Caught in boundless spirals with imminent full of doubt Must accept unkind reality of being down but not out All dreams in past nurtured now appear so far removed Resolute earlier perspectives for now stand disapproved Transient phase of ambiguity will eventually get to abate Where most of expectations with conveyances correlate It’s hard but
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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Born into a world of complex conditions A tangled web of confusing contradictions To live; to thrive; to barely survive The tormenting commands from a central hive And when the ashes settle; when no breezes blow Only then can we really know What part to take in this passionate play What sorrowful words to softly
She drags her tired heels across the tainted floor Her poise held taut though her back is sore She holds on her face a cold marble stare A hard life engraved upon cheeks once so fair Her movements; once grace exemplified Her aching limbs; with guile, defied Her last performance on this dark empty stage
It was not easy to turn a blind eye to your sorrows so I left for your better tomorrow It was very hard to drink your tears when I knew I was the reason they became poison which killed our relation when I couldn’t make you smile How could I make you cry? left.. left
The widest face I’ve ever seen and by his ears , thick whiskers, Always drinks sweet Lipton’s tea in a glass with lemon Enjoys his cigarettes and smiles pouring over daily papers Ringtone set to Mahler’s 5th in his eyes small progress is: Goosesteps, new convertibles stooping tramps, the summer dresses, He sees the crowd’s
It Breaks my heart Rips my soul apart When every morning the newspaper reads And various news feeds, talk about Girls and women, young and old being savagely raped and killed or sold It breaks my heart Rips my soul apart Female Infanticide is rampant A girl is not safe even in her mothers womb
Colossal memories engulf me, I plunge down deep, Precious bring back my smile, Others do bring back grief. The quantum I did endure, My trampled heart would always pry. Sure nothing stays eternally, No fact hidden in cry! I leap forward to touch, The future, I fathom such. Past then claws me back, Present, never
I’ll be waiting my friend, at the street corner pub. Waiting for happy hours to end. Waiting for the waiter to Take the last orders. I’ll be waiting for My glass of wine to Concoct the image of you At my browned nicotined lips. I’ll be waiting at the railway station for the Last suburban
Every morning my eyes open To the charisma of your beauty As if the-all-night-gaze wasn’t gratifying enough Please mind not if my fingers wander If my hands wrap around you Or If my lips kiss your feet in admiration They are too, crazy about you Watching you smile when you open your eyes Has been
Apathetic forever responses just try being bit concerned Readjust to a sense of giving for volumes to be returned Get rid of limiting blinkers to view all what surrounds Delights ripened for picking where bliss always abounds In vain quest of inexplicable old bridges which get burnt Prove means to an inapt end for lessons
The way the heart seems to be crumbling, The lingering touch that utters words, fumbling, When my eyes meet the shadow of your eye, We know that we should never say good-bye… Every small ending that we encounter, Leaves a hope to which we surrender, “I will see you tomorrow”,I said, “As long as tomorrow
My love is much like gem of royal crown, Appraised through fire that it’s luster would bring, And though no throne, my heart has ever known, With her around, I would feel like a king; She is at par with but the very best, Methinks, I am not far amiss to say, That she is