Elevation Poems

Alone, perched upon the precipice, The Thinker, swathed in Olympian bliss, Thought thoughts of Truth and Power. The din to his ears did not rise, He did not witness Mankind’s demise From his lofty ivory tower. He fashioned fantastical fancies,

Far away from mankind and society, far I wandered. Through bleak plains and screeching drums, Dragging along my body, weary from the residues of development, My eyes are sore from enduring all this mortal architecture that’s slowly diminishing in my rear

You feel you have conquered it all. Your big ego still feels small Look man … The mountain still stands tall. You blast your way up to the top But you know not now … Where to stop The hill

Lighter than a feather, when weighed on you though, never heavier, Rain in the storm, blown away I’m torn, open up, it’s not like the norm Adored but not shown, praises that become worn, Show me the love, where’s the

So cold But so still Will my well Begin to kill my Own selfish ways Or should I just stay Frozen in order to decay In the mist of the bay May I fly to die? Or soar to become

I approach the 160° turn to the left, The public toilets, still there. Those strange, Striped warning poles and a sign in Old engineering font (like London Underground, but rusted) saying ‘STOP WHEN BELL RINGS’. Up its gentle elevation to

Her severed head she carries, from the Sant’ Angelo Bridge, surrounded features bring her near, so small in comparison, drawn to the Tempietto, she’s associated with this reminder overheard, from my conversation with Paul from the ceiling, conveyance from scripture,

A look past the glass I can see my past Now freed from the disbelieve One can start to relive Though what can I gain? Still I am in pain Maybe with just a wish I’d change my accomplished dish

Ethics takes a nap, in a blink, without qualms. * A jilted lover, like a broken moon, takes a jump from the hill. * In this twilight who am I, in this crowd of sinners? ———————————————– Ethics takes a nap,

I always wonder if the world we live in, would ever get right, the meaning of identity, For, it believes each of us is a race horse, trained just the way it wills us to be – “Girls your age,

Maybe it was just the hand that I was dealt. Never had luck trying to figure life out. I’m doing my best to be the best man I can be. But there’s something evil that dwells deep inside of me.

The door to my heart – is always open matter of fact – there is no door its just a field (green pleases the vision ) goes as far as your eye can see I shall set you free just

Like a wisp of smoke A dream returns to me. The memory, though fading, Brings a feeling of warmth. Two little girls, Playing in the sun. One with red hair, The other with sparkling eyes. I’ve traveled the world, It’s

This girl have been cooking food for her family, she used to have a promise for eternity, that she would be with only one person, her parents would have chosen that man in person, but one fine day her innocence

He had a point to make People viewed he was good He knew inside stories Was privy to information Actually tried blackmailing Under the garb of advising People fell prey to his ways To people who suspected him He was

The sun is shining bright, The wind is blowing a li’l light. Flowers blooming frequently, Birds chirping silently. The sky is clear, The grass is green, The world seems so beautiful and clean. It’s the spring time. Multi-coloured flower are

Uncertainty of return lies ahead, I love you all in my family. Have to leave you all, to save a bigger family- The innocent citizens of my country. Monsters are thirsty of our warm blood. A war has started between

And when I tremble bare As your hands outline the chambers I’ve never found beauty in remember that first has many definitions and this was a first. Sunken in walls, barely holding form the air coats the parts of me

Yes, getting lost in that one. He who listens to your every word that falls from my lips. He who extends his arm out to lift me up when I can’t stand anymore. He who embraces me with his strong

You know how much am tired of fake praise This pain of mine seems never to erase When I found you suppressed deep in fear Last night I only tried to wipe your tears How hard it was to realise

With fondness I recall love that was: Lyrical like the breeze that kisses my forehead, That tanned my skin is pleasant warmth! With drums and tantrums they celebrated the union of two souls, And then the matriarchs spurned the love

I put my love for you Into words, Words cleverly disguised To look as if mine, Every time I catch a new Emotion, I put it down, Write and rewrite Edit and re-edit, I have done all that, That is

His love for his wife was a broken apparatus he tinkered with it at night after she went to bed gliding to her dark red room alone or if she miscalculated the dosage of her medicine with his help and

Pretty soul with mysterious memories A treasure to discover through the troubles A deep ocean to swim and dive Spreading fast virus to never ending love The cause of heartache and hypertension Unsolved case without understandable emotions Romantic creature with

Night, oh playwright, to the soul’s loneliness I quest every line, beneath your cover One to recite, for heart’s harmonious So my part may be played — with another But stages, — life — dropped her encore curtain How heavied

I’m sorry, but, ghosts are not scary. They live inside me. They live inside you. And without realizing, they consume us whole Of course, they are here to destroy But the destruction..? It’s so silent And silence, so to say,

A songbird sings a melancholy song Deep within a forest, dense. No one could hear it, No one around and hence, The songbird he wondered, What he was doing wrong, Should he sing it louder? Should he change the song?

Sitting on the bed your legs stretched, on your shoulder so lovingly you kept my head, holding my face with your palms you kissed me on my forehead, embracing me in your arms you kissed me on both my eyes,

I leave the house in a hurry Hope will be in time to avoid Boss’ fury I shudder to hear “Late again ? you dirty Start the Car in a jiffy Cover little distance freely Apply brake suddenly Traffic has

Almost towards the end, near about the last bend, who knew I would find another friend. Too much rush and too much crowd, who knew he would still stand out. happy and cheerful, indeed his presence was delightful. although the

…So, I asked: what is beauty? He said: it is the impossible becoming real; or It is the kohl of a string on the forefingers of a guitar player; It is the explosion of astonishment on a beautiful lady’s waist;

Happening? you heave a sigh. In peril, mother of peace? Real threat to ice lingam? the Creator? Falling apart? Cat’s claw was not healing. Where the greens will go? The pods, the seeds? Tara, Tara! come again, we are waiting

Unveiled, the moon will find you after morose beginning of becoming – me Homophobia creeps in, beyond the condemnation, the incompleteness. You walk straight in the arms of contradiction, confusion smearing the wall with your crimson, nihilistic words. Every other

I love fast I love strong I love like a red hot flame branding my flesh with your name I love quick I love long I love like a deep ocean’s storm climbing with waves to your form I love

Rose petals, dried leaves and wet earth wet bark of the trees, a dripping lamp post a man huddled in a trench coat sitting on a bench, a cold bench his boots soggy, his eyes damp clutched in his hands

Death was prowling from funeral to funeral. No shadow will be spared today. I am not ready yet for the final curtain. Bullets have left some clocks ticking in the pockets of time. I shall call the leader who is

A preacher was shedding dirty tears for burning hills. Pinned up on tongue was a slogan. Death for all sunflowers. Draped in blood who was trespassing the sickle moon? I cannot raise the mist where you stand naked in sunlight.

Choices are a part Of voices from the heart. Without inner voice You have no choice. It is all a matter of choice How we use our voice. Back your choice With a strong voice. I made my choice Paying

All braced to face the day, The diurnal engine ignited, Gently revving up, Barging into the quietude Of the colony, With a daily prayer escaping His mumbling lips, As he steered mildly Into the road, To see a car pulled

Sometimes, it looks beautiful and loving, Our thoughtless acts and thirst of beauty, Make much harm to the sweet beloved, We ultimately stop the outburst of beauty. Making fairy doors in the stems of trees, Looks beautiful and charms exploiting,