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

Sitting on the heap of mortals, an angel failed. The world was not going to change. The kill had inspired only a naked aggression. Not blindfolded he took the bullet in heart to become a holy martyr. The pretention caused

I see you there across the room with sly winks and secrete smirks. I see your halo invisibly hanging over your head – disguising the yearn for me at the core of your heart. I see you there across the

You compromised on those dreams of old; The ones you thought were silver and gold. You traded them in For Copper and tin. You only did what you had to do, And you had to see it through – That

Knock! Knock, Are you there ?. Tell me! Tell me !, Are you even breathing?. Suffering horror!, Are you afraid of the torture?. Tension! Tension!, Don’t you even mention. Panic! Panic!, All over prevailing. Killing ! Killing!, Your lust is

Fuss and confusion; At the nearby café, a woman is hanged on her high velvet hat, concealing a left crossed-eye behind a piece of texture pretending transparency. A director with two extra-ordinary long sideburns points at an old man, who

The most important thing to always remember, At no point should you put yourself in danger, For a moment step back, take time to assess, However, act promptly, you were taught by the best. You need to determine if they

The brightest light shines deep but pure black darkness is infinite I surrender to its awe of depth without how would we know light’s speech Darkness is somewhere kept behind a door until intelligence opens in expression to be unique

searching for words in continuum of incompleteness, it was a trickle at first, then a free fall, cerebral fury: I am becoming expansive, so apposed to verbatim of shrieks, only in whispers I will talk to delphiniums, I would walk

Each written word reveals many things. What does a signature tell you? Is it sound, plain and mature? Is it recognized as only yours? Its duty is to represent you. Sign it plain, clear, and true. Put something there that

It’s time now for me to go No more will I see falling snow The Daffodils that decorated the banks And now distance memories for a longing son Saffron and Apples, their fragrance I smell From a scent that once

All alone on the lonely Island, I feel I am left alone. I keep murmuring , Hoping someone listens to me. There’s no one to laugh with, No one to sing with me. I wonder why am I alive, when

I look upon a face so familiar Always the same, yet ever changing. This day are you friend or foe? You exist not to inform, Nor to advise. Your face reminds me of what was, What is, And what is

Vines entwined, in engrossing weaves. Lush green branches, on archaic trunks. A specter familiar, charmingly exotic, Gazing I stand, recollecting the years. A vision, of some evening, eons back.. Kids’ playful frolic, and cheers lively. Carefree days, romping round the

The world’s a bit colder, The nights are silent The storms that are brewing They seem just like me, Violent. I killed another soul, It bled to death at my feet. I didn’t do much but, my sword, I did

Cleaned once again, my small, ash-color, brief case, That I used to take with me, on all my voyages. Ash, I liked not, but happened to be the one, I had, As none else, so small and compact, for my

Dead Will Sure Never Return Return For Sure Their Memory His Heart Was Like A Temple To Me When Alive And I Continue To Worship Him In My Heart , as I Feel My Heart Is His Home And My

Hiroshima forgive us, for what the world has done to you, drinking the blood of yours, rupturing your children forever. Hiroshima forgive us, for what the world has done to you, for pushing you into a black hole to never

How colourful is Bhakti- The yoga of devotion and fidelity It has a blend of various Emotions and relations In the yoga of devotion God can be your parents God can be your friend God can be your lover God

Impossible emptying my head of every bent phrase… The misshapen past crooked and crass –unrepentant lunar lit boyhood errant I against your shallow affect denial (my own story you dare edit or silence because every unacknowledged event is one erased

A long way of journey Takes me back to the yonder village Where the hills are blue And the fields are green And the brooks are full The morning wakes me up Every day with hope I open my eyes

Male, a heaven in natural ways A blossom in to my heart of agony Cheer up me with power … On the lovely beds of Indian ocean. The music of heaven Playing in the odds Enrich me a lot A

I don’t like the sound of lies But I myself speak one or two With a poker face many times Hiding the truth through and through Still I preach honesty Like I am a saint and divine Pretending to stall

You brought me to this world You fed me when I was not able to eat on my own You helped me to walk, you helped me to grow You are the one who is responsible for my existence, my

It takes two and preferably some place for settling down to administer its ways. Concurrent voices condoning each line which voices offer to be tried for size concatenate the assemblage of lines that with the swell and tonal foam must

Assume for one minute that the world was healed again,strong, though creeping veins and ventricles, unclogged their own blockages and once again it’s you who can sing and live again presume you are well again,and again ,celebrating the night and

Dual fall of the brass. From the bine, from the bliss of flower strength. An apparition of infiniteness of agony. Becoming one with failures. It tends to stay and enters the forbidden city of endless gods.Me beseeching, imploring to remain

This pain it consumes me really bad, ripping and tearing, making me sad. And sadness overtakes me, when I think of what we had. This pain inside me is plain to see, no more of your loving just for me.

Beauty dances on her face She is a flower from beautiful race Graceful gait from face to face No one else be able to trace If you come across in case You may not be able to face Touch Me

Why is that we are told to sit in a class room with a pencil kit to draw all the nature’s boon inside a grilled room why is it so we are asked to sing about the prince who gave

It was haemolysed the homeless night. Flagellation will bring out the truth. The bloody kerchief was thrown on a crowd. A new comet was sighted. Dust and ice were near the tears. Sun was rising. Something fell in the lake.

Seasons come, Seasons go, Past is forgotten, present is forgiven. Memories get aged, get ignored, Dreams are born, get matured And with every season new, A magic is unveiled. For the lengthier days, I wait for the winter to pass

Natures’ go green with the sunshine Birds disappear in the sky in that blue line Mother earth says about the story of betrayal We all have something but nothing makes it clear A silent world, an empty core burst with