Ploughing the way across the oceans,
Mountain land and desert,
I've come here as an uninvited guest -
to partake a meal with faces unknown...
Luscious fruits, wholesome produce, drinks aplenty
And treats untasted...
They all lay bare on the shiny new table -
Without claimants, without owners.
We sat at the table, with forks and knives
Ready to devour the sumptuous spread
Laid out by the virtuous hands of the heavenly hostess.
She hid behind the curtains,
In the shadows beyond;
Though none looked to her
To thank her selfless efforts,
For the food was there and the drinks to enjoy,
To keep us happy now and forever..
She didnt mind though and never stopped giving,
Always remaining hidden behind the nearby curtains..
We sat without a prayer and started with a fervor -
And when we finished with our lavish meal
The table was still full, with dishes untasted..
We had our fill and left the rest
Until we would feel hungry again,
If not today then tomorrow
If not tomorrow then the day after..
After all, who could lay claim
On what does not belong to them
Or even to the lady beyond..
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Friday, December 15, 2006
In the princess’ robes
Who are these O Haze, who know not the meaning of love,
The one over there, he wants me for the knowledge I happen to possess,
And gives me pieces of worthless metal, to do his petty biddings.
The ignorant one here, she wants me for the comfort that I give her,
Not realizing that it lasts no longer than a mere bubble.
The hopeful ones yonder want me so I shall hold them,
When they tread their last few miles on the passive earth.
And the one beside me, he looks no deeper than my beguiling skin.
Is there no one who can love me true, just for what I am,
A silly little girl in the princess’ robes?
The one over there, he wants me for the knowledge I happen to possess,
And gives me pieces of worthless metal, to do his petty biddings.
The ignorant one here, she wants me for the comfort that I give her,
Not realizing that it lasts no longer than a mere bubble.
The hopeful ones yonder want me so I shall hold them,
When they tread their last few miles on the passive earth.
And the one beside me, he looks no deeper than my beguiling skin.
Is there no one who can love me true, just for what I am,
A silly little girl in the princess’ robes?
Paradise?
The golden orb was sinking yonder,
Signaling the crest of another night, and a new life.
The narrow path wound its way,
Through the bushes, hills and plains.
Leading the believers, to its enigmatic destination.
Unmindful of the heartless elements,
Undaunted by the undulating terrain,
He lay on his back, in the dingy little ditch,
By the side of the brash little path.
It was layered with leaves, dull and decaying,
Maggots and insects fought for the filth,
That adorned the walls of the shallow home.
His clothes hung limp, flimsy and tattered,
Not serving any purpose than
Vainly trying to shield,
His essentials from the eyes, of the vulgar and the vain.
Battered by Nature, let down by man,
His torso lay still, responding to no impulse.
Nothing he had to call his own,
Expect the sadistic elixir that kept him alive.
Neither man nor beast even bothered to wander
Near the desolate den of neglect and ruin.
Then came the yellow moon from behind the mountains yonder,
To cast a faint glow on the smile that hovered,
On the lips of the contented slave of Father Time.
Signaling the crest of another night, and a new life.
The narrow path wound its way,
Through the bushes, hills and plains.
Leading the believers, to its enigmatic destination.
Unmindful of the heartless elements,
Undaunted by the undulating terrain,
He lay on his back, in the dingy little ditch,
By the side of the brash little path.
It was layered with leaves, dull and decaying,
Maggots and insects fought for the filth,
That adorned the walls of the shallow home.
His clothes hung limp, flimsy and tattered,
Not serving any purpose than
Vainly trying to shield,
His essentials from the eyes, of the vulgar and the vain.
Battered by Nature, let down by man,
His torso lay still, responding to no impulse.
Nothing he had to call his own,
Expect the sadistic elixir that kept him alive.
Neither man nor beast even bothered to wander
Near the desolate den of neglect and ruin.
Then came the yellow moon from behind the mountains yonder,
To cast a faint glow on the smile that hovered,
On the lips of the contented slave of Father Time.
Twilight Ripples
The cheerful chirping of the gaily birds
And the innocent laughter of the guileless children
Have faded with the retreating rays,
Of the impartial morning guide.
The seething fury of the fiery volcano
Has subsided for a reason unknown
And the lashing waves, even the bubbling froth,
Are now still, perhaps in introspection,
Of its seemingly uneventful existence.
The resonating chants from the ‘holy’ mouths
Are now eternally lost to the cleansing winds.
Even the faint rustle of the leaves and grasses,
Has died down, probably in submission,
To the soothing calm of this enigmatic evening….
But even the embalming silence of the tranquil evening fails to quell
The resonating ripples of my orphaned senses...
And the innocent laughter of the guileless children
Have faded with the retreating rays,
Of the impartial morning guide.
The seething fury of the fiery volcano
Has subsided for a reason unknown
And the lashing waves, even the bubbling froth,
Are now still, perhaps in introspection,
Of its seemingly uneventful existence.
The resonating chants from the ‘holy’ mouths
Are now eternally lost to the cleansing winds.
Even the faint rustle of the leaves and grasses,
Has died down, probably in submission,
To the soothing calm of this enigmatic evening….
But even the embalming silence of the tranquil evening fails to quell
The resonating ripples of my orphaned senses...
Soothing Wounds
Let the raging red flames burn me bare,
So the words from mortal mouths can do no more
Let the unforgiving sharp thorns pierce me deep,
So no human actions can pain me further
Let the swirling waters of the torrid rivers
Toss me into the heart of the desolate islands,
So no other confinement can isolate me more.
Let the sword from Hell’s own forge stab my back
So even the betrayal by my very self would mean nothing.
Let the denuding gale blowing forth,
Pound my soul to threadbare tatters,
Lest no other attempt can break my inner will.
Let the numbing icy blizzards
Freeze the blood coursing through my mortal torso
So I never feel the pain when it bursts through my veins
Let the shining morning light nearly blind my eye
So I can bear to see any sight
That would send the rest into a fright.
So the words from mortal mouths can do no more
Let the unforgiving sharp thorns pierce me deep,
So no human actions can pain me further
Let the swirling waters of the torrid rivers
Toss me into the heart of the desolate islands,
So no other confinement can isolate me more.
Let the sword from Hell’s own forge stab my back
So even the betrayal by my very self would mean nothing.
Let the denuding gale blowing forth,
Pound my soul to threadbare tatters,
Lest no other attempt can break my inner will.
Let the numbing icy blizzards
Freeze the blood coursing through my mortal torso
So I never feel the pain when it bursts through my veins
Let the shining morning light nearly blind my eye
So I can bear to see any sight
That would send the rest into a fright.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Quest for peace
The cheerful chirping of the gaily birds
And the innocent laughter of the guileless children
Have long faded with the retreating rays
Of the impartial morning guide.
Even the seething fury of the fiery volcano
Has subsided for reason unknown
And the lashing waves, even the bubbling froth
Are now still, perhaps in introspection
Of their seemingly trivial existence
The resonating chants from the holy mouths
Are now lost to the cleansing winds,
Even the faint rustle of the leaves of the proud trees
Has ceased, probably in submission
To the soothing calm of this unusual evening.
But even this pervading silence fails to quell
The resonating ripples of my orphaned senses
And the innocent laughter of the guileless children
Have long faded with the retreating rays
Of the impartial morning guide.
Even the seething fury of the fiery volcano
Has subsided for reason unknown
And the lashing waves, even the bubbling froth
Are now still, perhaps in introspection
Of their seemingly trivial existence
The resonating chants from the holy mouths
Are now lost to the cleansing winds,
Even the faint rustle of the leaves of the proud trees
Has ceased, probably in submission
To the soothing calm of this unusual evening.
But even this pervading silence fails to quell
The resonating ripples of my orphaned senses
The unlikely espousal
It caught her whim to herd the lambs
To the graying pastures of the dusk.
Running behind them as fast as her legs
She drove them towards the lush green grasses,
To appease the hunger of their ever-empty bellies.
Or perhaps she drove them so she could be away,
At least for a few minutes from her seemingly cosy cave.
She could see them now, standing tall and firm
Beyond their dark disconcerting shadows,
The sculptors of the cave that was labeled her own.
They made the rains that filled the valleys
Tarry a minute so she could feel
The pristine droplets trickling down her skin.
It never caught her fancy though
Because she could only feel them stinging her deep.
But here in the open, away from the shadows,
The gushing waters of the chivalrous streams
Refused to wash her cracked feet,
For though by blood, she was of the mountains,
She was no more than a shepherding lass.
Then came the wind from a distant land
Blowing with force and bowing to none.
She ran up the hill forgetting her herd
And never did notice the sinking sun
She knew she could never withstand the force
Of the gale blowing up the innocent hillock.
No sooner did she reach the summit of the peak
Did the gale slow down to a soothing breeze
Probably to rustle her rustic hair or play with her seasoned skin.
She held his hands and walked down the slopes,
Into the woods and beyond the horizon.
Only the retreating sun and a bashful moon
Were witness when he carried her away,
Beyond the mountains, beyond her dreams,
Into lands unknown and yet undiscovered….
To the graying pastures of the dusk.
Running behind them as fast as her legs
She drove them towards the lush green grasses,
To appease the hunger of their ever-empty bellies.
Or perhaps she drove them so she could be away,
At least for a few minutes from her seemingly cosy cave.
She could see them now, standing tall and firm
Beyond their dark disconcerting shadows,
The sculptors of the cave that was labeled her own.
They made the rains that filled the valleys
Tarry a minute so she could feel
The pristine droplets trickling down her skin.
It never caught her fancy though
Because she could only feel them stinging her deep.
But here in the open, away from the shadows,
The gushing waters of the chivalrous streams
Refused to wash her cracked feet,
For though by blood, she was of the mountains,
She was no more than a shepherding lass.
Then came the wind from a distant land
Blowing with force and bowing to none.
She ran up the hill forgetting her herd
And never did notice the sinking sun
She knew she could never withstand the force
Of the gale blowing up the innocent hillock.
No sooner did she reach the summit of the peak
Did the gale slow down to a soothing breeze
Probably to rustle her rustic hair or play with her seasoned skin.
She held his hands and walked down the slopes,
Into the woods and beyond the horizon.
Only the retreating sun and a bashful moon
Were witness when he carried her away,
Beyond the mountains, beyond her dreams,
Into lands unknown and yet undiscovered….
Sunday, July 09, 2006
The Mirage
In the unforgiving seas of golden sand,
Bathed in the crippling heat of the ruthless sun,
He dragged his feet, straining and panting,
Pushing his eyes to search for a drop
Of the elixir that until now, he had indulged generously in.
Looking further, near the horizon,
He found his refuge in the hazy shadow
Of the beguiling borders of the elusive oasis.
It would quench his thirst and give him life,
Once more, the last one, the womb.
Gathering what was left of his wasted body,
He pulled on for yards, perhaps miles
Always to find his refuge just beyond his reach.
Never too close to wet his throat,
Never too far to murder his hope…
Heartlessly she lured him, to the voids of hell
And ignorant to this, he pulled on with hope,
Until the last of his breaths
Abandoned him….
She had claimed her first victim,
And there were many more to follow…
The innocent souls that went in search.,
Of faith, life and truth.
Bathed in the crippling heat of the ruthless sun,
He dragged his feet, straining and panting,
Pushing his eyes to search for a drop
Of the elixir that until now, he had indulged generously in.
Looking further, near the horizon,
He found his refuge in the hazy shadow
Of the beguiling borders of the elusive oasis.
It would quench his thirst and give him life,
Once more, the last one, the womb.
Gathering what was left of his wasted body,
He pulled on for yards, perhaps miles
Always to find his refuge just beyond his reach.
Never too close to wet his throat,
Never too far to murder his hope…
Heartlessly she lured him, to the voids of hell
And ignorant to this, he pulled on with hope,
Until the last of his breaths
Abandoned him….
She had claimed her first victim,
And there were many more to follow…
The innocent souls that went in search.,
Of faith, life and truth.
Masquerades
His lips utter the words of his long lost masters,
His mind though feeling the caressing arms of his alluring concubines
She fondles the hair of her lover, looking deeply into his eyes,
Seeing in his eyes the diamonds he had promised.
The healer holds the dying man’s arms
Uttering words of faith, giving him hope,
Knowing fully well that the cancer would devour him
He consoles the young widow with deceiving appeal,
The blood not even having dried from his murderous fingers.
The flatterers blow verses of praise into the ears of the vain man,
Who throws worthless gold for these empty words
Is there no one who seeks the truth?
However bitter, however sweet,
Isn’t it that which will satiate the hunger
Of the restless unappeased inner soul?
His mind though feeling the caressing arms of his alluring concubines
She fondles the hair of her lover, looking deeply into his eyes,
Seeing in his eyes the diamonds he had promised.
The healer holds the dying man’s arms
Uttering words of faith, giving him hope,
Knowing fully well that the cancer would devour him
He consoles the young widow with deceiving appeal,
The blood not even having dried from his murderous fingers.
The flatterers blow verses of praise into the ears of the vain man,
Who throws worthless gold for these empty words
Is there no one who seeks the truth?
However bitter, however sweet,
Isn’t it that which will satiate the hunger
Of the restless unappeased inner soul?
Thursday, June 15, 2006
The butterfly
It was a gory sight indeed,
With his arms flailed and legs apart,
The crimson fluid staining his clothes.
An innocent child was the unwitting cause,
The breeze an ally for this ghastly end.
Running after the flitting fly,
She caused him to veer and fall,
Into the great depths of the winding abyss.
An impulsive martyr for an unfathomable reason,
His eyes were veiled with a look of shock.
The crowd that had gathered feverishly tried,
To feel his pulse and pump his chest.
But their frantic efforts were to no avail,
For Father Time would never tarry,
While executing his cold-blooded duty.
Searching in vain for the life – giving nectar,
The gaily colored butterfly
Settled on his stained red bosom.
The little child stood nonchalantly by,
Staring intently at the blue black fly
A woman screamed and another fainted
Pairs of hands pulled him up
To help him make his final journey.
Drops of tears welled up in her eyes,
For, her gaily colored butterfly
Had finally escaped on the sly……..
With his arms flailed and legs apart,
The crimson fluid staining his clothes.
An innocent child was the unwitting cause,
The breeze an ally for this ghastly end.
Running after the flitting fly,
She caused him to veer and fall,
Into the great depths of the winding abyss.
An impulsive martyr for an unfathomable reason,
His eyes were veiled with a look of shock.
The crowd that had gathered feverishly tried,
To feel his pulse and pump his chest.
But their frantic efforts were to no avail,
For Father Time would never tarry,
While executing his cold-blooded duty.
Searching in vain for the life – giving nectar,
The gaily colored butterfly
Settled on his stained red bosom.
The little child stood nonchalantly by,
Staring intently at the blue black fly
A woman screamed and another fainted
Pairs of hands pulled him up
To help him make his final journey.
Drops of tears welled up in her eyes,
For, her gaily colored butterfly
Had finally escaped on the sly……..
The Night of the Strangers
The soothing evening breeze heralded a night of life giving downpour,
Darkness stifled the last rays of the retreating sun,
Drops of the heavenly elixir caressed my virgin skin
And the speeding western winds sang the rhythm of life.
I talked with the silver stars and danced with the gurgling stream….
But soon the steeds cam racing, to take me yonder,
To the land of accustomed strangers….
Dragging my reluctant feet, I entered the diminutive coach,
That was filled with hazy faces of familiar strangers.
Torrents of unforgiving rain sliced through the flimsy canvas,
Drenching me to the very depths of my soul.
The ghoulish black of the consuming night
Engulfed the last embers of surviving hope.
Looking for succor to the lone fading star,
I found it hiding behind impenetrable clouds….
The flimsy stems of the mighty trees, swayed with fervor, in gay abandon.
The blades of light came sharp and cruel,
Making my heart quiver with fear,
But it was the look of lust in the cold stranger’s eye,
That sent waves of fear through my body and soul..
Neither cloak nor night could shield the treasure
From the penetrating gaze of the icy blue eyes.
Wishing for company, from angel, even demon,
On this bare rainy day, I found none….
Even the elements seemed to conspire,
Though ignorant I was of their unfathomable reasons
Clutching at his words for comfort,
And leaning on the reminiscences of the heavenly evening,
I withstood the ravages of the brutal night,
To finally lie in submission, in the lap of the stranger I love the most…………
Darkness stifled the last rays of the retreating sun,
Drops of the heavenly elixir caressed my virgin skin
And the speeding western winds sang the rhythm of life.
I talked with the silver stars and danced with the gurgling stream….
But soon the steeds cam racing, to take me yonder,
To the land of accustomed strangers….
Dragging my reluctant feet, I entered the diminutive coach,
That was filled with hazy faces of familiar strangers.
Torrents of unforgiving rain sliced through the flimsy canvas,
Drenching me to the very depths of my soul.
The ghoulish black of the consuming night
Engulfed the last embers of surviving hope.
Looking for succor to the lone fading star,
I found it hiding behind impenetrable clouds….
The flimsy stems of the mighty trees, swayed with fervor, in gay abandon.
The blades of light came sharp and cruel,
Making my heart quiver with fear,
But it was the look of lust in the cold stranger’s eye,
That sent waves of fear through my body and soul..
Neither cloak nor night could shield the treasure
From the penetrating gaze of the icy blue eyes.
Wishing for company, from angel, even demon,
On this bare rainy day, I found none….
Even the elements seemed to conspire,
Though ignorant I was of their unfathomable reasons
Clutching at his words for comfort,
And leaning on the reminiscences of the heavenly evening,
I withstood the ravages of the brutal night,
To finally lie in submission, in the lap of the stranger I love the most…………
The child
The vulgar yellow of the peddler’s balloon
Appeals more to her,
Than the intoxicating luster of pure gold.
The tuneless melody from her mother’s lips
Lulls her to blissful sleep
Than the orchestrated music of the mechanical recorder.
Pink cotton candy off the shelf of the sweetmeat seller
Elates her innocent taste buds
Than the immaculate buffet of the sophisticated kitchens.
O God, can’t you give to me,
Her innocent mind, her virgin thoughts,
To help me wade through this sludge of life?
Appeals more to her,
Than the intoxicating luster of pure gold.
The tuneless melody from her mother’s lips
Lulls her to blissful sleep
Than the orchestrated music of the mechanical recorder.
Pink cotton candy off the shelf of the sweetmeat seller
Elates her innocent taste buds
Than the immaculate buffet of the sophisticated kitchens.
O God, can’t you give to me,
Her innocent mind, her virgin thoughts,
To help me wade through this sludge of life?
The abode
The eternal darkness swathed me in complacence.
Isolated, yet unorphaned, I existed in soothing peace.
My immature faculties were not bothered
About the yet undiscovered daylight.
Suffocated by the sea of her joyous tears,
I subsisted on her everyday sacrifices.
Though unrecognized by the outside world,
My arrival was looked forward,
For a reason I couldn’t fathom and by people I didn’t realize.
Unable to even feel the warmth of her selfless love,
I lived like a parasite, greedy and ignorant.
Trying to break free from the confines
Of the wholesome enclosure, I kicked and pushed
At the supple walls of the unlikely prison,
Never aware of the pain I caused and the joy she derived.
One final day, I paved the way
And broke free from the bonds
To land in a world so cruel and bare.
She had borne me with suffering
That would last her a lifetime,
Yet the cord was there, binding me to her,
Unwilling to break, and never to be severed.
I crawled back to her bawling,
And she looked back at me smiling
Through her tears of joy and pain,
Renewing my hopes and wiping away the fears.
But still I long to return
To my initial solitary abode,
For it was there that I learnt
That someone breathed for me,
And loved me even before I was born….
Isolated, yet unorphaned, I existed in soothing peace.
My immature faculties were not bothered
About the yet undiscovered daylight.
Suffocated by the sea of her joyous tears,
I subsisted on her everyday sacrifices.
Though unrecognized by the outside world,
My arrival was looked forward,
For a reason I couldn’t fathom and by people I didn’t realize.
Unable to even feel the warmth of her selfless love,
I lived like a parasite, greedy and ignorant.
Trying to break free from the confines
Of the wholesome enclosure, I kicked and pushed
At the supple walls of the unlikely prison,
Never aware of the pain I caused and the joy she derived.
One final day, I paved the way
And broke free from the bonds
To land in a world so cruel and bare.
She had borne me with suffering
That would last her a lifetime,
Yet the cord was there, binding me to her,
Unwilling to break, and never to be severed.
I crawled back to her bawling,
And she looked back at me smiling
Through her tears of joy and pain,
Renewing my hopes and wiping away the fears.
But still I long to return
To my initial solitary abode,
For it was there that I learnt
That someone breathed for me,
And loved me even before I was born….
The shadow beyond….
The summer heat, scorching and intense,
Vent its fury on his unclothed back.
The load was heavy and food was scarce,
But the will in his heart was well in place.
And so he pulled and trudged his way,
Through ranges, cliffs and heady pines.
His obstinate mind and youthful body
Bowed for nothing but bread and water.
Seasons came and seasons went,
Spring, autumn and desolate winter,
Nothing made him wait or tarry
Though no one dared his burden carry.
Then she came with spring in her eyes and summer in her face,
Shattering his will and slowing his pace.
But his aim was there, to reach the top,
Neither damsel nor demon could make him stop.
So he made her his, and went his way,
And she followed him in tandem sway
Days became months and months, years,
Father time had a small sly smile,
Weakening his will and slackening his pace.
Nevertheless he trudged and dragged,
His raw muscles threatening to break.
Her gentle hands massaged his arms
And soothed his nerves that were badly frayed.
Sweat and blood flowed unabated,
Sending waves of fear through her heart.
She tore her girdle and bandaged his wounds,
Washing them with her virgin tears.
The maiden flowers and fresh spring breeze,
Didn’t impact her in the least.
The rocky path lay before,
The last lap to the ultimate goal.
Spurred by the sight in the distance,
With renewed hope and new found energy,
He bade his failing strength push forward,
Only to stumble on the stones and thorns.
She fetched him water, in her trembling hands,
Egging him on towards the pinnacle.
Pulling himself and his unwilling burden,
He willed himself for the glory that would ensue
The terrible agony that he now endured.
The few seconds seemed eons,
And finally he stood,
On the epoch of victory of his self-made dream.
The thundering applause and heady glory,
Drowned the frantic throbbing of his fragile heart.
His very soul brimmed with elation,
Drinking in the praise and adulation of the vulgar crowd.
In the dust and din that covered his mortal torso,
Her contented smile faded in the distance…
Vent its fury on his unclothed back.
The load was heavy and food was scarce,
But the will in his heart was well in place.
And so he pulled and trudged his way,
Through ranges, cliffs and heady pines.
His obstinate mind and youthful body
Bowed for nothing but bread and water.
Seasons came and seasons went,
Spring, autumn and desolate winter,
Nothing made him wait or tarry
Though no one dared his burden carry.
Then she came with spring in her eyes and summer in her face,
Shattering his will and slowing his pace.
But his aim was there, to reach the top,
Neither damsel nor demon could make him stop.
So he made her his, and went his way,
And she followed him in tandem sway
Days became months and months, years,
Father time had a small sly smile,
Weakening his will and slackening his pace.
Nevertheless he trudged and dragged,
His raw muscles threatening to break.
Her gentle hands massaged his arms
And soothed his nerves that were badly frayed.
Sweat and blood flowed unabated,
Sending waves of fear through her heart.
She tore her girdle and bandaged his wounds,
Washing them with her virgin tears.
The maiden flowers and fresh spring breeze,
Didn’t impact her in the least.
The rocky path lay before,
The last lap to the ultimate goal.
Spurred by the sight in the distance,
With renewed hope and new found energy,
He bade his failing strength push forward,
Only to stumble on the stones and thorns.
She fetched him water, in her trembling hands,
Egging him on towards the pinnacle.
Pulling himself and his unwilling burden,
He willed himself for the glory that would ensue
The terrible agony that he now endured.
The few seconds seemed eons,
And finally he stood,
On the epoch of victory of his self-made dream.
The thundering applause and heady glory,
Drowned the frantic throbbing of his fragile heart.
His very soul brimmed with elation,
Drinking in the praise and adulation of the vulgar crowd.
In the dust and din that covered his mortal torso,
Her contented smile faded in the distance…
Crimson Desire
She struts proud on the polished floor,
Her soles lined with the finest of gold.
Diamonds and emeralds vying to adorn her inviting physique.
She sends them swooning with a flick of her mane,
The concubine in the chambers of even ‘virtuous’ minds.
She haunts my dreams, even living daylights.
I hear her name on the lips of my beloved,
I see her in the fakir’s bowl,
And the longing eyes of the guileless child.
She brings to life, even a near corpse,
And casts her veil betwixt hearts,
That until now had known no knavery.
I want to tear apart her treacherous veil,
And kill her with my bare hands,
The stains of sanguine would adorn them well.
Giving me pleasure beyond Heaven and Hell.
I shall bring the fires from Hell’s own forge,
To burn the traces of her devious hair,
And toss her ashes into the farthest space,
Least anyone even sets their gaze,
On the sinful remnants of her clandestine face.
Oh ye Gods, are you listening?
I ask of you nothing but this,
The will and strength to commit the sin,
Of quenching my thirst for the crimson desire…….
Her soles lined with the finest of gold.
Diamonds and emeralds vying to adorn her inviting physique.
She sends them swooning with a flick of her mane,
The concubine in the chambers of even ‘virtuous’ minds.
She haunts my dreams, even living daylights.
I hear her name on the lips of my beloved,
I see her in the fakir’s bowl,
And the longing eyes of the guileless child.
She brings to life, even a near corpse,
And casts her veil betwixt hearts,
That until now had known no knavery.
I want to tear apart her treacherous veil,
And kill her with my bare hands,
The stains of sanguine would adorn them well.
Giving me pleasure beyond Heaven and Hell.
I shall bring the fires from Hell’s own forge,
To burn the traces of her devious hair,
And toss her ashes into the farthest space,
Least anyone even sets their gaze,
On the sinful remnants of her clandestine face.
Oh ye Gods, are you listening?
I ask of you nothing but this,
The will and strength to commit the sin,
Of quenching my thirst for the crimson desire…….
Forever
The waking hours of the still dawn
Brought with it another day,
Telling her that she had a few more miles to cover,
Before she could rest, in the lap of eternity.
Thus far, she had not noticed what lay in her way,
But today was to be different……..
The virgin rays of the dawning sun
Played with the dew kissed grasses of the early morn,
Effusing an ethereal glow of unearthly radiance,
To the wholesome scene before her eyes.
The door stood slightly ajar, neither attracting nor beckoning.
But it was a solace, a refuge, for her weary mind.
Curious, though uninterested, her entry went unnoticed,
Among the labyrinths of the murky neighborhood.
The walls were dull and the paint was peeling,
But there was something in there,
That touched a chord, and made her sing.
The quaint windows and pallid vents
Brought a subtle scent to the morbid air……
The gentle fire and summer rays
Lent warmth to her frozen heart….
The anonymous strains of soft music
Put to rest the wavering thoughts of her turbulent mind…
The gurgling white waters of the bubbly stream
Put a hint of a smile on her very pale lips….
Her very soul sang the rhythm of life,
For she had found a new meaning,
Amidst pain and strife…
But already, the golden orb beyond, was sinking,
Signifying another end, another dawn……….
She knew in the depths of her reborn soul,
That she could tarry no more,
For she could never belong here…
Her calling was elsewhere,
Though she knew not where,
But her heart would carry the impressions
Of the dawn that opened her eyes
To a new world, a new life,
Forever and forever……..
Brought with it another day,
Telling her that she had a few more miles to cover,
Before she could rest, in the lap of eternity.
Thus far, she had not noticed what lay in her way,
But today was to be different……..
The virgin rays of the dawning sun
Played with the dew kissed grasses of the early morn,
Effusing an ethereal glow of unearthly radiance,
To the wholesome scene before her eyes.
The door stood slightly ajar, neither attracting nor beckoning.
But it was a solace, a refuge, for her weary mind.
Curious, though uninterested, her entry went unnoticed,
Among the labyrinths of the murky neighborhood.
The walls were dull and the paint was peeling,
But there was something in there,
That touched a chord, and made her sing.
The quaint windows and pallid vents
Brought a subtle scent to the morbid air……
The gentle fire and summer rays
Lent warmth to her frozen heart….
The anonymous strains of soft music
Put to rest the wavering thoughts of her turbulent mind…
The gurgling white waters of the bubbly stream
Put a hint of a smile on her very pale lips….
Her very soul sang the rhythm of life,
For she had found a new meaning,
Amidst pain and strife…
But already, the golden orb beyond, was sinking,
Signifying another end, another dawn……….
She knew in the depths of her reborn soul,
That she could tarry no more,
For she could never belong here…
Her calling was elsewhere,
Though she knew not where,
But her heart would carry the impressions
Of the dawn that opened her eyes
To a new world, a new life,
Forever and forever……..
The unfinished mural..
This is the first of my dabbles in poetry....
The path stretched before,
An unending ribbon of mystery,
It was a long journey to this point,
A very eventful one they say
I cannot recollect the very beginnings,
With my intellect, limited as it is, to the sensory pleasures,
But something in me says, I would have started off much better,
For, now I stand on the threshold of my unborn dream,
It stands before me,
Waiting to be shaped and caressed,
My heart reaches out to touch and embrace it,
Forbidden by the origin of the passion, which brought me into this world,
I withdraw my extended hand and tear my eyes away from the alluring scene…
Only to behold a screen of fuzzy images and frightening color.
They assure me with convincing appeal
That things will be better
Trepidation fills my mind,
What will lay ahead…
Should I abandon my dream, my life?
Is life meant to be distorted by
Unseen and omnipresent entities
Which have seemingly no consideration for independent ideals?
The path stretched before,
An unending ribbon of mystery,
It was a long journey to this point,
A very eventful one they say
I cannot recollect the very beginnings,
With my intellect, limited as it is, to the sensory pleasures,
But something in me says, I would have started off much better,
For, now I stand on the threshold of my unborn dream,
It stands before me,
Waiting to be shaped and caressed,
My heart reaches out to touch and embrace it,
Forbidden by the origin of the passion, which brought me into this world,
I withdraw my extended hand and tear my eyes away from the alluring scene…
Only to behold a screen of fuzzy images and frightening color.
They assure me with convincing appeal
That things will be better
Trepidation fills my mind,
What will lay ahead…
Should I abandon my dream, my life?
Is life meant to be distorted by
Unseen and omnipresent entities
Which have seemingly no consideration for independent ideals?
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Random thoughts
Hi guys,
I'm someone totally new to blogging. (U might've written me off as a pre-historical mammal coz I've waited this long to've started blogging, but I'd still like to call myself a late entrant : ) ).
The one thing that propelled me towards doing this is that, all of a sudden, I had a sudden urge to publish all of my poems somewhere. Now, where did this poems thingy come from, u must be wondering. Actually, I am someone who writes when extremely depressed!! Sounds crazy? Well, not really coz I see poems as a way to vent my feelings for whatever issues, publicly but secretively. It is this unique combination of both characteristics that drew me to writing. There are quite a few times when you don't feel good about something, but can't tell that out for the fear that the person concerned may feel bad or offended and your intention is not that. In other cases, you might really want to come out with something, but will find no one waiting for you. Well, that's when I found the pen and paper next to me, and when I put it down, I felt a lot more relieved.
I'm not much of a writer and neither do I have what you can call a Shakespearean vocabulary, but I guess you can judge that for yourself now coz I'm gonna post my poems one by one on this blog and would really like it if you can give your interpretation of each one of these....
I'm someone totally new to blogging. (U might've written me off as a pre-historical mammal coz I've waited this long to've started blogging, but I'd still like to call myself a late entrant : ) ).
The one thing that propelled me towards doing this is that, all of a sudden, I had a sudden urge to publish all of my poems somewhere. Now, where did this poems thingy come from, u must be wondering. Actually, I am someone who writes when extremely depressed!! Sounds crazy? Well, not really coz I see poems as a way to vent my feelings for whatever issues, publicly but secretively. It is this unique combination of both characteristics that drew me to writing. There are quite a few times when you don't feel good about something, but can't tell that out for the fear that the person concerned may feel bad or offended and your intention is not that. In other cases, you might really want to come out with something, but will find no one waiting for you. Well, that's when I found the pen and paper next to me, and when I put it down, I felt a lot more relieved.
I'm not much of a writer and neither do I have what you can call a Shakespearean vocabulary, but I guess you can judge that for yourself now coz I'm gonna post my poems one by one on this blog and would really like it if you can give your interpretation of each one of these....
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