Reusting

The surge through my veins,
Entrails enthrall free,
No left of even feign,
Such is wait for seeing thee.

Gathering strength lost of control,
Cuts of thousands shards left grown,
Quenched to merriment greater in droll,
Sanity refused to requite and thrown.

Forced a tip and pierced pryless,
Into me own, isth emptied this room,
Strong felt and stronger by bless,
Power from nothing, and all and doom.

Conflict so welcomed, created from earth,
For it is I, who gave it its birth,
To make happy, a word of relax and broke,
Brittle being a bit heavy, fine too little to choke,
Resting in peace, resting in wait,
Rusting in milieu, rusting in wait,
Impending will seem gloom, wait there's much more,
Unearth the joyful start, does end accompany bloom.

Pie

I read too much and write too less,
Be glad, I fret, for you did do heaven bless,
Words come hard, fly faster some days,
Maybe they've left, or lost in some ways.

Unbeckoned tears, unbeknownst angst,
Paving way for more, rotting above my langst,
Left now to cringe, in terror of pending light,
Darkness embraced, isth only nectar to sight.

Madness forgone, too sane for the soul,
Worse needed to capture, worse to win the ghoul,
Knelt in meditate, door to insanity close,
Time to bury now, with time must I rose.

Feared by forevers, the silent dark shrouds,
When path to one of dual, unveiling stark dark clouds,
Quick pass the light, quicker lie to rest,
Next as is always, the day the very best.

In Merry

What to say, what to do?
What to feel, being old or new?
Think not far, trash the tense,
Life's stink ignore, ignite the incense,
Seek to fly, take the world,
Leave the zone, and enjoy the world.

Unattained

Who decides what's right or wrong?
Who decides who's weak or strong?
Who decides which's short or long?
Who decides when's poetry or song?

Is it God, who sees all?
Or is it nature, suffering our fall?
Or is it us, vain in kingly call?
Or is it even bigger, and we are too small?

Why the worry, why the ask?
Why deviate, when drowned in task?
Why look above, where is hope to bask?
Why not close sight, for who will shed mask?

If we find, will we know?
Whence we came, whence the snow?
So many questions, so much compass flow,
At last the questions end, or is it just a show?

Forced Folly

This draws a parallel the mighty pen and sword. Presented in a different style.

Here lie some words,
Banal maybe like swords,
Or have they acumen some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Having no reason like swords,
Or are they needed some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Keeping you hostage like swords,
Or do they free you some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Opening hurts like swords,
Or can they close wounds some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Unsure just like swords,
Or have they verity some?
For words are more to come.

Here lie some words,
Fighting the worlds like swords,
Or can they join worlds some?
For words are more to come..

Return to Abnormal Glory

Time to be prodigal again, time for the happy spree,
Shackling ever-looming misery, time to give again glee.

Lost would not even be near,
To describe what hence would be to fear,
Of the loss of aim and forgotten to be,
Which almost merged with destiny.

Lucky to escape, sorry to be,
What was unholy, what was not me,
The drops built up, of empty and laze,
Until the sands emptied, and got good the vacuum maze.

Came all flooding back, oh sorry! Not so Soon!
But nevertheless. the loss of zero, is as ever was lovely a boon.

Great things are many, yet greatest is the grave,
That once you sink in valley, fate cannot any but save,
The catch being the past, how bleakly it could hide,
The bleaker the better, for the faster from valley can ride,
Up towards the sun, up up and away,
Discarding all the placent, time to regain the way.

The days gone have returned, the time gone has come,
There came to be hollow many, now there won't be less even some,
Abnormalcy has returned, oh how merry is that to we?
Just the time for my glory, the time you cry for me.

Anymore the Same Insane

The days I remembered golden and gory,
When I used to share many a heartbreak story,
Oblivious to the wrying being unfolded hoary,
When that brilliant banal fool I was made to unglory.

It had begun with a sudden conscious stroke,
Ma(r)king me the fairy tale rich broke,
But forgiving even a even valedictory poke,
Receded away in jiffies, lost in time's spoke.



What changed, I talk to me,
That I stopped savouring my sorrow and glee,
Overnight, turned from fair to foul,
Freed from the joys of pain drenching my soul?



It's good I feel, it's lethal I know,
The solution to this contrary how to endow?
Forget the past, what it bestow?
Portals myriads, now so eager to go unslow.


Or do I change but remain with time,
Following the same lovely dorky rhyme,
The way as has been of my life of crime,
Allowing the odd one a chance to shine?



Answers I can if tried conceive,
Defeating the purpose of puzzling this sieve,
And knowing  this one has more reasons for you to grieve,
Being of chaos, leaving unsung I now take leave.

Love Story

Eluded me had love, for years and spuriously so,
Those days of yore when looked upon are, worth a laugh today, yet were teary that long while ago,
I used to wander the barren world, condoned & nonplussed, mileau replete with dogmatic drones,
On the path of hopelessness bestowed, vilely veiled as charity, left to rot all dead and alone,
But never were good times too far away, which time itself witnessed and now narrates,
For they were always within me as you, waiting to be kindled, and to with my tiny dreams very eagerly relate,
I returned since to the path of happiness, too quick to know, too propitiously blurred to see,
And never again I promised will I cry, whether or not in my life life happiness & gloom be,
As you my princess, gradually graced my life, with your life shared whole, with your glow and with your glory,
And wrote in the eternal pages of time, not just your or mine, but ours only ours, lovely Love Story...

Happy Valentine's Day

The first letter of each line........

Highs and Lows, a very part of life they seem,
And yet highs & highs only, in my life there has been,
Peers are often prone to suspect, but that chance I no more got,
Poor was I in probity too; in due time such vices I forgot,
You are the reason for all this my dear, yes you're the reason for all.

Valiant and ferocious when it came to protect,
Affable and austere when I craved comfort and & respect,
Leaving each other's past behind, leaving all other hate,
Ennui never encouraged, you became my perfect mate,
Nights of comforting rests you gave,
Times many of cherishable memories were saved,
In my heart the flood gates had been closed,
Never had I thought they could open the way you showed,
Everyday little by little, the rock melted into lava sans strife,
Since you cam into my life oh my dear, since you came into my life.

Days have gone by, many more days still remain,
A hope in my heart so always booms, that together we can assuage all & any disdain,
You are that reason for all hopes my dear, yes you are that reason and I pray will always be.

The Convicted Judge

It's been so long, thanks to the paucity of time these days(read months/years)...!! Anyways, this is a new one; Alternate stanzas represent the two alternate egos:

The gavel thumps again, trying to probe an ache in my heart,
As I stand today in public, pent up into myself,
Deploring not foreseeing, this end from the very start,
Wondering whether the means of it, really stand justified.

The convict stands prosaic and spent,
Thankfully not with an act of mercy, hoping to be petitioned in vain,
He still looks younger than the usual us, a courtesy his so called crimes may have lent,
A crime which I remember again, today everyone condemns, but no one commits.

I go back into memories, those days of honesty and gloom,
Everyone was like me, unlike today, when I'm alone,
A weather true, without pretense, sans hypocrisy loomed,
Alas, the fate of mine, now lies with people not human anymore,
But revered morons, who've escaped truth too long to know.

What's he thinking, I ponder as all fall silent?
What has he even done, to be here, in this court of spurious glee,
Except to admit, that he has emotions true,
Like love and hatred, unmasked without any dent?
In a world which has now rendered unlawful,
Ever not smiling, with or without any reason.

I hope no more now, all I have left is my pride,
For I know I am true, and I know the world knows it too,
They're just afraid poor people, afraid to face the hollow, on which their carpets now ride,
Only I am left of the truth, and in a few moments, I won't be there too,
And all that will be left is this peaceful world, with people at war,
With their own selves, unable to come out anymore, unable to howl in pain,
For it is an iniquitous crime now, to feel emotions, and to feel pain.

His innocence is too brilliant, to be condoned by our society of today,
I am a part of the crowd, a puppet with powers, to break free the restraints,
But I choose not to, choosing the easy way, of conforming without thinking, as it hurts,
So I finally happily convict the esoteric ignoramus to death,
And feel the noose I've bestowed to him just now,
Laugh like us all, and tighten around my neck.

On the Otherside

Crying for the first time, today courtesy myself,
I realize this act, whence this scene unveils,
Clandestine and ignoble, marked by maybe spurious remorse,
Outperforms in blackness, all deeds I've authored till date.

There's nothing I can do, except those I don''t want to,
Even as a soul tears before me for me, as I watch helpless,
With tears not mine, tearing the two it sees,
Except staying silent, as unutterables are spoken.

I have failed to value things dear, condoned recognizing a chance of redemption,
Have no other option than to go, seeking amnesia of this dream,
Of pain, of lies, of lust, and heartbreak; and in vain, just gone,
With remnants the worst: a lesson, which wasn't worth learning in hindsight.

Life has taken a new turn, anticipated not in the wildest,
Proving once again, that it has a reason for being this namesake,
And my past flashes before me, which I used to detest,
I so weak wish weakly, to go back there, to better be than the present.

The seeds have now been sown, a monster might as well be growing,
Which gives no shade, bears no fruit, only unluck, as will fall on me,
And my lament does and will continues, unable to grasp the done,
With that faint hope that the bad ending, will present itself after I leave this journey.

Fullmoon

And I ask her sudden, "Why aren't you veiled today?"
She says, "Ask me else, for today I'm honest and true,"
Gloriously above me, calm and sooth,
I wonder in awe, what verity should I want to know,
I ponder and ask, "Then tell me what is love?
The mirage that plagues many, forcing emotions untrue,
Haunting all beings, tell me, I ask you,"
She says, "I know not love, for I've been alone for aeons,"
I get confused, "But I see so many in heavens, shining with you,
Don't they love your beauty, and crave your serenity too?"
Her gaze turns torn, struggling to cry,
I wait, for composure, deploring puppetting the show,
She just smiles wry at last and says,
"I'm nothing but an illusion, lifeless is my real form,
For they who give you life and birth, are who myself I've borrowed from..."

Happy New Year

And, here's another one of my first letter of every line poems...

Wiser left a lot, and leaving this year so soon,
I wait for the new era, of fifty two weeks, of hopeful boon,
Silently mournful, of all the events that have led to memories,
Having all those sorrowful times of detoured destinies,
Yet there were priceless moments too, impalpable in worth,
Often condoned, for I failed to see joy, in bright old days and evening swarth,
Unthanked, they though lingered, balancing the gloom, with as much glee,
And I now on this last day, all facile lessons, can so limpidly see,
Verily experienced, than a self an year younger, ready for future's freight,
Every year, the same thoughts exist, yet the difference, felt in their weight,
Return will I to the beginning again, to a new page for all the days, waiting for their ends,
Year later one, compiled, to form a new chapter, of the book of life God sends,
Hastier than time itself, this waiting patience, now bearing much thinner than brim,
As I assume there's no more to this year, waiting till midnight, another perfunctory whim,
Purely trying to be obdurate, for the last few seconds, being the unreal king,
Painting the canvas left, with water, searching to fill the space, left nowhere within,
Yawning to the lullaby of quietus, felt surreal, just not heard, to sleep,
Now this gets rare, as tomorrow when I wake, I will get a new year to keep,
Envious I will cease to be, of all others, as all will become at par in time,
Where the hourglass will have been flipped, waiting for the sands to chime,
Years later will I I ponder, the same way write and think?
Each year passes, so, will the next too, like each those petaled water, in a restless blink?
And the answer unrevealed now, will inexorably await me after next fall,
Referring to this day of past, when I was wishing, a Happy New Year to all.

Distressed

A sudden day, after awakenment, feeling feeble, I try to rise,
Only to fail, stalled in oblivion, the world turning dark,
And cold, too much to bear, time to pay the price,
Of all my worries, tensions and fear, I had failed to mark,
To be haunted, as in those nightmares soothing, dying,
Losing sanity in a moment, vision of life turned to ashes,
A day off is now here, I can skip yet, I keep on trying,
To wake into proper, to gather myself, as time passes,
Fast and glorious, leaving me behind, as it always has,
I wonder the problem, sudden it just seems,
Lie so many reasons scores, hidden from realization for survival,
They just need a tap, to fall into conscious realms,
And as they unveil, all falls into place, marking my silent age's arrival,
Heeded at last, bound to bind, my soul and body to earth,
Flat on my back, refusing to let me go, even for yet another day,
I close my eyes, losing hope, finally accepting it's the start,
Of a few days of rest, to forget those fears, waiting for me to wash away.

There There

That random poem you write when your classes get cancelled and you're sitting idle in college telling yourself 'there there'(the first letter of each line)...

This freaky moment of hopeless pain,
Hardly felt, so much imbibed inside for long,
Everyday since those first tears, everyday since joy was doomed,
Remedied by the pain, of the fake smile over the wrecked soul,
Eventuality waiting, with the true smirk it holds...

True it's insanity, as practiced by all,
Hating for hypocrisy, so much what we are,
Everyday it continues, refusing quietus, our shame,
Replete to the brim, the lost hope of hope over the tears,
Expecting the very unexpected, that we will freely laugh again...

Little Story

Mind blowing... I mean, padhna mat, mind ghumke sach main kharaab ho jayega... Isse statutory warning samajh lo bas... Par kabhi kabhi ghatiya poems bhi likhni chahiye, or else the great ones, cease to be valued...

A short story of my little love, I will say today,
I was sitting there idle and listening, when I saw her one day,
Looked impeccably common, yet a glow glistened around her,
I had noticed many times before, but never so intently, had I attended her,
All love takes really is a moment I knew, when I that day suddenly saw her...

A short story of my little love, I will say today,
It should've started earlier again, but ended up beginning on May,
I was too busy, sorting out life as I wanted it to be,
Too much of a fool I was to feel, that I can control my destiny,
As soon as it ends, the start is bound, and as they say, there is no end to melody...

A short story of my little love, I will say today,
It hasn't been a while, it hasn't been years, still with her I would want to fervidly stay,
You might think oh again, it's all an old story, worth encore a forget,
I beg to differ, however my friend, for each moment is special, with each person if you let,
The nectar is eternal & hopeful, just waiting to be drunk, like the sun rises everyday, although it's bound to set...

A short story of my little love, I will say today,
She is somewhere in this city, oblivious to in my life, how much her need, this moment is supposed to lay,
I want it this way too, forever hidden, obscured my love, by this veil of reality to be wrapped,
Leaving her as she is, hopping in my memory, as the moon white and far, unable to be trapped,
Just another reason to smile, a thousand time she is, knowing I once saw her, in the very moment cupid tapped...

Now I end the story, accepting it never began, boring life will be as it was, time will keep running, as it has always ran,
I revealed nothing my friends, just a few jumbled thoughts, for the rest of what has happened and will,
Is also unknown to me, I just said whatever I could remember, scrounging through my needs,
In these times perilous, of manipulated life's memories, you will wish I never return, for this hasn't been much of a story,
So sorry this wasn't great, I never promised would be, I just wanted you to know, how much confusing a little love can be...!!

Depleted Mother

I walk alone on this yellow stretch,
Vivid and dark, awating wretch,
I remember not how I come to be here,
The memory of the start, I can no more bear,
I walk alone on this yellow stretch,
Awaiting the end of this dream, awaiting wretch...

I run alone through the barren field,
Empty and lost, given to greed,
Trees all missing, only remnants of a brough,
I see thorned vampires, where leaves used to grow,
I run alone through the barren field,
Given to the deep of this dream, given to greed...

I swim alone in this deep deadly ocean,
Where nothing swims anymore, and only scales solemnly burn,
Devoid of life, all the marine left to die,
It was once breathing, before compelled to cry,
I swim alone in this deep deadly ocean,
Where I dream this deadly dream, and only scales solemnly burn...

I fly alone in this sky so vast,
Here too I see no one, surely I'm the last,
The few smoky things there are, they never seem to heed,
Feathers bundled in blood, claws of last need,
I fly alone in this sky so vast,
In vain I hope this dream will end, surely I'm the last...

Now all that remains for me is maybe not to feel the pain,
That the earth suffers for us for all our needless gain,
Shall I too ignore its plea, and take all her salt and rock?
Or is it time to rise again, destroy the ticking clock?
Now all that remains for me is maybe not to feel the pain,
Lest I object to my luxury, and to all our needless gain...

The Name

Religion teaches renouncement, but love is bliss,
Adhere to that dogma, and that bliss you'll surely miss,
Deep inside our mind, what exists will die with us,
Hoary though yet love will remain, in our heart full of blush,
Isled in an ocean all alone, although hope can make us thrive,
Kindness and honour wagered in war, in the end, love can always survive,
Another heartbreak on its way, now I sense but in vain,
Jabbing the heart with all its might, another cause digging that brutal old pain,
Availing an open scar, healed for a rougher tomorrow now again,
I embrace the love with its might, I embrace the light, I embrace the rain,
New beginning, again hoped for as in each time I fall for a you,
I fail each time alright, and this time too, with or without you,
Living dead I will be rendered, after this period of amazement and lust,
On a bleak rocky terrain of the desert, in a dead ship, me wailing on its mast,
Vanity shed, hurt gained, memories of present, waiting to be the past,
Every time that happens, rejection and gloom, every time I think its the last,
Years go by, I heal and love again, I never cease to grow like that tree,
On the ground, in that fairy tale, love nurtured in my heart, I begin to live for thee,
Usable again, recycled and alive, each time searching again, life for its destiny.

Period

Today in coaching Sir came a little bit too late, so during that time, I wrote up one, trying to bring what my senses were perceiving during that period into words...

About the center of the room, I sit poker faced,
Silence shed as in those moments rare,
Sitting with a friend, commotion embraced...

Here I wait, prepared to study,
To add more to the knowledge already muddy,
Here I sit, with a new buddy,
Waiting for peace, so that I may study...

It's a normal room, under the ground,
Where pupils come, for time some sound,
Grouped in hours, boundaries blurred,
Gossips and books, cascaded so fine,
I imprint in memory, this moment now mine...

In that crowd, upon a beaming beauty I gaze,
To my dismay & relief, she emerges a maze,
Looks so virtuous yet so vile, a tangle of thoughts,
Submerged in herself, while her friend beside talks,
Many more are around her, still I see her lonely,
Because everytime I look up, it's now her I see only...

Suddenly a foolish thought, brushes my shocked mind,
Can she be the one, who I am born to find?
I shove it aside swiftly, learned from the past,
These moments come often, but never do they last,
And this too will end, when the class begins,
But as long as it lasts, dazed I will be,
Hidden from her eyes, while I see only she...

I swing my view around, reluctantly away from her,
Flinging her image away, as a distant star,
What are others thinking, ask to myself me,
Later feeling the wrong, for they were not born free,
They think what told, they do what told,
They shout like no tomorrow, that's the only thing untold,
And now I must go, for shortly class will begin,
Leaving these precious moments behind, barely felt, always unseen...

Towards Light

When life is tough, it hurts,
And that's an old story,
When the fight is over,
No matter who won,
Those who are dead,
Have a divine glory,
You know their value,
Know their valour,
Know what the chose to be,
Life is no different,
You have to fight sans death,
Keep the courage,
And that's an old story...

Cliche lines, daily quotes,
Have turned now grey and hoary,
My love was blind & yours was missing,
My heart bled all and I was broken,
I felt so low, devoid any glee,
My eyes unfocused, mind wanting to flee,
Same words as before, same do they mean,
So I say skip the past, for that's an old story...

Old is gold, rare moments come,
When this line fails to stay true,
It's actually tarnished, demoned and lone,
The old only remains fit,
To pave the path for a life new,
Keep trodding, and feel the fear,
Of the unknown future, what it has,
And know that it is better, than the lovely pain,
The past has reminded, time and again,
Hold on to the lessons, and forget the tears,
What else to say, that's an old story...

Think of advancing, like a baby ignorant,
Along the time, as it goes,
From darkness to light,
From moments to ages,
From blissed to blessed,
From agony to blossom,
From night to day,
From seconds to time,
From me to us,
From you to thee,
From race to trots,
From trails to paths,
From life to love,
And from fury to fear, overcome though,
From reading to feel,
From freedom to freed,
From vanity to sane,
Which I hope you'll be,
And I as always, as abrupt it may seem,
Say goodbye now, with this old story...