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

Drop by drop they scatter on ground With a melancholy sound to cherish in time Flowers with drops falling to their fine textures Stood drenched aside with tapering stems The rain showers nurturing their roots of growth Been a life

She is within an ever-lasting atmosphere, She is beneath the never lasting core, She prays, searches, hopes and fights, To find this never lasting door, A door leading to peace and promise, She is running out of time, So why

In love I learned a thousand ways to comfort this world, smiled and hugged blew kisses so warm , built inn and held caravan so long , brew tea, wrote words alive played music as every fibre of my being

I thought Life is a fantasy having a lot of positivity I spent childhood happily and merrily I cherished Teenage which was full of excitement and entertainment I entered adulthood with dreams and challenges I experienced Middle age as most

‘Twas the month before Christmas, I was feeling quite pleased 16 days since I smoked, 16 days since I wheezed The ashtrays were stashed, my lighter long gone The cravings more tolerable, not nearly as strong I reminded myself. “don’t

Didn’t realize when the heart swelled, a tear rolled down, then, another…. …and so on……….. What a charming guy with blue twinkling eyes! Santa spreading laughter and cheer; giving away endless memories and smiles! Immense pain wears the garb of

I wish I was, A part of your lie… I wish we were, Together tonight…. In your ignorance, To somewhere you fly… Never changing, Always ready for fight… Loneliness engulfed me here, Though you kept in touch.. Hope awaits but

The day I’ve looked to for years is now my dreaded bitter end. Melancholy incarnate, I feel nothing, much to my chagrin. My mind a wall, nostalgia the flood. Bursting through upon the hour. Bittersweet memories of you. The wall

Sorrow & comfort, Opposite extremes. Wisdom invites each soul to those scenes. Terms of life are never all kind, riddled with strife, leave achieves behind. Highest expressions Can make one so tall, But unbridled grief will cause one to fall.

Today I want to take a lethal dose of black lips, confronting the killer on contract. Time dithers to escort. May be a cold-blooded murder of a handful of sick shadows will give a transparent memory. Planting a sad kiss

What is the relevance now to live for a cause? Epicenter has changed. They were altering the human gene. Butterflies, the lips of squealing babies. I was very fond of monarchs, flying in huge clouds, settling like a drizzle on

I remember a time when life was alive with wondrous mysteries of carefree design; when clouds were fluffy and brilliant white with planes soaring high and then out of sight. Innocence of mind and a happier soul as we played

I am here In the world of fantasies… No pain,no agonies. Oh, it’s beautiful!!! I bathe in the alluring sun’s rays. I do not remember all those betraying days. I have no tear in my eye For I have lifted

I’m up shit creek, this time, Granddad. My madness Isn’t paying off like it did, When I made her happy and Delirious, in love. I look Up to the clouds, hoping that You are, at least, there to Listen. I

Soaked trees from the rain and fallen leaves, that cover paths lined with glowing pumpkins Houses with dimly lit porch lights and Halloween decorations welcome youngsters of all ages Children running amok dressed as their favorite character and yelling ‘Trick

Like black birds homing in twilight, to the tree my thoughts make a perfect landing. I lift the silence in sleep. A flying snake enters a pink room. A bullet pierces the heart. No acolytes, I will catch myself the

My own self, I need to honor. My own gift, I need to discover. I was born with, A special capacity, I need to find. What distinguishes my entity? To develop and practice, To have an access, To reach the

Vague log cabins speckle the yawning valley against the rapture of majestic mountains. Narrow pathway snakes up the range, gooseberry shrubs colour the sides of the stony trail that leaves me cold. Squinting against the dead sun chilly winds dampen

It is not about how much you losing when fallen down it is about how much strength you have to pull self up and start things over again, this is what defines you that whom you are, when you are

How delicate is the heart of a man It throbs gently at every beat yet it bears the burden of the man From the things he loves best and the things he loathes so dreadful Of the things he loves

Welcome, welcome I’ve waited for you. Now pray tell, what did you do? Walk passed the hungry, ignoring you knew? Or was it more sinister thought through and well planned? I see you have blood smeared on your hands. You

Illusions and how we chase them like mirage gives one the hope often a false one though but one who is lost will chase them still for that is all he has that is what remains sane in the insanity

Last week I went to see the big game. And everyone was there. The N’gina family from 2 doors down, The Cheng family from across the street, The guys I see going to the mosque sometimes, The ladies who always

Body sat at desk, Huddled over a book. Eyes fixated on the page in front of you Finger twirling through your hair. The same eyes that often wander my body, Hands that get tangled in my skin. I watch the

It was burning again like goldenrods in drift valley of ethnic hate. You start climbing down deeper in fear holding tight your identity. The anguish of ruined home under the shadows of bribed hands, runs on the bodies of pilgrims

Nobody ever saw her break She carried around an awful ache A smile that could warm your heart Slowly frowned at she fell apart Nobody knew of her silent struggles Not one person knew of her troubles Her inner demons

Your scintillating albedo, enters my soul, Pouring your smell, splendid in dole, Love’s act of mime, in shadowy cloud, My soul speaks lie, seeking you aloud, Dreary your play, tests my patience, Your shadow forwards, your eclipsing cadence, Veiling the

O viola, go over the grapes and find an ageless green. It is difficult to be born again, undoing death. You swoon at the continuity of crossroads – with blue flags in your bowl. A rosette, without a winner. A

Disguise In our age of awakening Believing in ghosts or devils has become foreign To the consciousness Astonished at the progress of technology Empty minds even can not become devil’s workshop Refused to become But sensitivity realizes that Devil has

Come let’s tour my heart, let’s see what’s inside, some things are broken apart, and some things I had to hide, please be careful of the doors you open, countless ending tears so the floors are soaken, see the lacerations

It was a graceful exit with audacious idiocity. A cyclops was going for a dress disaster. Visitation of flesh, mars the beauty. Cheating starts between the pails of tears. I start hitting the planet. Let the bride sleep in fog.

Known by tiranga, is our developing nation, Dreams come true, people play their part with passion ; Civilised,cultured lilliputs with big hearts, All together, love together is the dream for my nation…! Salute to the soldiers, their attributes and sacrifices,