Friday 5 October 2012

Vanishing Words


 I always wonder where do these words come from, where do they rise and where do they set?  Sometimes shining like the bright full moon. Sometimes like the shimmering crescent. Yet many a times like the moonless empty sky, deserting poets and writers as the rains do to the parched earth.

Words, where have thee gone ?
Leaving thy writer forlorn

These are the moments I am lost in wishful thinking, longing and awaiting the resurgence of words. Like an explorer lost in search of his own hidden treasure.
These are the moments raining with anxiety, emptiness and silence. Thoughts begin to scream at full volume but the pen seems to have lost all its ink and I do nothing but hopefully blink, trying to verse-fully think.

No rhythm , no rhyme
I loathe that terrible time
More so often then not
I am entangled in this knot







Sunday 30 September 2012

For DB


I see her every morning 
      In the crowded city bus
Always sits at the window seat 
      Holding her black shining purse 


Rarely she misses her daily stop,
    Only on days when she falls asleep
On many days she is found,
    Reflecting on thoughts too deep 


She always keeps the window open
     For the breeze to caress her pretty face
And for the rhythm of  the breeze
     To make her hair flutter like a silken lace


Never have I spoken to her 
     Hence I know not her name 
But to be lost in her rapturing smile
     Every single moment I am game 


Some mornings she is found 
      Blushing at her mobile's latest text
 On some others she is lost
        With her Rubik's cube she is vexed


Last week she had her friends for company
     To find her name, I eavesdropped
But all I could hear was her nickname - D.B.
     For she vanished, as the bus stopped.
      
 

Written for Poetics : 6 Billion Others.. at the dVersePoetsPub hosted by Brian Miller

Friday 28 September 2012

Emily's Entourage


’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much joy!
A PRECIOUS, mouldering pleasure ’t is
MUCH madness is divinest sense
And sings the tune without the words

IF recollecting were forgetting,
WE never know how high we are
I wonder if when years have piled—
THE brain is wider than the sky,




All the above lines are verses from the poems of  Emily Dickinson. I recently started reading her poems as a part of my online course at Coursera on Modern Poetry and I must say I have got quite addicted to them. They seem so simple yet convey such deeper meanings. 

Sunday 16 September 2012

First Poem

Poems, never thought I would write any
Though I had read and memorized  many 
Then on a fine afternoon in my classroom shade
In the English lecture of my twelfth grade
I was forced to write one of my own 
Fidgeting my brand new pen, up and down 
I wandered along my mind's cloud
Penning down my thoughts aloud
Taking inspiration from the Daffodils
That gathered over the vales and hills
I resonated a repetitive rhetorical refrain
Of a question that meandered my mind's lane
Framing up tiny couplets that would rhyme
Adding melodies to my mind's muted mime
I read through my first poem once it was done
Realizing that poetry is SO much fun


Written for Poetics : First Times at the dVersePoetsPub hosted by Fred Rutherford  

Friday 31 August 2012

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


Sunday 12 August 2012

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.



Sunday 29 July 2012

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