My love, we ventured deep in raging storms, Have groped in fogs, plodded on snow, Endured the scroll, aligned to rules and norms, Would we then die in calm, when no winds blow? For ships are stranded in such windless trips, Like dormant love, with passion locked and zipped, Should love pour grandly, or just
Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
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There is a voice in me, I listen to barely. Invisible as phantom shadows, It haunts me, taunts me. I sip some poison Inebriated; It flaunts me. It knocks me off, Scissors me in two, ‘Good or evil, whose baby are you’? A thin line of heartbeat, Buttresses compassion The imp again gibes ‘So, giving
Guess what I am writing about? A strange phenomenon of recent times. Bright and Colorful, depicts interesting times… Takes off the monotony, a peep into lives… Success epics , someone’s frustrations galore, Wise ones’ words repeated, in circles of lore! It’s popular, it’s trendy, and times engaging …. Not serious, just tottering, scrolling and trolling..
The night was inky black The stars were out to play The wind picked up its midnight rhythm The cold raced up and down her arm She stood still and looked on At the At the gaping nothingness beyond Ears strained she listened For answering shrieks from the depths below Silence prevailed but for the
Brothers are sleeping on the battlefield so gently.. Brothers are sleeping as if they will never wake, They are dreaming of a world where they will have no reason to fight again… Can you see? there the pilgrims are passing slowly praying for a world of glory, little silhouette of the birds all across the
You built me up, favored by your light’s glow, To bask thereat, as world lies at my feet, I half believe my luck, the times that flow, Still sweet, even through nights of hale and sleet; Your tender touch, soft as the evening’s dew, That lined petals, yet without wetting through, Just as suggest, your
She knows That he knows That she knows He watches her! His silent eyes With a tip-off arrogance Makes him one of a kind. Her soothing smile With a pinch of grieve Sticks her out in a mile. A vain chase of rainbows With a dash of vanity Turns them into nameless Yet perfect strangers!
Time has kissed all over your Wide strong frame like a Much married mistress. Shrunk your dependable muscles, Loosened your chestnut brown cover, Sculpted your face with lines That deepen your smiles and worries. That chest where I lay curled up once Now quivers like paper flower petals Under the ceiling fan. As I watch
There’s a halogen moon outside my window There’s an aluminum cat on the road There’s a transparent building that casts a shadow and that’s the saddest of them all. I’m wearing a belt of teardrops And a crown of grey smoke rings I’m standing in a wardrobe, naked And I’m a taxi ride without a
What is my existence? Am I just a mere substance or a thing of pleasure? Am I just a homemaker or just a refuge seeker? In this world of masks I am left with just a veil. I see this beautiful world from under that. The various colours seem so unpleasant behind these four walls.
I am trying hard not to cry, I am trying to put my feelings aside. I am trying to be a good sister, wife and friend. I am trying not to offend. I am trying to not fear. I am trying not to shed a tear. I am trying to not feel this alone. I
Lo and behold that feeling once more has returned To tease, test and torment dead past willfully spurned From window shut forever heard unmistakable creak A portent of ensuing havoc and destruction it’ll wreak Dilemmas deemed sorted in archives since then lost Will augment latent agony with much heftier paid cost An arduous uphill drudgery