Pleasant Presence

O mind of mine, why do you lurk in the past ?

When you ought to live in the present 

And build magnificent dreams for the future

I do see dreams, paving way to the future 

Yet they are all prejudiced by the past

Confounding my existence in the present 

O silly mind, life happens in the present

Only in its garden bloom flowers of future 

Not in the pleasured placebos of the past 

But in the pleasant presence of the present

Forgotten Fantasies

Some exchanged
Some estranged
Some received
Some deceived
A set of messages
Delicately treasured
In the depths
Of digital memory

Each of the tiny words
Written on electronic scrolls
Tenaciously teleporting
His thoughts
To a dream
Which was a paradise
To a realm

Which never existed 

It was a toy store

Which always enticed him

Anchoring him firmly 

To the pitches of past

Decking a smile on his face

Whenever he navigated 

The rhapsodical rail
of sugar coated words

A stern voice from within
Always warned him
To get rid of these
But another one would
Always hush it to silence
Until this day
When they disappeared
Forever lost beyond retrieval

He knew not what to do;
To rejoice at the achievement
Of obliviating an obvious obsession?
Or to regret at the loss
Of the most precious possession?
He sat there in numb trance
Silently admiring the rarity
Of a beautiful sadness



Prompted by Poetics : The Beautiful Sadness at dVerse Poets Pub by Stuart McPherson  and Wordle-68 by Brenda.

Et tu, Somnus!

Just when I need you the most
You vanish away like a ghost
I shout out your name in vain
For you have left me for my bane
My restless thoughts tremble
As a screaming silence ensembles

You never said you will be gone
Deserting me at the pits of Forlorn
Aren't you supposed to be my solace?
But instead you become my grimace
My head is beginning to pound
Yet there ain't any signs of you around

My eyes are burning for your sight
As I toggle myself from left to right
I can't stand this torment anymore
My patience has gone awfully sore
No strength left for more laments
I want you here this very moment

Without you my day would be all hazy
Nudging me to brink of being crazy
Tainting both my work and my play
I have no more words left to say
Come back you traitorous creep
I need you now O my dear sleep

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Prompted by Poetic Bloomings Prompt 65 - Betrayed 

Astute

A man who was very astute 

Never missed any chance to loot 

He did the same with Mr.Tardus 

Who got vexed and created a fuss

Before kicking him with a metal boot 

A gal who was very astute 

Always plunged at guys in suit 

A lot many to her words, fell prey 

But on one sad unlucky day 

A thief stole away all her life's loot 

Written for Limerick-Off Monday ~ Astute  by Madeleine Begun Kane

In Case I Do Not Return

Just in case
I do not return
From the long and winding road
I wish
No one has any concern
For I have been here
too long
Maybe
I was mashed by travel's load
Just in case
I do not return

I might not have been
too strong
And became prey
to a hungry toad
I wish
No one has any concern
If I got caged
in a celestial song
For a large debt
I long owed
Just in case
I do not return

I may have just flew along
With the strong breeze that blowed
I wish
No one has any concern
If I wandered
to where I belong
When my soul's vehicle is towed
Just in case
I do not return
I wish
No one has any concern


Prompted by On Free Verse, Picasso, and Yachting at dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Samuel Peralta (which asks us to hide a structured poem in free verse. I chose to experiment with my first villanelle)
and also Carry On Tuesday #157 - The long and winding road ( the title and first line of one of The Beatles most memorable song)

Life ~ The Greatest Code Ever Written

He had no knowledge

Of high level languages 

Like C , C++, Java or Python 

Nor did he know

The low level languages 

Of Machine codes and Assembly 

For they did not exist when he began

Yet he wrote the greatest program ever

He had no requirements to be gathered 

Nor he had to list down his specification

As there was no one else around 

Maybe his solitude was his motivation 

He planned his architecture with finesse

And designed it with precise perfection   

He had no process models to follow

With a big bang he began implementation.

The first module he made was Time

He wrote it to be a daemon 

Ceaselessly executing in background 

Creating the plethora of perceptions

Of past , present and future 

Listening to the tireless tunes of time 

He created numerous particles 

which indulged in an eternal cosmic dance.

As 'Time' proceeded he progressed 

He had no release dates to worry about 

So he functioned with his divine comforts

Making sure he produces a masterpiece
The particles he made learned to innovate
To work with each other and collaborate
Expanding in size, complexity and beauty
Deploying what we now know as the Universe.

An aesthetic user experience was created
Of drifting galaxies sequined with twinkling stars
To hold these large modules together
He created a gluing driver called Gravity
Thanks to gravity smaller modules called Planets
Attached themselves to the twinkling stars
Each star executing an almost infinite loop
Of  fusing variable matter into constant energy.

Employing a randomization technique
To choose one of the billion stars
To test his new module, code-named  'Life'
Initializing the recipe for the primordial soup
In the boisterous boiling broth blossomed
An inflorescence of magical polymers
On this chain of special molecules
He checked-in the pivotal part of his code.

In the quaternary quartet of A,T,G,C
He compiled the first version of code

Executing this program with a single click
He watched the play from his abode 

From simple, singled celled microbes
To humans having brains with four lobes
Changes propagated steady and slow
Moulding to the rhythm of nature's flow

Prompted by Poetics : Tools Of The Trade at dVersePoetsPub.

Found In Pages

From dull reality I silently step aside

To please myself with a surreal ride 

Undressing the burden of prejudice

Diving aloft into the pool of bliss

Shattering all the shackles of space-time

Intoxicating words with thoughts to rhyme

Pages pouring out elixirs of  pleasure

Healing wisdom beyond any measure

Messages preserved by immortal greats 

Relishing minds with immaculate tastes

Kindling fantasies of self discovery

Triggering  journeys of recovery

A reflection deliciously transformed

A seeking shadow divinely reformed 

image by Manu Pombrol

Muse prompted by Magpie Tales and FormForAll : Clarian Sonnets hosted at dVersePoetsPub by Samuel Peralta .

"Clarian Sonnet  is composed of seven sequentially rhymed couplets – aa bb cc dd ee ff gg – in pentameter, or ten syllables per line."

I might have gone wrong with the syllable count as I was completely relying on http://www.syllablecount.com/default.aspx for knowing the syllable count per line. 

Stoical Silence

Silence was the theme for the night
Violence of violins was the first delight

Hurt harps joined the terrible serenade
Blurting his thoughts like a grim grenade

Guitars began singing tunes of guilt
Sitars sounding his lost hope's wilt
Dreaded drums echoing sad dreams
Shredded santoors sighing in screams

Tormented tablas of rhythmic beat
Torn apart in the grief of his defeat
Flutes flaunting faulty fanatic tunes
Mute memories buried in time's dunes

Pain painted by piano's performance
Slain smiles  severed in vile penance
Cruised confusions of past left forlorn
Bruised bugles blared their last tone.  

(This poem is not in Iambic pentameter, as I am yet to learn to adhere to the syllabic rules)
Prompted by FormForAll - Framed Couplets  by Beachanny at dVerserPoetsPub.

The Nest

Life is a wonderful, exciting fest

Where our worth is always put to test

Once the fest comes to an end

We replenish ourselves in our nest

Some rides in the fest are so tough

When situation seem to be rough

That's when we are tested the most

Brooding at times , I have had enough!

These are times when we wish to reach the end

But then we get a hope , a solace , a friend

Who helps you out of the maze

His help, his comforts always ready to lend

Yet in the same maze, he might get caught

When your helps is silently sought

To play your part , tear his problems apart

That's when precious memories are wrought

There are also times we need our solitude

To seek our minds's blissful beatitude

When we withdraw into ourselves

Though with a sense of utter gratitude

We will fall down, we will fly high 

Sometimes with a smile , sometimes with a cry

Yet always finding the much needed peace

Resting our self in the nest built in the sky 

image: ParkeHarrison


Prompted by image at Magpie Tales and FormForAll: Rubaiyat Quatrains at  dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Samuel Peralta.

An attempt at writing at Rubaiyat Quatrain which is characterized with  the rhyme scheme AABA .

Nefarious Nightmare

Staring the monitor without a blink

As I sip small gulps of my drink

I lose track of space and time

Trying hard to find words to rhyme

I close my strained, burning eyes

To imagine something to feel nice

My tired mind soon drifts into sleep

Then a dreaded dream begins to creep

I see myself working in the dream

When the fire alarm begins to scream

All around , I search to find no one

All precious possessions I shun , I run

Fire exit maps - all burnt and charred

My hopes of escape feel so jarred

Intuitively I run towards the staircase

As I trip over the fallen flower vase

I am hurt now - bleeding  in abundance

My bruises singing in all their cadence

Finally I stumble upon a hazy gaze

A way out of the inferno flavored maze

Finally out of fiery lair , I feel free

A sense of achievement and glee

But this joy was just momentary

Shredded by thunder's trajectory

My hurt right leg feels as its amputated

Away from lightnings, slowly I ambulated

A few yards apart, seeing clear serene space

With all my strength, I paced towards the place

There I found the man with the wrench

Trying hard, his teeth and fists clenched

Gloomily he said "Your world is tearing apart"

Hurling the wrench to pierce thorough my heart

He shouted "You are the only one to blame

For you started that world-ending flame.

So I punish you with your death"

Listening to this, I took my last breath

Image courtesy : Robert and Shana ParkeHarrison


Prompted by Poetics: Nightmare Verse at dVerse Poets Pub 
hosted by Stu McPherson

For My Light

I wait, at the end of the tunnel

For my light to guide me out 

To find myself in life's funnel 

I wait, at the end of the tunnel 

As thoughts seem void and null 

Shackled to the chains of doubt

I wait, at the end of the tunnel  

For my light to guide me out

Image Courtesy : Google Images

Posted for FormForAll - Triolets at dVersePoetsPub hosted by Samuel Peralta. 

Thank you Sam for introducing to this wonderful form of poetry!

"A triolet has eight lines, with rhyme scheme ABaAabAB. The first, fourth and seventh lines are identical, and the second and final lines are also identical.This means that, once you've written the first couplet, you have five of the eight lines done. With only three more lines to go, you’re 63% done with the poem." 

Examples for this form can be found at Avolare and Valentine

I Being Me

This is a story about a man crossing a street

Who listens to the sound of river and his silent heart

And wonders how to disappear from society

This is the story of I Being Me

My mind told me stories never to be shared

When a broken star stares back at me

I open a blue box of feelings out of my dream

Only to realize that she lives in my head

I jot down all my reasons to write

With the fountain pen of my life

I write my life to travel far away from here

Very soon I will walk away from roads

Feeling alone behind this mask of vanity 

I am a cloud made of thoughtlessness

If i had wings like yours, I tell my pigeon 

I would fly beyond infinite stars and wait

On winter nights, I think of soup making

I live and die as the moon heels my heart

buried in sleep beneath dry leaves of sugarcane

I make miracles with my light

I Being Me

HAPPY BIRTHDAY IBeingMe!

All italicized words are titles of the posts found at http://iambeingme.com/

Partial To Gin

A man who was partial to gin

Was clad in a suit from Pierre Cardin

Piously devoted to his drink

He ignored his lady's wink

The lady divorced him for this sin

A gal who was partial to gin

Saw an opportunity for a win

She offered him another glass

He gladly accepted it with class

Together they went for a spin

Image courtesy : Google Images

Posted for Limerick-Off Monday by Mad Kane