Thursday, 15 January 2015

I too have wings.


The sun wakes up,
For the dawn beacons
The dark wings of night
Have fluttered away.
The air is mellow
The grass green and pure
And daffodils blush slightly, too
For the dews have kissed them deep.
Birds, big and small,
Sing alike, a melody lovely
To their songs the bees hymn
Making a duet in an ethereal way.
Spreading its arms
The mountain stands high and proud
And with benevolence in their veins
The rivers merry tears weep.
As the sunrays
Join the dance of life
My heart leaps to the blooming branches
And I am delivered from strife.
The birds know it, too
And their chorus keeps caroling.
As I step out to embrace the earthly aroma
I too have wings.

To love her is to die.



When I made up my mind to write, I was thinking of writing a Valentines Day Poem but it turned out to be a sad monologue. This is what I wrote - 



Have you ever ran into someone you love whom you know you should not?  You are spel bound by the entire female charisma they have. Yet you pretend to be non-chalant for all the world to see. You tell yourself it is just infatuation and it would be alright. But in your heart of hearts, you know you are wrong. You can be non impassive on the outside, but not inside. You are that hard coconut that if penetrated, would be soft enough to break to pieces. Yet you wish, the liquid inside goes dry and you are alike on both sides. You might ignore them, or attend them less, but all your heart yearns is to break your own virtual shackles and be with them.
There are times they're so close to you that you get real serious you might blurt out your feelings. When you do, you make it appear one joke, and the very jocular yourself mocks the serious yourself. You portray yourself as one jolly-jocular-I-was-just-kidding-guy. They may not sense it, nor do your own senses, for your own numbness addles your brains and all you want is to run away. But then again, they're in your head wherever you go.
They do open up their heart. You want to console them, but you are cautious to stay as distant as possible; for you are afraid when you console them and tell them how much you care about them, they might still underestimate it. You want to say every possible thing to soothe them, but these daily comforts are so clich├ęd, you chuck it.
And what if they have feelings for someone else? What if you are their back up friend, the one with dry shoulders for their wet eyes? You know, even if your shoulders are dry, that thing in your rib cage isn't when they press their head against it. It cries with vigour more than the amplitude of your heartbeats, for even if your heart races it is nothing compared to the breaking dam of feelings. The worst part of it is when you know  they are heading towards a heartbreak but you don’t want to point it out lest they instead point out your jealousy. And if they do, would they feel for you? Would they notice your sullen eyes for the first time? And when they do, wont you already be heartless to them as their comeuppance? Would you be that willing, after all this time? Is that possible, or your foresight is playing along? Maybe, just maybe, life is being a bitch.
So you just say you are taken and do all that it takes to keep your equanimity a few seconds long enough just to burst into tears after they are gone, or rather, you have walked away. You are vaguely aware how your pride and prejudice has taken toll over you but you are not strong enugh to stop crying. You don’t become heartless, you just use your heartless.

To love them is to die, everyday.

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

Window of light.


How do I get rid of this ghost? I don’t know. The ghost is a shadow in the dark that has made me too vulnerable to light a torch. In the blurring brawl of my conundrums, I know I should be strong enough to stand against this ghost even if it afflicts me to the extent that I scratch and tear off my own skin. I should amass all the light of this world, all the valor I can muster to slit the deadly throat of this ghost. It haunts me. It is one tyrannical foe. A dilettante to agonize me, whose aim is to kill my spirit and shatter my equanimity, the head-high me that day by day craves to live a cheerful life. I am but a cripple, endeavoring to reach that window of light and it is a belligerent fiend that kicks me to death. Something deep, deep inside me admonishes me something. Something I cant hear. Something assuring a quantum of solace. My head is dizzy and all I want is this pain to end. All I pray to God now is to deliver me. I am buffeted in the ribbs suddenly by my enigmatic foe. He grows strong. I want to cry but tears wont come and I don’t cry lest this anathema mocks me. But there is this window in the farthest corner. The rays of light have defeated the darkness there and are still, as if beaconing me. I lay giving in. I should atleast try to stand. I should atleast stand. The vague song in the oblivion of my mind amplifies. It bolsters me, by words I don’t know. I am kicked and smacked as I stand, but I stand. It is as if walking in the snare of a giant spider. However this spider is human, I know somehow. I am closer to the window now. Closer. I trod with the time that is passing so slow that my ragged breathing could have made a thousand years. I have walked through him. I smile one twisted smile. I know because it takes an effort to smile. I have made that effort. I have. The foe is frail and I am strong. I scoff at him, distantly feeling the pain in my spine. I commence walking with a paradoxical pride. This pride is foreign. My shuffling self is long gone. As fast as it came, my smile fades away. I don’t see the window. I am in a hull of sheer darkness. Just the time when my deep breaths alter to shallow and adrenaline courses hard, my limbs are delibitated. I fall again. I don’t hear the song now. In a jolt I realize I didn’t hear it before I fell. I am a wretch again, now that I was healed. Or was I healed? I see it. A slit in the dark. I cripple towards it. I am digressed, often by the kicks on my head. But I don’t mind. It is not the time to mind. My gaze is pivoted at the light. My pain is mitigating, as though I am caressed by a swift breeze through that window. It is beautiful, I tell you, that window of light. It glows with grace just as I gaze with a smile, a smile distinct from the previous one. My callous enemy has lagged behind just as my hands are contentious to touch the window. I smile again, my smile coherently widening with the flow of light in the space, just so the intensity has driven the ghost in me again. It is a mirror.

Saturday, 10 January 2015

Prayer One.


Thou hast cast a light,
Over the tenebrous track,
That giveth me now a reason to smile.
Thou knowth, thou seeth,
The solitary spirit that is me;
Shall I ak for more, dear Lord?
Thou hast enlightened my sorry soul,
Bestowed upon me thy grace
Perchance my cupidity maketh me vile
So prithee answer me, O Samaritan,
Should I ever digress from this wise-path,
Would your eternal torch guide me, dear Lord?

Read love poems here.

Prayer One.


Thou hast cast a light,
Over the tenebrous track,
That giveth me now a reason to smile.
Thou knowth, thou seeth,
The solitary spirit that is me;
Shall I ak for more, dear Lord?
Thou hast enlightened my sorry soul,
Bestowed upon me thy grace
Perchance my cupidity maketh me vile
So prithee answer me, O Samaritan,
Should I ever digress from this wise-path,
Would your eternal torch guide me, dear Lord?

Read love poems here.