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.

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.

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.

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.

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.