogged is my memory, full of your thoughts,
I’m feeling so unsought,
But you know, I’m really sorry,
Please don’t be angry.
I’ve understood today, and I’m unafraid,
I put it here on paper, I confess my mistakes,
I shall try to mend your heart, even if nothing is okay,
This is all I’d like to say.
I do not know whether my efforts will pay off,
I don’t even know whether you will be listening to my words,
But all I know, is that in my heart,
I’m so sorry, even if we are a world apart.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,
And I have sung, more than a ninety three,
So please, do forgive,
Please don’t let me stay here, caught in between….
11:04 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Between the gales, and the swarm,
In between, the seas, saline,
And the dark, sinister ravine.
In between, pain and happiness,
Pain in remorse,
And happiness in remembering memories,
In between, in between, in between.
I’m here, in between,
Not knowing where to go,
I’m here, in between,
Lingering here, unseen.
Clogged is my memory, full of your thoughts,
I’m feeling so unsought,
But you know, I’m really sorry,
Please don’t be angry.
I’ve understood today, and I’m unafraid,
I put it here on paper, I confess my mistakes,
I shall try to mend your heart, even if nothing is okay,
This is all I’d like to say.
I do not know whether my efforts will pay off,
I don’t even know whether you will be listening to my words,
But all I know, is that in my heart,
I’m so sorry, even if we are a world apart.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,
And I have sung, more than a ninety three,
So please, do forgive,
Please don’t let me stay here, caught in between….
11:04 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Burning Candle
On burns the taper,
And infant turns playful,
As the shadows flicker,
He touches the candle.
As finger finds the flame,
The little kid exclaims,
The blue tongue has scorched,
And he catches a blister.
Why, he reasons, did I venture?
“Because life was meant to be an adventure”
Quick comes the answer,
It belongs only in fairytales, the happily ever after.
It is easy to see from the innocent child’s point of view,
But did anyone else see through?
There is something called the candle,
Which now sobs, for hurting the angel.
The candle wanted to prevent,
And it now repents,
For the assault, for the abuse,
On the child who was unknowing, who had just been amused.
So sweet was the child, it was attracted,
To the sickly, glimmering flame,
Don’t stay here, please go away,
Said the flame on many occasions, but the child had stayed.
And see, in the end, the child got hurt,
And the flame can’t remain inert,
It was in the candle’s sickly nature,
To hurt the other.
But the candle now prefers,
To melt instead of to hurt,
It now reasons,
It would rather be extinguished than cause blisters.
10:53 pm, 31st January, 2010.
And infant turns playful,
As the shadows flicker,
He touches the candle.
As finger finds the flame,
The little kid exclaims,
The blue tongue has scorched,
And he catches a blister.
Why, he reasons, did I venture?
“Because life was meant to be an adventure”
Quick comes the answer,
It belongs only in fairytales, the happily ever after.
It is easy to see from the innocent child’s point of view,
But did anyone else see through?
There is something called the candle,
Which now sobs, for hurting the angel.
The candle wanted to prevent,
And it now repents,
For the assault, for the abuse,
On the child who was unknowing, who had just been amused.
So sweet was the child, it was attracted,
To the sickly, glimmering flame,
Don’t stay here, please go away,
Said the flame on many occasions, but the child had stayed.
And see, in the end, the child got hurt,
And the flame can’t remain inert,
It was in the candle’s sickly nature,
To hurt the other.
But the candle now prefers,
To melt instead of to hurt,
It now reasons,
It would rather be extinguished than cause blisters.
10:53 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Empty
There is nothing where there once was,
Answer is simple, it is because,
I had been the cause,
OF a disaster, the guilt now gnaws.
There is nothing where there once was,
And the complete picture became jigsaw,
I guess nobody foresaw,
Such an end, and I became an outlaw.
Empty it is now, which was once filled,
The heart that had once, thrilled,
Like a very well disguised banquet,
Among roses, thorns hiding, in between.
Empty it is now, so void,
Empty, so devoid,
The tongue that once had lied,
You now, consciously avoid.
It was filled to the brim then,
But it was me, who had dampened,
Your spirits, so you had left,
Empty became everything, it felt like a theft.
But you were no thief,
It had all occurred naturally,
When burns on the candle,
It melts into itself.
It’s like a that lone candle now, melting,
Shining so bright, but also softening,
True, it is burning,
But one day shall be gone the light, and it shall be empty.
Empty, and so inane,
Sometimes, it feels pointless,
But there is a point to so long a song,
In it hides the remorse.
Please, will you forgive me?
Answer is simple, it is because,
I had been the cause,
OF a disaster, the guilt now gnaws.
There is nothing where there once was,
And the complete picture became jigsaw,
I guess nobody foresaw,
Such an end, and I became an outlaw.
Empty it is now, which was once filled,
The heart that had once, thrilled,
Like a very well disguised banquet,
Among roses, thorns hiding, in between.
Empty it is now, so void,
Empty, so devoid,
The tongue that once had lied,
You now, consciously avoid.
It was filled to the brim then,
But it was me, who had dampened,
Your spirits, so you had left,
Empty became everything, it felt like a theft.
But you were no thief,
It had all occurred naturally,
When burns on the candle,
It melts into itself.
It’s like a that lone candle now, melting,
Shining so bright, but also softening,
True, it is burning,
But one day shall be gone the light, and it shall be empty.
Empty, and so inane,
Sometimes, it feels pointless,
But there is a point to so long a song,
In it hides the remorse.
Please, will you forgive me?
Don't Resent Me
I’ve seen my fair share,
Of hurt, mistakes I’ve made,
And so much guilt with me, I carry
In the end, don’t resent me.
Because I’m trying, I really am,
So hard, now.
I know I have acted crazy,
But please don’t resent me.
Life sometimes turns crappy,
Sometimes, we act so bossy,
Yes, we also bully,
But try not to resent me.
I know I have been unfair,
I know, I am aware,
Of all the hurt I caused, but I have tried to repair,
So please don’t resent me.
It is very difficult, I know, I can feel the sting you feel,
I know, behind a straight face, you conceal,
Behind that façade, is that cauldron,
In hurt, boiling.
I know, I know, I comprehend,
The full wrath of my actions,
I’ve done my round of bad deeds, I’ve been a devil,
But please….try not to resent me.
I’m human friend, I made a tremendous mistake,
And that’s why I’m trying to correct it,
One poem at a time,
For you, I have rhymed at 10:29 pm.
10:29 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Of hurt, mistakes I’ve made,
And so much guilt with me, I carry
In the end, don’t resent me.
Because I’m trying, I really am,
So hard, now.
I know I have acted crazy,
But please don’t resent me.
Life sometimes turns crappy,
Sometimes, we act so bossy,
Yes, we also bully,
But try not to resent me.
I know I have been unfair,
I know, I am aware,
Of all the hurt I caused, but I have tried to repair,
So please don’t resent me.
It is very difficult, I know, I can feel the sting you feel,
I know, behind a straight face, you conceal,
Behind that façade, is that cauldron,
In hurt, boiling.
I know, I know, I comprehend,
The full wrath of my actions,
I’ve done my round of bad deeds, I’ve been a devil,
But please….try not to resent me.
I’m human friend, I made a tremendous mistake,
And that’s why I’m trying to correct it,
One poem at a time,
For you, I have rhymed at 10:29 pm.
10:29 pm, 31st January, 2010.
93
It’s an apology, the ninety-third,
From the one who has erred,
I don’t want to be misheard,
So I pray you listen.
There has been a mistake,
I don’t want to be friends, just for the namesake,
It’s genuine, my remorse,
And I know, my sorry is kind of coarse.
I’ve tried my best to make it really big,
In the process I have gathered
Many wonderful followers,
And they have been aiding.
I’ve tried so hard, to build,
The best sorry there is,
For my best friend, I’ll do anything,
A hundred more songs, if you desire, I’ll sing.
I called for the songbird, just for you,
So on my words, you may chew,
And finally come to know,
That I didn’t intend to be so shallow.
Ninety third screech, and it’s the last day of the month,
And great things, the journey has unearthed,
My thoughts have found expression,
But my best friend, hasn’t returned…..
Come back please, all mistakes have been realized,
And all errors, I’ve tried to correct,
Come back, please, now cry mine eyes,
For you friend,…..to come back.
10:21 pm, 31st January, 2010.
From the one who has erred,
I don’t want to be misheard,
So I pray you listen.
There has been a mistake,
I don’t want to be friends, just for the namesake,
It’s genuine, my remorse,
And I know, my sorry is kind of coarse.
I’ve tried my best to make it really big,
In the process I have gathered
Many wonderful followers,
And they have been aiding.
I’ve tried so hard, to build,
The best sorry there is,
For my best friend, I’ll do anything,
A hundred more songs, if you desire, I’ll sing.
I called for the songbird, just for you,
So on my words, you may chew,
And finally come to know,
That I didn’t intend to be so shallow.
Ninety third screech, and it’s the last day of the month,
And great things, the journey has unearthed,
My thoughts have found expression,
But my best friend, hasn’t returned…..
Come back please, all mistakes have been realized,
And all errors, I’ve tried to correct,
Come back, please, now cry mine eyes,
For you friend,…..to come back.
10:21 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Sunflower's Story
Sunflower once thrived on summer rain,
She found nourishment on Indian soil,
And as she grew she obtained,
Lots of love from the sun, who sustained.
Sunflower followed sun everywhere,
His movements, observing, everyday,
Responsive was she, extremely dutiful,
Because, nourishment from the sun, she drew.
When sun would set, she would droop,
And when he awoke, she would too,
When he danced, she thrilled,
When he laughed, she giggled.
When he shone, she turned brilliant,
And under his reign, she was illuminated,
So devoted was the sunflower,
The fiery god, she revered.
When gusty the afternoons turned, and the sun disappeared,
Behind ghastly clouds, when it was all unclear,
Anxious would turn the sunflower,
And she’d never sleep until the storm was over.
She looked to the sun, every morn,
Admiring him from afar,
Even though he ruled the skies, and she was one of many,
She adored him, even if insignificant she seemed.
The sun had choices, there were many sunflowers,
In fields spread out, all across the world,
Sunflowers were many, but there was only one sun,
And special to her, the sun had become.
The sunflower actually never believed,
That the sun would choose her, over so many,
But the sun moved away, before she could find out,
He had befriended the murky clouds.
It was easy for the sun, to go away,
But without him life wasn’t the same,
The sunflower knew only dismay,
Without the warmth of the sun, she withered away.
10:10 pm, 31st January, 2010.
She found nourishment on Indian soil,
And as she grew she obtained,
Lots of love from the sun, who sustained.
Sunflower followed sun everywhere,
His movements, observing, everyday,
Responsive was she, extremely dutiful,
Because, nourishment from the sun, she drew.
When sun would set, she would droop,
And when he awoke, she would too,
When he danced, she thrilled,
When he laughed, she giggled.
When he shone, she turned brilliant,
And under his reign, she was illuminated,
So devoted was the sunflower,
The fiery god, she revered.
When gusty the afternoons turned, and the sun disappeared,
Behind ghastly clouds, when it was all unclear,
Anxious would turn the sunflower,
And she’d never sleep until the storm was over.
She looked to the sun, every morn,
Admiring him from afar,
Even though he ruled the skies, and she was one of many,
She adored him, even if insignificant she seemed.
The sun had choices, there were many sunflowers,
In fields spread out, all across the world,
Sunflowers were many, but there was only one sun,
And special to her, the sun had become.
The sunflower actually never believed,
That the sun would choose her, over so many,
But the sun moved away, before she could find out,
He had befriended the murky clouds.
It was easy for the sun, to go away,
But without him life wasn’t the same,
The sunflower knew only dismay,
Without the warmth of the sun, she withered away.
10:10 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Recital
A sincere storyteller now recites,
The tale of two friends, and magnificent lies,
They were like twins, till one betrayed,
And then, evanesced the other, like snow in May.
Oh, but cold is not the heart, m’dear,
It still understands,
Clever it is, it now adheres,
The narcissism is gone, the confidence quivers.
But you know it’s been some time,
More than three months now,
And this one feels a fear,
But, unfeeling, is the other?
Spontaneous is the reaction,
Why isn’t it the same with you?
Saddened is this one,
Why don’t you feel it too?
Like a glimmer, but nothing sparked,
Like a flare, which was extinguished,
Like a friendship, tenuous, slipping away,
Like the end of another day.
Like serpent killed, in its egg,
Like we never reached the last leg,
Like melody that never found voice,
Like someone quit, by choice.
The fault was with this one, but who should decide?
The apt punishment, and cut a gap so wide?
When did it arise,
The barrier, This deep divide?
You know, the hurt doesn’t subside,
Because so much happiness, you did provide,
And today, I cannot hide,
The remorse I feel, cannot untie.
9:51 pm, 31st January, 2010.
The tale of two friends, and magnificent lies,
They were like twins, till one betrayed,
And then, evanesced the other, like snow in May.
Oh, but cold is not the heart, m’dear,
It still understands,
Clever it is, it now adheres,
The narcissism is gone, the confidence quivers.
But you know it’s been some time,
More than three months now,
And this one feels a fear,
But, unfeeling, is the other?
Spontaneous is the reaction,
Why isn’t it the same with you?
Saddened is this one,
Why don’t you feel it too?
Like a glimmer, but nothing sparked,
Like a flare, which was extinguished,
Like a friendship, tenuous, slipping away,
Like the end of another day.
Like serpent killed, in its egg,
Like we never reached the last leg,
Like melody that never found voice,
Like someone quit, by choice.
The fault was with this one, but who should decide?
The apt punishment, and cut a gap so wide?
When did it arise,
The barrier, This deep divide?
You know, the hurt doesn’t subside,
Because so much happiness, you did provide,
And today, I cannot hide,
The remorse I feel, cannot untie.
9:51 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Mute
Mute are voices unheard,
The silent bird this way turns,
Overcome, downtrodden, it quietly mutters
A sorry, for you to hear.
Mute you are, mum and soundless,
Even when voice, to your tongue, reaches,
You force it back down and don’t even speak,
Silent you remain, you seal your lips.
When you aren’t talking, do you know how it feels?
It’s like the grim incantation is sounded, something is unleashed,
I have no strength to endure, so I fall in,
To the power of this witchery, succumbing.
It seems you talked yesterday,
To one of my friends,
And you told that person many things,
But you forgot your best friend….
Please don’t be mute, please speak up!
Never stop the talk,
Continue, I want to hear,
I will, for you, stay right here.
Don’t be mute, so irresolute,
You have no idea, how much I miss you!
Please, I’m on my knees, begging you,
Come back please, don’t be mute!
The apology, is the 90th one,
And there are but 10 more,
Oh, what is it, that I should make?
To make the unwilling heart speak?
Open your mouth now, let your voice escape,
May it reach me, I await.
Oh, please, now, let your heart melt,
I cannot endure the punishment!
9:33 pm, 31st January, 2010.
The silent bird this way turns,
Overcome, downtrodden, it quietly mutters
A sorry, for you to hear.
Mute you are, mum and soundless,
Even when voice, to your tongue, reaches,
You force it back down and don’t even speak,
Silent you remain, you seal your lips.
When you aren’t talking, do you know how it feels?
It’s like the grim incantation is sounded, something is unleashed,
I have no strength to endure, so I fall in,
To the power of this witchery, succumbing.
It seems you talked yesterday,
To one of my friends,
And you told that person many things,
But you forgot your best friend….
Please don’t be mute, please speak up!
Never stop the talk,
Continue, I want to hear,
I will, for you, stay right here.
Don’t be mute, so irresolute,
You have no idea, how much I miss you!
Please, I’m on my knees, begging you,
Come back please, don’t be mute!
The apology, is the 90th one,
And there are but 10 more,
Oh, what is it, that I should make?
To make the unwilling heart speak?
Open your mouth now, let your voice escape,
May it reach me, I await.
Oh, please, now, let your heart melt,
I cannot endure the punishment!
9:33 pm, 31st January, 2010.
Were
Allied, with much in common,
Best of friends they were,
It took but happy company to enliven,
But that was when they were.
There is no “is” anymore, it’s all a were,
A “were”, a “were” a “we were”
Where did it go, where did it disappear?
All the fun, and much good cheer?
Hapless it has now turned, and sad songs, I utter,
Vivid proclamations of honesty, just to make others believe,
But you know, in the bottom of my heart, I know,
There is no is, when there is only a were.
Why does it only have to be in the past?
Why do these things never last?
All I want, is a wonderful friendship,
To go back to all that we were.
I had been so exultant back then,
Flying away, like an unstrained kite,
Going with the herd, so careless,
But now, I do realize.
Aha, the mistake was humongous,
I’m really sorry, nothing can outlast,
My misery, my growing remorse,
Until you forgive me o’ course, and we can go back, to all we were.
I promise you that I’ll prove myself to be a better friend,
Than anybody has ever been,
I will do anything,
To bring that stolen happiness, back to you.
6:00 pm, 30th January, 2010.
Best of friends they were,
It took but happy company to enliven,
But that was when they were.
There is no “is” anymore, it’s all a were,
A “were”, a “were” a “we were”
Where did it go, where did it disappear?
All the fun, and much good cheer?
Hapless it has now turned, and sad songs, I utter,
Vivid proclamations of honesty, just to make others believe,
But you know, in the bottom of my heart, I know,
There is no is, when there is only a were.
Why does it only have to be in the past?
Why do these things never last?
All I want, is a wonderful friendship,
To go back to all that we were.
I had been so exultant back then,
Flying away, like an unstrained kite,
Going with the herd, so careless,
But now, I do realize.
Aha, the mistake was humongous,
I’m really sorry, nothing can outlast,
My misery, my growing remorse,
Until you forgive me o’ course, and we can go back, to all we were.
I promise you that I’ll prove myself to be a better friend,
Than anybody has ever been,
I will do anything,
To bring that stolen happiness, back to you.
6:00 pm, 30th January, 2010.
Letter
May I write you another letter?
In green ink, would that make you feel better?
May I write to you once again?
The sorry, that never came?
May I write? May that be an elixir,
I’ve tried to be quick, but I should be even quicker,
My swords of words, are now ancient,
And jaded, is the blade.
I request you to bury those other words, which hurt caused,
I have these ones, which shall make you feel much better,
Words, spoken cannot be withdrawn,
But know that there are others, which conjures, my wand.
Hang on now, and look at the stars,
In friendly company, turn benevolent,
Careless, in joyous disregard,
Will you dance with me, friend, and let it go?
Look at the world now, it’s so beautiful!
Look at experiences, so colorful,
And in teenage, a passing a fantasy,
There is so much to understand, when you are growing!
I know, I know, many things are inexact,
But you know, life is never perfect,
And if you just say that one word,
Maybe we can move on, into brighter a world.
We could be happy again, befriended,
Please come back, don’t be offended,
Mistakes, we all make, we’re human like that,
Please don’t go away, it will break my heart.
5:48 pm, 30th January, 2010.
In green ink, would that make you feel better?
May I write to you once again?
The sorry, that never came?
May I write? May that be an elixir,
I’ve tried to be quick, but I should be even quicker,
My swords of words, are now ancient,
And jaded, is the blade.
I request you to bury those other words, which hurt caused,
I have these ones, which shall make you feel much better,
Words, spoken cannot be withdrawn,
But know that there are others, which conjures, my wand.
Hang on now, and look at the stars,
In friendly company, turn benevolent,
Careless, in joyous disregard,
Will you dance with me, friend, and let it go?
Look at the world now, it’s so beautiful!
Look at experiences, so colorful,
And in teenage, a passing a fantasy,
There is so much to understand, when you are growing!
I know, I know, many things are inexact,
But you know, life is never perfect,
And if you just say that one word,
Maybe we can move on, into brighter a world.
We could be happy again, befriended,
Please come back, don’t be offended,
Mistakes, we all make, we’re human like that,
Please don’t go away, it will break my heart.
5:48 pm, 30th January, 2010.
Tangled
Confused, enchantress had once turned,
When experiences hadn’t been simple,
Her truths turned majestic abominations,
Her life’s twists, became convolutions, inexplicable.
Tangled they were, very badly,
She couldn’t classify feelings, they were coiled,
But that just didn’t mean,
That ungrateful was she.
She was so worried, actually,
You only know one side of the story,
Wellaway, the rest is unaddressed,
The world, is just as perplexed.
Wanion, by ill misfortune,
The tongue had lied, and very soon,
Lost was it, the sweet bond,
Cut so deep, intellect, conned.
The truth is, I don’t know why I did what I did,
Was it just pride or something else?
But I’m sorry friend, really really sorry!!
I realize now, I shouldn’t have!
My emotions were coiled, maybe I should have disconnected,
And then maybe, I wouldn’t have acted,
So horrible, maybe, oh! Please give me…
Another chance….I don’t want to live in ‘maybe’s.
5:36 pm, 30th january, 2010.
When experiences hadn’t been simple,
Her truths turned majestic abominations,
Her life’s twists, became convolutions, inexplicable.
Tangled they were, very badly,
She couldn’t classify feelings, they were coiled,
But that just didn’t mean,
That ungrateful was she.
She was so worried, actually,
You only know one side of the story,
Wellaway, the rest is unaddressed,
The world, is just as perplexed.
Wanion, by ill misfortune,
The tongue had lied, and very soon,
Lost was it, the sweet bond,
Cut so deep, intellect, conned.
The truth is, I don’t know why I did what I did,
Was it just pride or something else?
But I’m sorry friend, really really sorry!!
I realize now, I shouldn’t have!
My emotions were coiled, maybe I should have disconnected,
And then maybe, I wouldn’t have acted,
So horrible, maybe, oh! Please give me…
Another chance….I don’t want to live in ‘maybe’s.
5:36 pm, 30th january, 2010.
And may the rest be damned
Happiness, strength and meaning to existence,
Sorries in riddles, and so much repentance,
Learning to be human, and remorse to type,
And may the rest, be damned.
I’m not inflamed, nor am I vengeful,
I don’t play games anymore, I’m not that kind of girl,
I don’t wish to harm others, I care a lot,
But you know, sometimes, I’ll say…
May the rest be damned.
May it be damned, all the stupid troubles,
Life doesn’t have to be so complicated,
Anoint the burns, and tear the pages,
May hurt go up in flames, bury the frustration.
Kill all the jealousy, the awful emotion,
Stop the lying tongue, and go back soon,
Damn the horrible, unhealthy depressions,
Scream wimme, let the rest find damnation.
So, yeah, throw knives,
At sorrow, and kick up the dirt,
Sing wimme, May the rest be damned!!
Can’t you choose to forget?
There are two modes, to wreck balance,
One is to provide vile punishment,
To one who did a wrong, and
The other, is to damn the rest.
Well yeah, I’ve seen the punishment,
I’ve suffered, willfully, coz that’s justice,
But today, they’ve released me from my personal hell,
And I’m saying, may the rest be damned.
Forget it, forget it, just forget!!
Let’s not hold any more regrets,
Time is short and there is so much more to patch up,
Be my friend, please, damn all the complication.
5:22 pm, 30th January, 2010.
Sorries in riddles, and so much repentance,
Learning to be human, and remorse to type,
And may the rest, be damned.
I’m not inflamed, nor am I vengeful,
I don’t play games anymore, I’m not that kind of girl,
I don’t wish to harm others, I care a lot,
But you know, sometimes, I’ll say…
May the rest be damned.
May it be damned, all the stupid troubles,
Life doesn’t have to be so complicated,
Anoint the burns, and tear the pages,
May hurt go up in flames, bury the frustration.
Kill all the jealousy, the awful emotion,
Stop the lying tongue, and go back soon,
Damn the horrible, unhealthy depressions,
Scream wimme, let the rest find damnation.
So, yeah, throw knives,
At sorrow, and kick up the dirt,
Sing wimme, May the rest be damned!!
Can’t you choose to forget?
There are two modes, to wreck balance,
One is to provide vile punishment,
To one who did a wrong, and
The other, is to damn the rest.
Well yeah, I’ve seen the punishment,
I’ve suffered, willfully, coz that’s justice,
But today, they’ve released me from my personal hell,
And I’m saying, may the rest be damned.
Forget it, forget it, just forget!!
Let’s not hold any more regrets,
Time is short and there is so much more to patch up,
Be my friend, please, damn all the complication.
5:22 pm, 30th January, 2010.
Swan of Dying Lake
Beforetime there existed, guardian,
Of dying lake, it ‘twas a swan,
Faultless, unbroken and esteemed,
The guardian swam, to lotus leaves.
The lotus would perish, with the lake,
And its remains, would drift away,
Rotten with premature decay,
Swan knew, it would degenerate.
The lotus, creamy white,
With comeliness, which had persisted, erewhile,
Betimes, the winsomeness would fragment,
And yet, lingered, the guardian of lake.
Forsooth, the swan was in love with the lotus,
It had seen the world, through its floral petals,
Crimson beauty, so spread out,
In symmetry, lotus had called out.
Ardent was swan, it could have but chosen,
Many others, who were just as noble,
In warmth, love and compassion,
They had matched, the guardian.
Nigh, said swan, to all others,
It would have only stayed with the lotus,
The lotus, the one, who enthralled,
For the lotus, guardian stayed behind.
But died the lake, come occasion,
‘Twas now, the summer season,
I prithee, go away said lotus,
So that I may die in all quiet.
The guardian promised to hang on,
To lotus, who would anyway find an end,
And so, in dying lake, swan finds reprieve,
Pardie, guardian has chosen to perish.
5:07 pm, 30th January, 2010.
Of dying lake, it ‘twas a swan,
Faultless, unbroken and esteemed,
The guardian swam, to lotus leaves.
The lotus would perish, with the lake,
And its remains, would drift away,
Rotten with premature decay,
Swan knew, it would degenerate.
The lotus, creamy white,
With comeliness, which had persisted, erewhile,
Betimes, the winsomeness would fragment,
And yet, lingered, the guardian of lake.
Forsooth, the swan was in love with the lotus,
It had seen the world, through its floral petals,
Crimson beauty, so spread out,
In symmetry, lotus had called out.
Ardent was swan, it could have but chosen,
Many others, who were just as noble,
In warmth, love and compassion,
They had matched, the guardian.
Nigh, said swan, to all others,
It would have only stayed with the lotus,
The lotus, the one, who enthralled,
For the lotus, guardian stayed behind.
But died the lake, come occasion,
‘Twas now, the summer season,
I prithee, go away said lotus,
So that I may die in all quiet.
The guardian promised to hang on,
To lotus, who would anyway find an end,
And so, in dying lake, swan finds reprieve,
Pardie, guardian has chosen to perish.
5:07 pm, 30th January, 2010.
The Thin Line
“There is only a thin line,”
Between love and hatred had come quick reply,
Aha, now speakth the sensibility,
It is easy to discern now, new is my ability.
Yes, there is only a thin line, a very steep one at that,
It’s a really thin line, almost invisible,
And when the shallow minds are murky, nothing is clear,
Thou shall skid to a halt, or skip over.
The thin line is so easy to cross,
And blame, borrowed, from others,
Shall complain, and it takes some time to feel the loss,
But loss it is, friend, when you skip across.
To break to a halt, is it so difficult?
When you spot the thin line, at the end of the road?
Why does something so erratic spurt?
Was it so great, the hurt?
It’s an easy line to cross, and then attack,
The one who wronged, and tell her she lacks,
gratefulness, empathy, and love, true,
She was a devil, I admit, but she did have a degree of virtue.
She chose not to hate, to cross the thin line,
She chose to love everybody, even if, before, she had committed crimes,
She choose to forgive the ailing hearts, she chose to heal,
But why did the thin line have to be crossed, why was the friendship sealed?
I saw the line, and didn’t skip across,
It looked like a cure to all this remorse,
But no, I choose to stay on this side,
The side where there is love, and so much life.
The side which knows no hatred, where there is purity to emotion,
Where no single heart ever stays broken,
On this side, where there is no one dies guilty,
This side of the thin line, where there is no animosity.
So I invite you today, to come to the greener side,
Where hearts are more human, than I can ever describe,
Where we know empathy, love and compassion,
So I pray to you, please, skip back over.
4:39 pm 30th January, 2010.
Between love and hatred had come quick reply,
Aha, now speakth the sensibility,
It is easy to discern now, new is my ability.
Yes, there is only a thin line, a very steep one at that,
It’s a really thin line, almost invisible,
And when the shallow minds are murky, nothing is clear,
Thou shall skid to a halt, or skip over.
The thin line is so easy to cross,
And blame, borrowed, from others,
Shall complain, and it takes some time to feel the loss,
But loss it is, friend, when you skip across.
To break to a halt, is it so difficult?
When you spot the thin line, at the end of the road?
Why does something so erratic spurt?
Was it so great, the hurt?
It’s an easy line to cross, and then attack,
The one who wronged, and tell her she lacks,
gratefulness, empathy, and love, true,
She was a devil, I admit, but she did have a degree of virtue.
She chose not to hate, to cross the thin line,
She chose to love everybody, even if, before, she had committed crimes,
She choose to forgive the ailing hearts, she chose to heal,
But why did the thin line have to be crossed, why was the friendship sealed?
I saw the line, and didn’t skip across,
It looked like a cure to all this remorse,
But no, I choose to stay on this side,
The side where there is love, and so much life.
The side which knows no hatred, where there is purity to emotion,
Where no single heart ever stays broken,
On this side, where there is no one dies guilty,
This side of the thin line, where there is no animosity.
So I invite you today, to come to the greener side,
Where hearts are more human, than I can ever describe,
Where we know empathy, love and compassion,
So I pray to you, please, skip back over.
4:39 pm 30th January, 2010.
Maple
On the twenty ninth she placed,
A maple, in the middle of the talking page,
It was full of your words, the dairy,
The one, that still treasures.
There are many such riches, many such gems,
That are snatched by the magpies, many such prizes,
And for me, the treasure had been simple,
It was that lone, tawny maple.
Maple, autumnal,
With dew, so moist, it had floated to her,
And with winds, as it grappled,
She had caught the maple.
It was her day of jubilant celebration,
And she had been so caught up in the revelry,
Her life had been festooned, decorated,
But the autumnal maple, had reminded.
It had contrasted, it had been crumbling,
In a world, that was blooming,
Like ugly duckling, which became swan,
The beauty in webbed vein, only I saw.
A maple it was, moist with morning dew,
Dying now, being trampled on,
But in crumbling maple, I saw,
Beauty, of my favorite brown.
The color is to me, very dear,
Because it’s a very special shade,
The maple flapped his wings in front of my eyes,
And I bought it home to my dairy….
Shadow, I named my maple.
And I placed him there, in my book, on the 29th,
So that place, he may always occupy,
He still stays there; I haven’t let him die…
8:46 pm, 29th January, 2010.
A maple, in the middle of the talking page,
It was full of your words, the dairy,
The one, that still treasures.
There are many such riches, many such gems,
That are snatched by the magpies, many such prizes,
And for me, the treasure had been simple,
It was that lone, tawny maple.
Maple, autumnal,
With dew, so moist, it had floated to her,
And with winds, as it grappled,
She had caught the maple.
It was her day of jubilant celebration,
And she had been so caught up in the revelry,
Her life had been festooned, decorated,
But the autumnal maple, had reminded.
It had contrasted, it had been crumbling,
In a world, that was blooming,
Like ugly duckling, which became swan,
The beauty in webbed vein, only I saw.
A maple it was, moist with morning dew,
Dying now, being trampled on,
But in crumbling maple, I saw,
Beauty, of my favorite brown.
The color is to me, very dear,
Because it’s a very special shade,
The maple flapped his wings in front of my eyes,
And I bought it home to my dairy….
Shadow, I named my maple.
And I placed him there, in my book, on the 29th,
So that place, he may always occupy,
He still stays there; I haven’t let him die…
8:46 pm, 29th January, 2010.
On the 29th
29th January, it is today,
It is something special, did you forget?
29th January, it is today,
It’s a truly incredible day!
29th January, my dairy shall never forget,
For in it was written words, that spanned,
More than 20 pages, in a single day…
That day, phenomenal, life became.
It was the day…wait, why should I leak?
All my secrets, why should I speak?
Aha, is born another riddle,
For the clever thinker!
Do you remember this day, can you?
Does your memory stay sharp, can you review,
Go back to see, what so important,
It’s not just another day, the twenty-ninth!!!
Oh my gosh, a year already?
Friend, can you stay steady?
Isn’t time too quick, it’s already past-tense,
It’s come and come again, the twenty-ninth!!
It’s not your birthday, neither mine,
It’s not a holiday, the twenty-ninth,
My dairy knows, so do you,
I wish you could go back and sift through…
All the memories, and you will see,
The significance, of this momentous day,
The twenty-ninth, scribbled in 20 pages,
Shall stay immortal, to my pen.
Time might scurry, but 29th is caught,
A happy memory, the day that bought,
A little more sunshine to bright a world,
All aglow, something, unfurled.
On the 29th, of year last,
On the month of January, which is in the past?
So long ago, and yet so close,
Time has been spent, but memories, don’t repose.
On the 29th.
29th January, 2010. 1:30 am.
It is something special, did you forget?
29th January, it is today,
It’s a truly incredible day!
29th January, my dairy shall never forget,
For in it was written words, that spanned,
More than 20 pages, in a single day…
That day, phenomenal, life became.
It was the day…wait, why should I leak?
All my secrets, why should I speak?
Aha, is born another riddle,
For the clever thinker!
Do you remember this day, can you?
Does your memory stay sharp, can you review,
Go back to see, what so important,
It’s not just another day, the twenty-ninth!!!
Oh my gosh, a year already?
Friend, can you stay steady?
Isn’t time too quick, it’s already past-tense,
It’s come and come again, the twenty-ninth!!
It’s not your birthday, neither mine,
It’s not a holiday, the twenty-ninth,
My dairy knows, so do you,
I wish you could go back and sift through…
All the memories, and you will see,
The significance, of this momentous day,
The twenty-ninth, scribbled in 20 pages,
Shall stay immortal, to my pen.
Time might scurry, but 29th is caught,
A happy memory, the day that bought,
A little more sunshine to bright a world,
All aglow, something, unfurled.
On the 29th, of year last,
On the month of January, which is in the past?
So long ago, and yet so close,
Time has been spent, but memories, don’t repose.
On the 29th.
29th January, 2010. 1:30 am.
Repeating
Sleepy fingers, so illogical,
Luminescent screen, once more calls,
Hesitate not, I, to write,
Poetess shall rhyme, in spite….
You know, I’m tired today, so drowsy,
Back from writing 3 exams, just so crazy,
I’ve not slept all night; I’ve tossed and turned,
Insomniac, I have become.
But hey, all that is in the past,
To whine is not the intent of this post,
This post is to show you I remember,
My remorse, every single day…..burns the ember.
Seething hot, it hasn’t been soothed,
Months have passed, nothing is still smooth,
There is only a single remedy, just one cure,
Tell me you forgive me, friend, please be sure.
I might be sleep-deprived,
Depressed, I may cry,
I may be engaged in many activities,
But know that, I’m always remembering.
I did a wrong, I know, I know!!
And the remorse burns strong, I’m constantly low,
I want to recover, I want to sleep,
One day, to rest in peace.
How can I be called human, if mistakes, I don’t accept?
How can I be called human, if I don’t’ repent?
Insatiable is desire, it’s a simple craving,
To be forgiven, I am longing.
1:20 am, 29th January, 2010.
Luminescent screen, once more calls,
Hesitate not, I, to write,
Poetess shall rhyme, in spite….
You know, I’m tired today, so drowsy,
Back from writing 3 exams, just so crazy,
I’ve not slept all night; I’ve tossed and turned,
Insomniac, I have become.
But hey, all that is in the past,
To whine is not the intent of this post,
This post is to show you I remember,
My remorse, every single day…..burns the ember.
Seething hot, it hasn’t been soothed,
Months have passed, nothing is still smooth,
There is only a single remedy, just one cure,
Tell me you forgive me, friend, please be sure.
I might be sleep-deprived,
Depressed, I may cry,
I may be engaged in many activities,
But know that, I’m always remembering.
I did a wrong, I know, I know!!
And the remorse burns strong, I’m constantly low,
I want to recover, I want to sleep,
One day, to rest in peace.
How can I be called human, if mistakes, I don’t accept?
How can I be called human, if I don’t’ repent?
Insatiable is desire, it’s a simple craving,
To be forgiven, I am longing.
1:20 am, 29th January, 2010.
Turn Around
Walking alone on cold January night,
Shivering all along my spine,
And yet enjoying the numbing winds,
Whispers in the dark, speaking….
Chimes, in the far distance,
Twinkling stars, in the great beyond,
Remembering, the repentance,
And maintaining, going along.
Alone, it was impossible not to think,
Even if I had forgotten how to blink,
My thoughts rushed, I visualized,
You walking by, holding my hand.
I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t! It’s wrong,
I shouldn’t have, when you are gone,
Alas, what do I do, I cannot forbid,
Coz everything is already morbid.
How can I not imagine my best friend,
Walking along, holding my hand?
How can I stop thinking that you belong,
That you will someday, respond?
Aha, did you know what I did?
I threw my head up to the skies,
And watched the clouds flitting by,
In the sweet moonlight….
On January night,
I called your name, soft and slow,
With your name, the winds played,
Tossing it there and here again,
They gushed, so powerfully,
And I grinned, innocently.
Just your name is enough,
Just your name gives a spark,
To dying winds, which were starved,
To the rhythm in name, they bounce along.
And as to your name I called,
The chimes responded, clinked,
Sweet was that melody….
You should have been here!
Oh, I would have danced, I swear!
If I wasn’t holding my physics textbook as I walked home,
On my journey, all alone,
Calling your name, but with winds it had flown.
Your name, away from me was blown…..
Once uttered, from my lips it did escape,
With the winds, it did fade……
May the winds, turn around.
May the winds hear my song.
May the winds come back, May they comprehend,
How much, to me, means my friend…
11:21 pm January, 2010.
Shivering all along my spine,
And yet enjoying the numbing winds,
Whispers in the dark, speaking….
Chimes, in the far distance,
Twinkling stars, in the great beyond,
Remembering, the repentance,
And maintaining, going along.
Alone, it was impossible not to think,
Even if I had forgotten how to blink,
My thoughts rushed, I visualized,
You walking by, holding my hand.
I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t! It’s wrong,
I shouldn’t have, when you are gone,
Alas, what do I do, I cannot forbid,
Coz everything is already morbid.
How can I not imagine my best friend,
Walking along, holding my hand?
How can I stop thinking that you belong,
That you will someday, respond?
Aha, did you know what I did?
I threw my head up to the skies,
And watched the clouds flitting by,
In the sweet moonlight….
On January night,
I called your name, soft and slow,
With your name, the winds played,
Tossing it there and here again,
They gushed, so powerfully,
And I grinned, innocently.
Just your name is enough,
Just your name gives a spark,
To dying winds, which were starved,
To the rhythm in name, they bounce along.
And as to your name I called,
The chimes responded, clinked,
Sweet was that melody….
You should have been here!
Oh, I would have danced, I swear!
If I wasn’t holding my physics textbook as I walked home,
On my journey, all alone,
Calling your name, but with winds it had flown.
Your name, away from me was blown…..
Once uttered, from my lips it did escape,
With the winds, it did fade……
May the winds, turn around.
May the winds hear my song.
May the winds come back, May they comprehend,
How much, to me, means my friend…
11:21 pm January, 2010.
Dumb
I have known to be obsessive over trivial things,
I take things to heart, magnifying,
I’m nobody great, nobody intelligent,
Little and timid, I am just me.
But there used to be times when I thought that wasn’t enough,
When I felt that I wasn’t enough too,
And those were the times when I relied on my seraph,
I would confide in you.
Exam time, when I was stressed,
Anxious, tensed and so depressed,
I would call to you, and complain,
I’m just so dumb, I would say.
Yes, I’m still so dumb, I don’t get physics,
I cry over problems when no one’s looking,
I’m fed up with the way my brain functions,
I want it to stay intelligent and rational.
Aha, but so many things plague it now,
Depressions, guilt and pricking anxiety,
And as they scream for help over again,
I wish that you could be here with me.
Holding my hand, making me see sense,
Telling me that nothing was wrong when
It actually was. And giving me that extra strength
To fight harder, to hold on.
Showing me that life was not as bad as it was meant to be,
That there was nothing possibly wrong with me,
My outlook was pessimistic,
But you knew how to make life look like a masterpiece.
I have an exam tomorrow; I have tried to study,
I have tried to concentrate, with all my heart,
And I feel Dumb again, although I’ve tried,
Nothing seems to be correct, this is futile.
Where do I seek help now, you tell me?
It’s not a teacher I require, its emotional support.
It’s not the understanding, it’s the confidence,
Which is lacking in me, since the day you left.
Help this soul; you are the only one, who can,
Make me light up, and take it in my stride,
Make me feel like nothing is impossible,
Is that asking too much, or too little?
I’m sorry!! I’m sorry! I cannot survive,
Without your support, your wonderful advise,
You were awesome; you were more than a friend,
In my life, you made a profound difference.
So I pray…..help me…….Come back. Without your advise, my rational thought can't survive...
11:31 am, 24th January, 2010.
I take things to heart, magnifying,
I’m nobody great, nobody intelligent,
Little and timid, I am just me.
But there used to be times when I thought that wasn’t enough,
When I felt that I wasn’t enough too,
And those were the times when I relied on my seraph,
I would confide in you.
Exam time, when I was stressed,
Anxious, tensed and so depressed,
I would call to you, and complain,
I’m just so dumb, I would say.
Yes, I’m still so dumb, I don’t get physics,
I cry over problems when no one’s looking,
I’m fed up with the way my brain functions,
I want it to stay intelligent and rational.
Aha, but so many things plague it now,
Depressions, guilt and pricking anxiety,
And as they scream for help over again,
I wish that you could be here with me.
Holding my hand, making me see sense,
Telling me that nothing was wrong when
It actually was. And giving me that extra strength
To fight harder, to hold on.
Showing me that life was not as bad as it was meant to be,
That there was nothing possibly wrong with me,
My outlook was pessimistic,
But you knew how to make life look like a masterpiece.
I have an exam tomorrow; I have tried to study,
I have tried to concentrate, with all my heart,
And I feel Dumb again, although I’ve tried,
Nothing seems to be correct, this is futile.
Where do I seek help now, you tell me?
It’s not a teacher I require, its emotional support.
It’s not the understanding, it’s the confidence,
Which is lacking in me, since the day you left.
Help this soul; you are the only one, who can,
Make me light up, and take it in my stride,
Make me feel like nothing is impossible,
Is that asking too much, or too little?
I’m sorry!! I’m sorry! I cannot survive,
Without your support, your wonderful advise,
You were awesome; you were more than a friend,
In my life, you made a profound difference.
So I pray…..help me…….Come back. Without your advise, my rational thought can't survive...
11:31 am, 24th January, 2010.
If it never had happened
If it never had happened, would all have been fine?
If it never had happened, would you have been mine?
My best friend, the one I could rely on,
The one, who would have stayed behind….
If it never had happened, would you have come back,
For me, when all was gone?
If it had never happened, would you have kept,
promises, Wiped my tears, when I wept?
You used to do that before, did you forget?
Cheer me up, made me feel tall when I thought I was a midget,
You used to tickle me pink, and then used to force,
A half-hearted smile, would become a whole.
If it never happened, maybe you would have continued,
It wouldn’t be like you’d return in a blue moon,
You would always hold my hand,
You would have made me a different person.
If it never had happened, you would be the shelter,
My respite, in scorching summer,
If you were there, things wouldn’t be cruel,
But that is only, if you were here.
If it never happened, we would have been together,
As best friends, always on the better,
Side of things and happy, all the time….
If, it never had happened.
But it has happened, friend, and the cause is me,
I’ve cut the chords, broken it is,
Yes, I did something wrong,
But please pretend it hasn’t happened, and forgive me…its been so long…
3:35 pm 22nd January, 2010.
If it never had happened, would you have been mine?
My best friend, the one I could rely on,
The one, who would have stayed behind….
If it never had happened, would you have come back,
For me, when all was gone?
If it had never happened, would you have kept,
promises, Wiped my tears, when I wept?
You used to do that before, did you forget?
Cheer me up, made me feel tall when I thought I was a midget,
You used to tickle me pink, and then used to force,
A half-hearted smile, would become a whole.
If it never happened, maybe you would have continued,
It wouldn’t be like you’d return in a blue moon,
You would always hold my hand,
You would have made me a different person.
If it never had happened, you would be the shelter,
My respite, in scorching summer,
If you were there, things wouldn’t be cruel,
But that is only, if you were here.
If it never happened, we would have been together,
As best friends, always on the better,
Side of things and happy, all the time….
If, it never had happened.
But it has happened, friend, and the cause is me,
I’ve cut the chords, broken it is,
Yes, I did something wrong,
But please pretend it hasn’t happened, and forgive me…its been so long…
3:35 pm 22nd January, 2010.
Agony
The Indian black, gilded ebony,
Does ink my moving quill,
As I leave, to enter my world,
Unspoken, is my growing agony.
Expression should be pure, and so channelized,
Expression should always come from the heart,
This, no master has taught,
But experience has been my teacher, I’ve intuitively figured out.
But who would have ever thought,
That there was anything sane about agony,
Because agony is not a stable emotion,
Agony, is feeling and unfeeling.
Agony is pain, the one that quietly derails,
Agony is a monster, and it’s impossible to get used to the pain.
But my expression, my soul, is such that it cannot deny…
Even Agony, here, finds a voice.
How can I just shut up and keep it all to myself?
How can I keep it buried, how can I not impel?
I want to scream, every single second, its lunatism,
And so, to agony, I decided to find a voice.
Here, even agony is so channelized,
Neat and ordered, I never knew it was fine,
I thought agony was coarse, and undefined,
But you know, I was just so wrong.
No, I wear my heart on my sleeve,
And I want to show exactly how much it hurts,
I don’t want to one day leave,
Leaving behind secrets, when others grieve.
Why do I openly show my agony, when nobody cares?
Why do I continue writing, when it’s all insane?
Maybe because I just want you to see,
And understand that I’m repenting.
I continue to write, as no one reads,
They gave me their advises, but I find no reprieve,
It's senseless when you are so agonized,
Everything is weird, you cannot understand.
But no, I won't shut up, I don't want to!
I won't shut up, even if they say "No one is listening to you!"
This might all be futile, but it's atlease sincere,
You might not forgive me, but I will persevere...
I want you to understand that I committed a wrong,
But I’m equally sorry, so I’m singing along,
Openly showcasing my agony,
Begging you to forgive me!
It hurts the guiltily more than the innocent,
It stabs us harder, more is the pain,
You might suffer, but I suffer tenfold,
Unforgiven, it is a hundred times more.
5:25 pm, 19th January, 2010.
Does ink my moving quill,
As I leave, to enter my world,
Unspoken, is my growing agony.
Expression should be pure, and so channelized,
Expression should always come from the heart,
This, no master has taught,
But experience has been my teacher, I’ve intuitively figured out.
But who would have ever thought,
That there was anything sane about agony,
Because agony is not a stable emotion,
Agony, is feeling and unfeeling.
Agony is pain, the one that quietly derails,
Agony is a monster, and it’s impossible to get used to the pain.
But my expression, my soul, is such that it cannot deny…
Even Agony, here, finds a voice.
How can I just shut up and keep it all to myself?
How can I keep it buried, how can I not impel?
I want to scream, every single second, its lunatism,
And so, to agony, I decided to find a voice.
Here, even agony is so channelized,
Neat and ordered, I never knew it was fine,
I thought agony was coarse, and undefined,
But you know, I was just so wrong.
No, I wear my heart on my sleeve,
And I want to show exactly how much it hurts,
I don’t want to one day leave,
Leaving behind secrets, when others grieve.
Why do I openly show my agony, when nobody cares?
Why do I continue writing, when it’s all insane?
Maybe because I just want you to see,
And understand that I’m repenting.
I continue to write, as no one reads,
They gave me their advises, but I find no reprieve,
It's senseless when you are so agonized,
Everything is weird, you cannot understand.
But no, I won't shut up, I don't want to!
I won't shut up, even if they say "No one is listening to you!"
This might all be futile, but it's atlease sincere,
You might not forgive me, but I will persevere...
I want you to understand that I committed a wrong,
But I’m equally sorry, so I’m singing along,
Openly showcasing my agony,
Begging you to forgive me!
It hurts the guiltily more than the innocent,
It stabs us harder, more is the pain,
You might suffer, but I suffer tenfold,
Unforgiven, it is a hundred times more.
5:25 pm, 19th January, 2010.
Happier Times
A thousand suns and a thousand moons,
Can come and go, but I’ll still be blue,
They may turn fluid, they may pass,
But know that I still cannot laugh.
I cannot anymore hold my smile,
Because we have seen happier times!
Happier, fun, the good old times,
When we were friends, and I never lied!
Happier times, when my eyes would spy,
After those lectures and class,
To catch your eye,
I would try….those were our happier times.
Oh, when we were on cordial terms,
When something seemed to be picking up,
When to you, I looked and grinned,
But your glance had been fleeting…those were our happier times.
Those times when I hoped for miracles,
To happen in front of my eyes,
Do you remember that day, especial,
When it had rained cats and dogs?...those were our happier times.
Yes, I had hoped, they were wishful dreams,
Colorfully built adolescent fantasies,
When my dreams, desire wedded,
Something had turned entirely different….those were the happier times.
Now, see, look how it has changed,
Look now, how unhappy life became,
It’s now all black and white,
Color hath drained, it shall collapse.
This isn’t my happiest time.
It has swept me away, like a tide,
In anguish, pure, as I drown,
It’s invaded me in every sense,
I’m hoping the happier time will come again…..
So please be kind, please revive,
Give me the nectar, help me survive,
Show me the light at the end of my tunnel,
Make me well, oh, please my angel!
I beg you……I beg you….for happier times….
5:12 pm, January 19th 2010.
Can come and go, but I’ll still be blue,
They may turn fluid, they may pass,
But know that I still cannot laugh.
I cannot anymore hold my smile,
Because we have seen happier times!
Happier, fun, the good old times,
When we were friends, and I never lied!
Happier times, when my eyes would spy,
After those lectures and class,
To catch your eye,
I would try….those were our happier times.
Oh, when we were on cordial terms,
When something seemed to be picking up,
When to you, I looked and grinned,
But your glance had been fleeting…those were our happier times.
Those times when I hoped for miracles,
To happen in front of my eyes,
Do you remember that day, especial,
When it had rained cats and dogs?...those were our happier times.
Yes, I had hoped, they were wishful dreams,
Colorfully built adolescent fantasies,
When my dreams, desire wedded,
Something had turned entirely different….those were the happier times.
Now, see, look how it has changed,
Look now, how unhappy life became,
It’s now all black and white,
Color hath drained, it shall collapse.
This isn’t my happiest time.
It has swept me away, like a tide,
In anguish, pure, as I drown,
It’s invaded me in every sense,
I’m hoping the happier time will come again…..
So please be kind, please revive,
Give me the nectar, help me survive,
Show me the light at the end of my tunnel,
Make me well, oh, please my angel!
I beg you……I beg you….for happier times….
5:12 pm, January 19th 2010.
Frayed
With overuse, ropes can fray,
With misuse, toys might break,
Carelessness, and ignorant,
A friendship can also fray.
When ropes are gone, o’ course,
You can replace them, with others,
When toys lay broken, you can find,
Better ones, you can buy.
But what happens when a friendship breaks?
It cannot be reassembled,
It’s not a toy, it’s immaterial,
Excuses don’t work, can it be patched up again?
What does it take, to heal it all?
What does it take, why can’t
Words ever try to tie that knot,
Rejoin what has frayed apart?
Why can’t there be a reunion,
Even after lessons are learnt?
What does it take to replace,
The hatred, to make right what is frayed?
It’s frayed, no glue can fix it,
It’s frayed, what will mend it?
Is it enough, just to repent?
Should I do more, what should I lend?
What will make it right, what has been frayed?
What will make it feel like I never betrayed?
Why does it have to be so hard, to reconstruct,
Why do I have to be this adrift?
Is it…..still frayed?
10:46 pm, 17th January, 2010.
With misuse, toys might break,
Carelessness, and ignorant,
A friendship can also fray.
When ropes are gone, o’ course,
You can replace them, with others,
When toys lay broken, you can find,
Better ones, you can buy.
But what happens when a friendship breaks?
It cannot be reassembled,
It’s not a toy, it’s immaterial,
Excuses don’t work, can it be patched up again?
What does it take, to heal it all?
What does it take, why can’t
Words ever try to tie that knot,
Rejoin what has frayed apart?
Why can’t there be a reunion,
Even after lessons are learnt?
What does it take to replace,
The hatred, to make right what is frayed?
It’s frayed, no glue can fix it,
It’s frayed, what will mend it?
Is it enough, just to repent?
Should I do more, what should I lend?
What will make it right, what has been frayed?
What will make it feel like I never betrayed?
Why does it have to be so hard, to reconstruct,
Why do I have to be this adrift?
Is it…..still frayed?
10:46 pm, 17th January, 2010.
Endeavour
Things that never last,
Are of little significance to this world,
Things buried in the past,
Are not inconsequent matters.
So, baby, Endeavour,
Enduring, human experience,
Workin’ hard to capture the essence,
I know it’s not pleasant,
All I know is how to repent,
So, baby, Endeavour.
Unforgotten, and unleashed,
Not bound, completely free,
And yet, caged, and so displeased,
It’s like a new era, a whole new creed.
So, baby, Endeavour.
One is free, the other ain’t,
One is happy, the other is tainted,
One, is living, fully, and happily,
The other, in guilt, is languishing,
So, baby, Endeavour.
I won’t say endure, because that’s not you,
It’s supposed to be me, who always knew,
That the fault was hers, and hers alone,
It’s not yours, I have sworn.
So, baby, Endeavour.
Left alone, and just so behind,
I am not confident, know no valor,
I’m not so balanced, and so stable,
I’m not a rebel, but I’m human.
So, baby, Endeavour.
10:43 pm, 17th January, 2010.
Are of little significance to this world,
Things buried in the past,
Are not inconsequent matters.
So, baby, Endeavour,
Enduring, human experience,
Workin’ hard to capture the essence,
I know it’s not pleasant,
All I know is how to repent,
So, baby, Endeavour.
Unforgotten, and unleashed,
Not bound, completely free,
And yet, caged, and so displeased,
It’s like a new era, a whole new creed.
So, baby, Endeavour.
One is free, the other ain’t,
One is happy, the other is tainted,
One, is living, fully, and happily,
The other, in guilt, is languishing,
So, baby, Endeavour.
I won’t say endure, because that’s not you,
It’s supposed to be me, who always knew,
That the fault was hers, and hers alone,
It’s not yours, I have sworn.
So, baby, Endeavour.
Left alone, and just so behind,
I am not confident, know no valor,
I’m not so balanced, and so stable,
I’m not a rebel, but I’m human.
So, baby, Endeavour.
10:43 pm, 17th January, 2010.
Thank You
Ecstasy, panic and remembered promises,
Lost good-byes, and so many silent wishes,
I had reminisced, I have writhed…
Lonesome and encumbered, I had remembered…
How I never said Thank you, for being there,
For being my angel, for being so eager to share,
For the forgotten moments in the backbenches,
For the cheer, the comfort which healed all the scars.
How could I not have thanked you, for being so understanding,
For reaching across, for not being demanding,
For the stable comfort, for erasing all the pain,
For healing the cruel memories, that pricked the tormented brain?
How could I have not thanked you, for all your sympathy?
For being the one who knew, that I was deeper than the world could see?
For all the extra confidence, for the good advice,
For being just so yourself, strong and wise!
For those long talks on the phone, just to make me feel alright,
For making me feel so special, beautiful and bright,
For knowing that I was more beautiful than I had meant to be,
For showing me the magic, for helping me to see,
For being my guide, and a solid shoulder,
For showing me what really mattered….
How could I not be grateful, for someone so special?
For someone who had thought that she was forever invisible!
For someone so gentle, caring and concerned in his ways,
You have transformed me, in more than a million ways.
How could I have never thanked you, for making me feel wanted,
When I was so hopelessly lost , timid and dejected,
For holding my hand, for helping me hang on,
When the world felt dark, and I needed someone.
For telling me so many stories, for telling me I wasn’t inferior
For telling me I wasn’t wrong, the world was just cruel,
For opening my eyes, for the refreshing optimism,
For bouncing along, to my little quirks and wrongs,
So, I thought I’d let you know,
How you painted my life, in ways more everlasting than a rainbow,
So, here is a heartfelt thank you,
For everything you have ever been to me….
10:28, 17th January, 2010.
Lost good-byes, and so many silent wishes,
I had reminisced, I have writhed…
Lonesome and encumbered, I had remembered…
How I never said Thank you, for being there,
For being my angel, for being so eager to share,
For the forgotten moments in the backbenches,
For the cheer, the comfort which healed all the scars.
How could I not have thanked you, for being so understanding,
For reaching across, for not being demanding,
For the stable comfort, for erasing all the pain,
For healing the cruel memories, that pricked the tormented brain?
How could I have not thanked you, for all your sympathy?
For being the one who knew, that I was deeper than the world could see?
For all the extra confidence, for the good advice,
For being just so yourself, strong and wise!
For those long talks on the phone, just to make me feel alright,
For making me feel so special, beautiful and bright,
For knowing that I was more beautiful than I had meant to be,
For showing me the magic, for helping me to see,
For being my guide, and a solid shoulder,
For showing me what really mattered….
How could I not be grateful, for someone so special?
For someone who had thought that she was forever invisible!
For someone so gentle, caring and concerned in his ways,
You have transformed me, in more than a million ways.
How could I have never thanked you, for making me feel wanted,
When I was so hopelessly lost , timid and dejected,
For holding my hand, for helping me hang on,
When the world felt dark, and I needed someone.
For telling me so many stories, for telling me I wasn’t inferior
For telling me I wasn’t wrong, the world was just cruel,
For opening my eyes, for the refreshing optimism,
For bouncing along, to my little quirks and wrongs,
So, I thought I’d let you know,
How you painted my life, in ways more everlasting than a rainbow,
So, here is a heartfelt thank you,
For everything you have ever been to me….
10:28, 17th January, 2010.
Unfold and Untold
The timid heart shuddered as it walked invisible,
For who would have ever thought that she was someone special?
So meek, alert and disciplined in her ways,
She never thought that there would come another day…
How could the magic unfold?
But he was different, he always understood,
He could read all her stories, like she was an open book,
Mysteries buried in quagmires of thought,
Were unraveled, although she never thought…
But still, she questioned, how could the magic ever unfold?
With a touch of his brilliance, he had transformed,
Her world with myriad hues and colors, she was charmed,
By the sincerity in those eyes, and elegance, naturally built,
By the warmth and comfort that were genuinely his,
But still she questioned, how could the magic unfold?
Practical, headstrong, and graceful was he,
But also keen, and just so friendly,
Ambitious dreams, so fearlessly confessed,
With his gentle ways, he had impressed,
But although he was sure, she had maintained…
How could the magic ever unfold?
Perfection so endearing, it was hard to believe,
That it was all so small and difficult to receive,
Miss invisible was edgy, always so unsure,
But he had held on, insistent and persuasive,
And yet, it was hard to believe…
All you ever wanted—was me?
There were days when she was bogged down,
Caught in situations, in life’s twists and turns,
And as she wriggled, lonesome and depressed
He had once, softly said,
That he was grateful that she there,
And without her, the word wouldn’t be the same.
Although she was forever enamored by him,
She never felt so strong,
So beautiful, so wanted, so special,
That day, she tasted the magic, and saw it unfold,
It was ecstasy, experienced like never before.
Soft songs, repeated, memories became smiling treasures,
Passions relived, darkness swept away and forgotten,
Miss invisible was smitten,
But she is today, unforgiven.
10:18 pm, 17th January, 2010.
For who would have ever thought that she was someone special?
So meek, alert and disciplined in her ways,
She never thought that there would come another day…
How could the magic unfold?
But he was different, he always understood,
He could read all her stories, like she was an open book,
Mysteries buried in quagmires of thought,
Were unraveled, although she never thought…
But still, she questioned, how could the magic ever unfold?
With a touch of his brilliance, he had transformed,
Her world with myriad hues and colors, she was charmed,
By the sincerity in those eyes, and elegance, naturally built,
By the warmth and comfort that were genuinely his,
But still she questioned, how could the magic unfold?
Practical, headstrong, and graceful was he,
But also keen, and just so friendly,
Ambitious dreams, so fearlessly confessed,
With his gentle ways, he had impressed,
But although he was sure, she had maintained…
How could the magic ever unfold?
Perfection so endearing, it was hard to believe,
That it was all so small and difficult to receive,
Miss invisible was edgy, always so unsure,
But he had held on, insistent and persuasive,
And yet, it was hard to believe…
All you ever wanted—was me?
There were days when she was bogged down,
Caught in situations, in life’s twists and turns,
And as she wriggled, lonesome and depressed
He had once, softly said,
That he was grateful that she there,
And without her, the word wouldn’t be the same.
Although she was forever enamored by him,
She never felt so strong,
So beautiful, so wanted, so special,
That day, she tasted the magic, and saw it unfold,
It was ecstasy, experienced like never before.
Soft songs, repeated, memories became smiling treasures,
Passions relived, darkness swept away and forgotten,
Miss invisible was smitten,
But she is today, unforgiven.
10:18 pm, 17th January, 2010.
Different
You were different in every way,
You stood out; you were not the same,
There was something about you that gave away,
That you were different, your smile would say.
You were different, and beyond description,
Oh how can I elucidate?
I cannot make my feelings clear,
But all I know is that you were so different, from the rest.
And different turned life too, in company,
Of somebody so different, it was enchanting,
It was dark before, so depressing,
But in your company, all that was disappearing.
I had been plagued by my past, which had kept returning,
Horrible school days, when I had been crying,
For friends, when I didn’t have any,
Hope that life would ever be fair to me.
You had made a difference to me, your presence,
Had changed something, had knocked some sense,
Into me. Yes, there was something to you that was so peculiar,
Something so distinctly individual.
But yes, you shared, you told me,
Even if you didn’t, I understood your philosophy,
And it was something new to me, something pleasing,
And it changed me, gave me confidence.
Yes, you made a profound difference to my life,
Do you remember that wonderful morn of July?
When I had first seen you, and had instantly knew,
That the difference was here, to do away with my blues.
1:57 pm, 16th January, 2010.
You stood out; you were not the same,
There was something about you that gave away,
That you were different, your smile would say.
You were different, and beyond description,
Oh how can I elucidate?
I cannot make my feelings clear,
But all I know is that you were so different, from the rest.
And different turned life too, in company,
Of somebody so different, it was enchanting,
It was dark before, so depressing,
But in your company, all that was disappearing.
I had been plagued by my past, which had kept returning,
Horrible school days, when I had been crying,
For friends, when I didn’t have any,
Hope that life would ever be fair to me.
You had made a difference to me, your presence,
Had changed something, had knocked some sense,
Into me. Yes, there was something to you that was so peculiar,
Something so distinctly individual.
But yes, you shared, you told me,
Even if you didn’t, I understood your philosophy,
And it was something new to me, something pleasing,
And it changed me, gave me confidence.
Yes, you made a profound difference to my life,
Do you remember that wonderful morn of July?
When I had first seen you, and had instantly knew,
That the difference was here, to do away with my blues.
1:57 pm, 16th January, 2010.
Another Day
It’s another day, and I’m thinking of another time,
My coffee is fresh, and they are singing, the wind chimes,
I’m supposed to be here, stuck in the present,
But I’m returning to the past, even if it isn’t pleasant.
It’s another day, and moves on the time,
Everybody does their work, finally settles down,
The days change, with the seasons, summer’s gone,
My world grows, but I don’t trot along.
I’m supposed to be here, concentrating,
Giving my best shot, striving,
There is much to do, at the end of another day,
But to write to you, I will not forget.
I have chores, I have responsibilities,
I have to fulfill so many duties,
It’s tiring, and sometimes frustrating,
But amidst all that, I’m not ignoring.
Let there be stress, let there be strain,
Let me be weary, at the end of another day,
But I should sleep with the satisfaction,
That every day, I’m contributing to make a difference.
The difference, I’m hoping will happen,
And that is how hard I’m working,
Every other day, when I find the time,
I scribble to you, even amidst my every strife.
Another day ends, another begins,
I taste the rich flavor, seething hot coffee I drink,
The wind chimes and I continue to do my duties,
But at the corner of my notebook, another song I’m scribbling.
1:45 pm, 16th January, 2010.
My coffee is fresh, and they are singing, the wind chimes,
I’m supposed to be here, stuck in the present,
But I’m returning to the past, even if it isn’t pleasant.
It’s another day, and moves on the time,
Everybody does their work, finally settles down,
The days change, with the seasons, summer’s gone,
My world grows, but I don’t trot along.
I’m supposed to be here, concentrating,
Giving my best shot, striving,
There is much to do, at the end of another day,
But to write to you, I will not forget.
I have chores, I have responsibilities,
I have to fulfill so many duties,
It’s tiring, and sometimes frustrating,
But amidst all that, I’m not ignoring.
Let there be stress, let there be strain,
Let me be weary, at the end of another day,
But I should sleep with the satisfaction,
That every day, I’m contributing to make a difference.
The difference, I’m hoping will happen,
And that is how hard I’m working,
Every other day, when I find the time,
I scribble to you, even amidst my every strife.
Another day ends, another begins,
I taste the rich flavor, seething hot coffee I drink,
The wind chimes and I continue to do my duties,
But at the corner of my notebook, another song I’m scribbling.
1:45 pm, 16th January, 2010.
Flawless
Flawed was I, but you were flawless,
Stupid was I, but intelligent you stayed,
Depraved was, I, disorderly and grave,
Infirm was I, so complex and vague.
Aha, but flawless were you, in every activity,
Your beauty of character shined forth, such was your personality,
Benign and gentle, and just so loving,
Affectionate but not small, and so giving.
Generous, through my own eyes I had seen,
How you had such sympathy!!
You held true empathy, to every single being,
You gave, selflessly, you weren’t calculative.
Yes, I had seen you, I was so appreciative,
Of this particular trait of yours, a special quality,
It made you remarkable, you are praiseworthy,
But I guess I wasn’t worthy enough, I was unworthy.
Yes you were flawless, from your gait to smile,
I admired so many characteristics, but I had still lied,
I’m sorry I did that, you were so untarnished,
But tarnish you, did I?
Aha, I know it hurts, when you are perfect and untainted,
When such a wonderful person, I had hurt so deep,
I know how it feels, even if it wasn’t me,
Who was experiencing it, but I still know how it feels.
Because I can put you in my shoes, I know how to do that,
I know it was so wrong of me, I know it hurts,
Because you were flawless, and so you should remain,
So please be forgiving, I won’t hurt you ever, I shall refrain.
1:13 am, 16th January, 2010.
Stupid was I, but intelligent you stayed,
Depraved was, I, disorderly and grave,
Infirm was I, so complex and vague.
Aha, but flawless were you, in every activity,
Your beauty of character shined forth, such was your personality,
Benign and gentle, and just so loving,
Affectionate but not small, and so giving.
Generous, through my own eyes I had seen,
How you had such sympathy!!
You held true empathy, to every single being,
You gave, selflessly, you weren’t calculative.
Yes, I had seen you, I was so appreciative,
Of this particular trait of yours, a special quality,
It made you remarkable, you are praiseworthy,
But I guess I wasn’t worthy enough, I was unworthy.
Yes you were flawless, from your gait to smile,
I admired so many characteristics, but I had still lied,
I’m sorry I did that, you were so untarnished,
But tarnish you, did I?
Aha, I know it hurts, when you are perfect and untainted,
When such a wonderful person, I had hurt so deep,
I know how it feels, even if it wasn’t me,
Who was experiencing it, but I still know how it feels.
Because I can put you in my shoes, I know how to do that,
I know it was so wrong of me, I know it hurts,
Because you were flawless, and so you should remain,
So please be forgiving, I won’t hurt you ever, I shall refrain.
1:13 am, 16th January, 2010.
Blindfolded.
HOW does it feel to be blindfolded, when you are already unseeing?
How does it feel to be neglected, when you are already grieving?
Additional bullets, when you are already bleeding?
Blindfolded, into darkness, falling.
That is exactly how it feels to me, I am writhing,
That is how sorry I am, I am not unfeeling,
That is how the remorse kills me, burning,
That is how much this is hurting.
Because I’m sorry, just so sorry for what I did,
I shouldn’t have done that, so I’m repenting my deed,
I know we can’t leave the past behind, it is so integral,
It shapes us, defining who we are.
The past haunts me, does it haunt you too?
Do you feel hurt, for what I did to you?
I know that it’s not easy to leave everything behind,
But I’m begging you for another chance, please do try!
It’s not easy to forget, to effortlessly let go,
It’s not easy not to feel anything at all,
But I’m wishing that you sincerely try,
And leave all this behind.
How can I leave it behind, when it pains so much?
You might say, and I know I’m asking too much,
But please do, somehow!
Because I just want to remove the blindfold….
My eyes hurt now, under the black veil,
They long to see their best friend; they don’t want to see in Braille,
They want to see you, to see the warmth of compassion,
Smiling back at them, when they are forgiven.
1:31 pm, 16th January 2010.
How does it feel to be neglected, when you are already grieving?
Additional bullets, when you are already bleeding?
Blindfolded, into darkness, falling.
That is exactly how it feels to me, I am writhing,
That is how sorry I am, I am not unfeeling,
That is how the remorse kills me, burning,
That is how much this is hurting.
Because I’m sorry, just so sorry for what I did,
I shouldn’t have done that, so I’m repenting my deed,
I know we can’t leave the past behind, it is so integral,
It shapes us, defining who we are.
The past haunts me, does it haunt you too?
Do you feel hurt, for what I did to you?
I know that it’s not easy to leave everything behind,
But I’m begging you for another chance, please do try!
It’s not easy to forget, to effortlessly let go,
It’s not easy not to feel anything at all,
But I’m wishing that you sincerely try,
And leave all this behind.
How can I leave it behind, when it pains so much?
You might say, and I know I’m asking too much,
But please do, somehow!
Because I just want to remove the blindfold….
My eyes hurt now, under the black veil,
They long to see their best friend; they don’t want to see in Braille,
They want to see you, to see the warmth of compassion,
Smiling back at them, when they are forgiven.
1:31 pm, 16th January 2010.
Guilty
I was no artist, I didn’t know how to play,
I was no athlete, I wasn’t in the game,
I quit before it was time,
Before I played, goodbye I bade.
Because I was scared, see? To venture into games.
It’s better to scream from the stadium, and my voice to rise,
In support, calling so distantly,
And yet stay near, possibly.
I had no courage, and I never admitted that,
I beat around the bush, I didn’t venture,
Because I don’t know what to do, I usually stall,
I guess that’s why I’m so unforgiven.
You know, I’m sorry, how can I convince?
Maybe I should just fall to your feet,
How else can I show my remorse, and regret?
How much more pathetic can this get?
Wrongs, crimes and so many faults,
Yes, I was just so flawed!
Yes, I was a sneak, so scandalous,
I was so proud, villainy, I showed.
I know today, that I infringed,
I understand how much I breached,
I kept my toe out of line,
And with guilt, fault intertwined.
Aha, it seeps now, into every nerve,
Flowing, the conscience, invading,
I cannot skip past it, I cannot swerve,
Resigned I am, to verdict, cruel.
12:56 am, 16th January, 2010.
I was no athlete, I wasn’t in the game,
I quit before it was time,
Before I played, goodbye I bade.
Because I was scared, see? To venture into games.
It’s better to scream from the stadium, and my voice to rise,
In support, calling so distantly,
And yet stay near, possibly.
I had no courage, and I never admitted that,
I beat around the bush, I didn’t venture,
Because I don’t know what to do, I usually stall,
I guess that’s why I’m so unforgiven.
You know, I’m sorry, how can I convince?
Maybe I should just fall to your feet,
How else can I show my remorse, and regret?
How much more pathetic can this get?
Wrongs, crimes and so many faults,
Yes, I was just so flawed!
Yes, I was a sneak, so scandalous,
I was so proud, villainy, I showed.
I know today, that I infringed,
I understand how much I breached,
I kept my toe out of line,
And with guilt, fault intertwined.
Aha, it seeps now, into every nerve,
Flowing, the conscience, invading,
I cannot skip past it, I cannot swerve,
Resigned I am, to verdict, cruel.
12:56 am, 16th January, 2010.
Futile Games
As words within me scurry,
To and fro, in such a hurry,
I cast away, all my worries,
And delight myself, in memory.
They tickle me sometimes, they are as sweet as you,
They play with me sometimes, adorable and cute,
Those little words, which have no meaning,
They are born of my growing memories.
When I think of you, it is such things, that spring,
And as words scurry, so quick, lending,
More to my paper, they tell me everything,
Sometimes it is those nonsense words that set this going.
These words, are like secrets, like our little quirks,
There words are not profound, in my head, they lurk,
Purely different words, English doesn’t know them,
When I think of you, invented is a new language.
Words which say all the sweet things, words which connected,
Words which spoke of great things, to soul, dejected,
Words that now scurry, playing cat and mouse,
Quickly tap my fingers, oh, it’s such a rush!!
But are they all that’s left, only mere words?
Only in black and white, on stale paper?
Won’t your voice ring through then, clear?
Why do you have to be so distant, so far?
Oh, words, they can scurry, they can play,
They can occasionally amuse, but they cannot drain,
The emptiness that occupies, the sorrow that spreads,
They cannot take that away, try they may.
So, speak to me, please, words always can’t
Replace the voice, that once was,
So cheerful and pleasant in my ear,
Come back, please, reappear.
12:43 am, 16th January, 2010.
To and fro, in such a hurry,
I cast away, all my worries,
And delight myself, in memory.
They tickle me sometimes, they are as sweet as you,
They play with me sometimes, adorable and cute,
Those little words, which have no meaning,
They are born of my growing memories.
When I think of you, it is such things, that spring,
And as words scurry, so quick, lending,
More to my paper, they tell me everything,
Sometimes it is those nonsense words that set this going.
These words, are like secrets, like our little quirks,
There words are not profound, in my head, they lurk,
Purely different words, English doesn’t know them,
When I think of you, invented is a new language.
Words which say all the sweet things, words which connected,
Words which spoke of great things, to soul, dejected,
Words that now scurry, playing cat and mouse,
Quickly tap my fingers, oh, it’s such a rush!!
But are they all that’s left, only mere words?
Only in black and white, on stale paper?
Won’t your voice ring through then, clear?
Why do you have to be so distant, so far?
Oh, words, they can scurry, they can play,
They can occasionally amuse, but they cannot drain,
The emptiness that occupies, the sorrow that spreads,
They cannot take that away, try they may.
So, speak to me, please, words always can’t
Replace the voice, that once was,
So cheerful and pleasant in my ear,
Come back, please, reappear.
12:43 am, 16th January, 2010.
Hibiscus
On midsummer’s day, as hours trickled past,
I ventured into tropical garden, at last,
A favorite flower I spotted,
Hibiscus, tempting and red.
The perfect flower, the best there was,
With floral petals spread out,
It smiled my way, just so soft,
Tender, and vivacious, it laughed.
I joined in, taken in,
By beauty, so startling,
The flower so perfect, adorning,
I stood there, mesmerized and admiring.
There were other flowers in the garden,
But I couldn’t see,
Petunias, begonias and green pea,
Growing plants of the garden, but they weren’t pretty.
‘twas only the hibiscus that appealed to me,
The one to which sunbirds returned, thronging,
The one who delighted, with vibrant colors,
The one that stood apart, sweet was the nectar.
The hibiscus is such a difficult flower,
To fully describe in entirety,
The one, that held all the power,
To melt another heart, completely.
Such was the hibiscus, and I was amazed,
I never saw it wilt, although I wilted away,
The garden, as I passed, I longingly looked back,
At the hibiscus trilling to midsummer rain.
12:31 am, 16th January, 2010.
I ventured into tropical garden, at last,
A favorite flower I spotted,
Hibiscus, tempting and red.
The perfect flower, the best there was,
With floral petals spread out,
It smiled my way, just so soft,
Tender, and vivacious, it laughed.
I joined in, taken in,
By beauty, so startling,
The flower so perfect, adorning,
I stood there, mesmerized and admiring.
There were other flowers in the garden,
But I couldn’t see,
Petunias, begonias and green pea,
Growing plants of the garden, but they weren’t pretty.
‘twas only the hibiscus that appealed to me,
The one to which sunbirds returned, thronging,
The one who delighted, with vibrant colors,
The one that stood apart, sweet was the nectar.
The hibiscus is such a difficult flower,
To fully describe in entirety,
The one, that held all the power,
To melt another heart, completely.
Such was the hibiscus, and I was amazed,
I never saw it wilt, although I wilted away,
The garden, as I passed, I longingly looked back,
At the hibiscus trilling to midsummer rain.
12:31 am, 16th January, 2010.
And then
I was happy and then
I was content and then
I was silly and then
I was impudent and then…..
When did the now, become an and then?
Oh answer me, when was it, when?
Oh, from where do I begin?
When did beginning see and end?
I was stupid, and then,
I also turned so stubborn,
Aha, but it questions me time and again,
Why did the now become an and then?
Why did it have to be an “and then”
When it didn’t have to see an end?
When did unhappiness creep into my den?
Altering, and changing course?
And then again, there you are,
Begone and yet not gone,
And then again, here I am,
Show me some sympathy.
We were friends, such good ones, and then….
We exchanged so many mails, and then,
I lied behind your back and then….
The now became an and then….
12:20 am, 16th January, 2010.
I was content and then
I was silly and then
I was impudent and then…..
When did the now, become an and then?
Oh answer me, when was it, when?
Oh, from where do I begin?
When did beginning see and end?
I was stupid, and then,
I also turned so stubborn,
Aha, but it questions me time and again,
Why did the now become an and then?
Why did it have to be an “and then”
When it didn’t have to see an end?
When did unhappiness creep into my den?
Altering, and changing course?
And then again, there you are,
Begone and yet not gone,
And then again, here I am,
Show me some sympathy.
We were friends, such good ones, and then….
We exchanged so many mails, and then,
I lied behind your back and then….
The now became an and then….
12:20 am, 16th January, 2010.
When we had been smiling
There were days, when we had been smiling,
Over small inconsequential things
And now, the smile ain’t forming,
Frowns are replacing.
I’m sorry to be acting this depressed,
I have no right to be,
Burdening you with my woes,
But I ain’t smiling.
Because when guilt is behind your back,
Always staying there, pricking,
How can I giggle, how can I feel like laughing?
When everything is just so wrong?
How can I smile, without ever correcting?
The mistakes along my way, erasing,
How can I smile, without understanding,
That it requires some effort to undo what hath been done?
My smile, had been my asset,
I don’t know who took it away, maybe it was me,
Aha, gone it is now, just like you,
To laugh again, seems impossible.
Until you forgive of course, until you say yes,
That you forgive me for all my mistakes,
Then you can see my smile,
See the light back on my face.
So we may laugh like our carefree days,
When things were so sweet,
So that we make keep in memories,
How good friends we were!!!
12:11 am, 16th January, 2010.
Over small inconsequential things
And now, the smile ain’t forming,
Frowns are replacing.
I’m sorry to be acting this depressed,
I have no right to be,
Burdening you with my woes,
But I ain’t smiling.
Because when guilt is behind your back,
Always staying there, pricking,
How can I giggle, how can I feel like laughing?
When everything is just so wrong?
How can I smile, without ever correcting?
The mistakes along my way, erasing,
How can I smile, without understanding,
That it requires some effort to undo what hath been done?
My smile, had been my asset,
I don’t know who took it away, maybe it was me,
Aha, gone it is now, just like you,
To laugh again, seems impossible.
Until you forgive of course, until you say yes,
That you forgive me for all my mistakes,
Then you can see my smile,
See the light back on my face.
So we may laugh like our carefree days,
When things were so sweet,
So that we make keep in memories,
How good friends we were!!!
12:11 am, 16th January, 2010.
20 pages
Once upon a time, I very well remember,
That 20 pages had been asked,
20 pages written in love,
20 pages, I had promised.
20 pages, with words to describe,
How you made life paradise,
20 pages to fully capture,
The essence of man who had enraptured.
20 pages, written in hand,
20 pages, from my pen,
20 pages, full of scribbles,
20 pages, full of love.
I had tried to write that 20 then,
Quickly, as soon as possible,
But to capture you had failed my pen,
No matter how hard I had tried.
20 pages, when you had asked,
I thought I could do much better,
Why not more than 25, I had thought,
For my best friend on this planet?
Why not a book, why not a trifle more,
It would be trivial, thought my pen, but it was wrong,
You were perfect enigma, the perfect mystery,
The 20 pages couldn’t fully describe, my own pen cheated me.
Oh, when I was so in love, when I thought this was life,
When I was so young, and so unabashed,
When I didn’t know how to behave, what would hurt,
When I didn’t know relationships, when I was innocent…..
20 pages to you, I could not complete,
20 pages to you, I had written, like burden,
But when all is lost, when I’m abandoned,
I can write you 20 more, without a reason.
Not 20 now, this time, a 100,
I can write, this is incredible, moves my pen,
I could write books now, so much more,
Because when you left, only then did I realize how much you meant.
You meant everything to me, now I know,
You were everything to me, I never thought this much,
Back then, it was uncomplicated and simple,
But now, my remorse is not something trivial.
So, more than 20 I have written,
Hoping to be forgiven,
This is showing how precious you are to me,
You are perfect enigma, the 20 pages shall never reach….
4:53 pm, 13th January, 2010.
That 20 pages had been asked,
20 pages written in love,
20 pages, I had promised.
20 pages, with words to describe,
How you made life paradise,
20 pages to fully capture,
The essence of man who had enraptured.
20 pages, written in hand,
20 pages, from my pen,
20 pages, full of scribbles,
20 pages, full of love.
I had tried to write that 20 then,
Quickly, as soon as possible,
But to capture you had failed my pen,
No matter how hard I had tried.
20 pages, when you had asked,
I thought I could do much better,
Why not more than 25, I had thought,
For my best friend on this planet?
Why not a book, why not a trifle more,
It would be trivial, thought my pen, but it was wrong,
You were perfect enigma, the perfect mystery,
The 20 pages couldn’t fully describe, my own pen cheated me.
Oh, when I was so in love, when I thought this was life,
When I was so young, and so unabashed,
When I didn’t know how to behave, what would hurt,
When I didn’t know relationships, when I was innocent…..
20 pages to you, I could not complete,
20 pages to you, I had written, like burden,
But when all is lost, when I’m abandoned,
I can write you 20 more, without a reason.
Not 20 now, this time, a 100,
I can write, this is incredible, moves my pen,
I could write books now, so much more,
Because when you left, only then did I realize how much you meant.
You meant everything to me, now I know,
You were everything to me, I never thought this much,
Back then, it was uncomplicated and simple,
But now, my remorse is not something trivial.
So, more than 20 I have written,
Hoping to be forgiven,
This is showing how precious you are to me,
You are perfect enigma, the 20 pages shall never reach….
4:53 pm, 13th January, 2010.
Spy
Do you know how often I revisit
The times of yore, and reconsider?
Do you know how often I spy,
When you are unknowing, in deep in slumber?
Do you know how often I go to your profile,
Once again, and peep at memories,
Staring back at me, I know I cannot change it, I’m puerile,
But I still go back, to you, to all we were.
I spy those pictures that we took carelessly,
Those moments frozen in half smiles,
Light hearted and just so carefree,
Those moments were so important, even my camera didn’t know then.
I try to visit your profile, to see what you do,
I shouldn’t be spying this much, but I’m just
So obsessed with you, I cannot stop myself,
Oh what do I do? I just cannot get rid of you!
I spy you everywhere, yes I do,
Every little strand of memory that holds you,
I clutch at you greedily, even if I don’t have a right to,
Because it has ended in air of finality.
Then why is it that I refuse to believe?
Why do I delude myself, disbelieve?
Why am I so caught up, why do I step behind,
Why can’t I move forward, why am I stuck in quagmire?
Oh, why do I spy like that, when I know you don’t want to answer,
When I know you consider me someone evil,
But please, I beg you now, I don’t want to just spy,
I want you to talk, my angel, I want you back!!
4:40 pm, 13th January, 2010.
The times of yore, and reconsider?
Do you know how often I spy,
When you are unknowing, in deep in slumber?
Do you know how often I go to your profile,
Once again, and peep at memories,
Staring back at me, I know I cannot change it, I’m puerile,
But I still go back, to you, to all we were.
I spy those pictures that we took carelessly,
Those moments frozen in half smiles,
Light hearted and just so carefree,
Those moments were so important, even my camera didn’t know then.
I try to visit your profile, to see what you do,
I shouldn’t be spying this much, but I’m just
So obsessed with you, I cannot stop myself,
Oh what do I do? I just cannot get rid of you!
I spy you everywhere, yes I do,
Every little strand of memory that holds you,
I clutch at you greedily, even if I don’t have a right to,
Because it has ended in air of finality.
Then why is it that I refuse to believe?
Why do I delude myself, disbelieve?
Why am I so caught up, why do I step behind,
Why can’t I move forward, why am I stuck in quagmire?
Oh, why do I spy like that, when I know you don’t want to answer,
When I know you consider me someone evil,
But please, I beg you now, I don’t want to just spy,
I want you to talk, my angel, I want you back!!
4:40 pm, 13th January, 2010.
Last Talk
The talk concluded, but so much remained unsaid.
Mute voices remain, calling when it all over.
Singing to me, groaning sometimes,
Questioning, and not finding an answer.
I don’t know how to be a poet, my dear,
I don’t know how to be right.
But today, here I am,
Finding meaning in my rhyme,
Aha, that last talk, do you remember?
The one which was hostile, even in whisper?
It was the talk, talked, in only words,
Words which escaped, but weren’t mouthed.
It was a talk, its arena, a blank screen,
A talk in black and white, it was my very words, which had screamed,
Oh no, this just cannot be!
But it had concluded, and brown had turned the green.
It had remained glaring, for many seconds afterwards,
The screen, so black now, so luminiscent, the opposite,
Of the hollowness I had began to feel,
How is it that words ever assumed this potency?
Words were my best friends, with them I toyed,
They were my messengers, they were my swords,
But when mine own swords become pricing daggers,
Where do I turn, what choice do I have but to feel the burn?
My own words, spoken and unspoken,
Told me so many things, in every single verse,
But it was the lack of them, that had turned,
My paradise into living hell.
Now in this simmering cauldron,
Swim words, so many,
And yet, in wild abandon,
Unspoken in the growing agony.
2:13 am, 11th January, 2010.
Mute voices remain, calling when it all over.
Singing to me, groaning sometimes,
Questioning, and not finding an answer.
I don’t know how to be a poet, my dear,
I don’t know how to be right.
But today, here I am,
Finding meaning in my rhyme,
Aha, that last talk, do you remember?
The one which was hostile, even in whisper?
It was the talk, talked, in only words,
Words which escaped, but weren’t mouthed.
It was a talk, its arena, a blank screen,
A talk in black and white, it was my very words, which had screamed,
Oh no, this just cannot be!
But it had concluded, and brown had turned the green.
It had remained glaring, for many seconds afterwards,
The screen, so black now, so luminiscent, the opposite,
Of the hollowness I had began to feel,
How is it that words ever assumed this potency?
Words were my best friends, with them I toyed,
They were my messengers, they were my swords,
But when mine own swords become pricing daggers,
Where do I turn, what choice do I have but to feel the burn?
My own words, spoken and unspoken,
Told me so many things, in every single verse,
But it was the lack of them, that had turned,
My paradise into living hell.
Now in this simmering cauldron,
Swim words, so many,
And yet, in wild abandon,
Unspoken in the growing agony.
2:13 am, 11th January, 2010.
I see you
I saw a movie yesterday,
Avatar, it was named,
Characters, came and went,
Painted bold, in imagination.
It was a different land, some bewitching place,
It was actually not there,
But even the virtual had felt so real,
It was an experience, it was surreal.
But even to heights as human imagination ventures,
Even if, so many things, it abhors,
Feelings, fundamental, it cannot ignore,
With emotions, intense, it cannot war.
So, into such a wild movie, they seeped,
Affection, because to audiences, it appeals,
Because when you talk of such things, movie’s sell,
All is happy, and all is well.
But when you analyze and go a little beyond,
You will see meaning, within the direction,
Drama appeals, because all humans need,
Emotional support in their life, for that they are made.
So just like her, I shall tell you my words,
I see you, friend, almost always,
She might be just an imaginary character,
You can perceive me a vision too, and you may answer.
I see you, today I say,
Because I fell in love with the phrase,
It’s just like our other emblems, other songs,
But then, this is unique, this isn’t long.
I see you, I do not know why,
I see you, because I do!
I see you, even when I’m blind,
I see you, so be kind.
1:03 am, 11th January, 2010.
Avatar, it was named,
Characters, came and went,
Painted bold, in imagination.
It was a different land, some bewitching place,
It was actually not there,
But even the virtual had felt so real,
It was an experience, it was surreal.
But even to heights as human imagination ventures,
Even if, so many things, it abhors,
Feelings, fundamental, it cannot ignore,
With emotions, intense, it cannot war.
So, into such a wild movie, they seeped,
Affection, because to audiences, it appeals,
Because when you talk of such things, movie’s sell,
All is happy, and all is well.
But when you analyze and go a little beyond,
You will see meaning, within the direction,
Drama appeals, because all humans need,
Emotional support in their life, for that they are made.
So just like her, I shall tell you my words,
I see you, friend, almost always,
She might be just an imaginary character,
You can perceive me a vision too, and you may answer.
I see you, today I say,
Because I fell in love with the phrase,
It’s just like our other emblems, other songs,
But then, this is unique, this isn’t long.
I see you, I do not know why,
I see you, because I do!
I see you, even when I’m blind,
I see you, so be kind.
1:03 am, 11th January, 2010.
Things unsaid
There is one thing I have never told you,
One day, as it rained, I had waited for you,
In the cold, hoping you would come around,
Even if you had been just so far.
Yes, in the cold, in sweater clad,
I had waited, hoping you would suddenly emerge,
Hoping that we could have held hands,
And walked homeward, together.
There is one thing that I have never told you,
When I was travelling in the car, I had remembered you,
Sitting there in the backseat and thinking,
How special you had been.
Yes, it was a monsoon’s evening, there had been a power-cut,
And I was dressed in a simple skirt,
By a lone lamp, I had stayed,
I had seen you, in flickering flame.
I have never told you that I had dreamed,
Of you falling into a manhole, dying,
I had woken up in the middle of the night sweating,
My salty tears, in terror, wiping.
As one day, the coconuts had swayed,
I had let my dreams too, sway,
And I had dreamt of grander things,
Life felt so ethereal, so vivid.
I have never told you so many things,
Time never gave me the opportunity,
You’ve only known my crueler side,
My cruel thoughts, you spied.
But in me, is also a shy dreamer,
Who wants to tell you the things she never told you before,
In me is the loving storyteller,
Who’s masterpiece is you, you are the one she adores.
12:51 am, 11th January, 2010.
One day, as it rained, I had waited for you,
In the cold, hoping you would come around,
Even if you had been just so far.
Yes, in the cold, in sweater clad,
I had waited, hoping you would suddenly emerge,
Hoping that we could have held hands,
And walked homeward, together.
There is one thing that I have never told you,
When I was travelling in the car, I had remembered you,
Sitting there in the backseat and thinking,
How special you had been.
Yes, it was a monsoon’s evening, there had been a power-cut,
And I was dressed in a simple skirt,
By a lone lamp, I had stayed,
I had seen you, in flickering flame.
I have never told you that I had dreamed,
Of you falling into a manhole, dying,
I had woken up in the middle of the night sweating,
My salty tears, in terror, wiping.
As one day, the coconuts had swayed,
I had let my dreams too, sway,
And I had dreamt of grander things,
Life felt so ethereal, so vivid.
I have never told you so many things,
Time never gave me the opportunity,
You’ve only known my crueler side,
My cruel thoughts, you spied.
But in me, is also a shy dreamer,
Who wants to tell you the things she never told you before,
In me is the loving storyteller,
Who’s masterpiece is you, you are the one she adores.
12:51 am, 11th January, 2010.
Inspiration
I sang 10 songs today, all to you,
My songbird sang, 9 and one more,
Ten today, at midnight hour,
All for you, friend.
I sang ten today, but I’m not proud,
I sang ten today, without a sound,
All I know is that my effort is sincere,
All I know is I’m frenzied, here.
It’s power friend, of different form,
It flows, suddenly the expression,
You are inspiration, you are the whole song!
You are the rhythm you are this whole blog!
The power is you, that rests on my pen,
The power is you, my catalyst,
The power is you, that never makes me rest,
The power is you, that makes me write in frenzy.
The power is you, your memory,
The power is you, your smile,
The power is in remembering,
And then to words, I’m converting.
It’s not easy, to write on other things,
It’s actually difficult, authoring,
But when I think of you it’s all easy,
Because you are my power, lifeblood to my pen.
Your memory burns strong, in every corner,
You are haunting inspiration to me,
It’s magical how much I can write,
Even when it’s past midnight.
I’m not gloating of my talents right now,
I’m just letting you know that you are my inspiration,
In every one of these 100 songs,
I cannot stop describing you, I cannot go beyond.
12:42 am, 11th January, 2010.
My songbird sang, 9 and one more,
Ten today, at midnight hour,
All for you, friend.
I sang ten today, but I’m not proud,
I sang ten today, without a sound,
All I know is that my effort is sincere,
All I know is I’m frenzied, here.
It’s power friend, of different form,
It flows, suddenly the expression,
You are inspiration, you are the whole song!
You are the rhythm you are this whole blog!
The power is you, that rests on my pen,
The power is you, my catalyst,
The power is you, that never makes me rest,
The power is you, that makes me write in frenzy.
The power is you, your memory,
The power is you, your smile,
The power is in remembering,
And then to words, I’m converting.
It’s not easy, to write on other things,
It’s actually difficult, authoring,
But when I think of you it’s all easy,
Because you are my power, lifeblood to my pen.
Your memory burns strong, in every corner,
You are haunting inspiration to me,
It’s magical how much I can write,
Even when it’s past midnight.
I’m not gloating of my talents right now,
I’m just letting you know that you are my inspiration,
In every one of these 100 songs,
I cannot stop describing you, I cannot go beyond.
12:42 am, 11th January, 2010.
Returning
I speak to you, even when you can’t hear,
I cling to you, even when you aren’t there,
I laugh with you, at the jokes you once made,
I sing to you, even when you are asleep.
I play with you, so many, imaginary games,
I dream with you, aspiring, it’s all the same,
I wait for you, every single day,
I hope for you, for you, pray.
I wish for your good health, sincerely,
Even if you are so away, and not listening,
I see you, whenever I want,
In reflections, I can conjure you.
When somebody else passes by,
Somebody with a slight beard, with their head held high,
I recognize you in them, I see your face,
Their rigid features, you replace.
When I dissolve into my favorite songs,
All my words sing of you,
Every lyric and every rhyme,
Tell your stories, of our times.
As I stare at random eyes,
I see yours, staring back,
As I gaze into the starlit skies,
I can discern your face, by connecting the dots.
When somebody speaks of anything beautiful,
You spring to mind, so enchanting,
Whenever, fresh air, I take a lungful,
You return, reminding.
12:34 pm, January, 10th 2010.
I cling to you, even when you aren’t there,
I laugh with you, at the jokes you once made,
I sing to you, even when you are asleep.
I play with you, so many, imaginary games,
I dream with you, aspiring, it’s all the same,
I wait for you, every single day,
I hope for you, for you, pray.
I wish for your good health, sincerely,
Even if you are so away, and not listening,
I see you, whenever I want,
In reflections, I can conjure you.
When somebody else passes by,
Somebody with a slight beard, with their head held high,
I recognize you in them, I see your face,
Their rigid features, you replace.
When I dissolve into my favorite songs,
All my words sing of you,
Every lyric and every rhyme,
Tell your stories, of our times.
As I stare at random eyes,
I see yours, staring back,
As I gaze into the starlit skies,
I can discern your face, by connecting the dots.
When somebody speaks of anything beautiful,
You spring to mind, so enchanting,
Whenever, fresh air, I take a lungful,
You return, reminding.
12:34 pm, January, 10th 2010.
Melt
It takes fire to melt iron,
And for cream, the stubborn sun,
It takes but little to melt,
But are you iron-willed?
It takes a spurn, to tame the horse,
It takes order, to subdue the laughs,
It takes authority, to order,
It takes skilled hands to solder.
But you can’t be tamed, your spirit is free,
You can’t take orders, I cannot order thee,
On you, I cannot establish my authority,
You are not metal, to solder.
Will you not melt, even after I tell you,
Even after I show you how sorry I am?
Will you not melt, the burning flame you don’t require,
All you need to do is listen to your heart.
I listen to mine, see, and I’m repentant,
I’ve understood all my mistakes,
And one by one, I fully confess,
All my mistakes, I am ashamed of them.
Please, be kind to me….even though I did a wrong,
I was a monster, but you don’t have to be one,
Please don’t be stubborn, it pricks me,
And I bleed, continually.
If I hurt you, should you hurt me?
But an eye for an eye, makes the world blind.
I did a wrong, should you too?
I was stupid, please don’t be unforgiving.
I beg for mercy, I beg for it!
My life is gone, please, forgive!
Forgive, I saw, my scream is loud,
Blaring, apparent, I’m howling, aloud!
12:27 pm, 11th January, 2010.
And for cream, the stubborn sun,
It takes but little to melt,
But are you iron-willed?
It takes a spurn, to tame the horse,
It takes order, to subdue the laughs,
It takes authority, to order,
It takes skilled hands to solder.
But you can’t be tamed, your spirit is free,
You can’t take orders, I cannot order thee,
On you, I cannot establish my authority,
You are not metal, to solder.
Will you not melt, even after I tell you,
Even after I show you how sorry I am?
Will you not melt, the burning flame you don’t require,
All you need to do is listen to your heart.
I listen to mine, see, and I’m repentant,
I’ve understood all my mistakes,
And one by one, I fully confess,
All my mistakes, I am ashamed of them.
Please, be kind to me….even though I did a wrong,
I was a monster, but you don’t have to be one,
Please don’t be stubborn, it pricks me,
And I bleed, continually.
If I hurt you, should you hurt me?
But an eye for an eye, makes the world blind.
I did a wrong, should you too?
I was stupid, please don’t be unforgiving.
I beg for mercy, I beg for it!
My life is gone, please, forgive!
Forgive, I saw, my scream is loud,
Blaring, apparent, I’m howling, aloud!
12:27 pm, 11th January, 2010.
Singing Along
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About Me
- Shadow
- ""Beauty is truth, truth beauty," – that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know..." said Keats. That, is the essence to the songbird's poetry. Welcome to my perch!