The sight of that immortal sea,
No matter how far it is. Shadowy recollections upon the shore, making feeble waves mighty, every time they wet my feet.
I’m overtaken by a sudden surge of grief; your presence, my relief.
Now I venture into the realm of sleep, riding these gusts of
I’ve felt moments embody eternities, posing to be forever. I’ve had forevers, fast and fickle.
There were times when
The slightest of touch echoed deep within. There were touches that stopped time and then there were lives that ended,
Only to begin again.
In collaboration with Bharath.
Memories. I try and revive a few. My recognition and remembrance are faint.
A dark sycamore of disconnected consciousness lays in repose.
Waves of reason soak into the roots
And I wonder, “why does it stand ashore?”
Green to the very door in wreaths of smoke like a hermit it stands alone.
It’s presence disturbs me with the joy that elevates reminiscence which now sublimes.
Grey seas and soil, black
Moon, half, could fit in my hand
Waves that leap.
Are dreams lost in my sleep
I’m filled with joy, overwhelmed with fear
By voices that speak.
Neither wrong nor right
Time and again, acquainted with the night.
I looked down the city lane
Distressed and unwilling to explain.
“Lead the way!”
The street lights say.
I chase the twilight,
Not here to stay.
Somedays I wonder what crosses your mind, when your eyes meet mine.
When you’re trapped in a terrain so turbulent, a sky so fraudulent;
where you’ve to cage the raging emotions and bottle up an ocean.
When you run out of tricks and stand there, confused!
Hoping someone to come and fix, when it’s just you!
I stand here unseen, trapped by thoughts of you in between. A glance of your face under the setting sun is my well earned possession; when the day is done, no strings attached, unafraid of division. There’s joy followed by pain and loss accompanied my gain.
Why whine about pain and loss? There’s a flow with time, there’s a river and waves that rhyme. Keep walking, I’m right behind.
The wind has agreed to carry, my words in its liberal womb. We will stir awake some trees from sleep and whisper songs beside the lonely tomb.
Yesterdays hide within my heart, shielded by sorrows. I whither slowly, dreaming of tomorrows.
Do you hear me, o resting soul!
This is my lullaby,
My sleep has waned
Do you mind,
If I borrowed?
In collaboration with Bharath. Always a savior!
Everyone has a story,
Behind harsh exterior caught in the crosshairs of mundaneness; reliving the moments, lost somewhere amidst distant memories.
Sun paints the sky as dusk locks it in a cage;
Quietly in solitude,
How night pens the poem and day,
hastily turns the page!
Have you really had a bad day or just 10-20 minutes when you let your thoughts go rogue? When you unintentionally transfer that to ones you love! You say you don’t know?
Come on! You run this shit.
Most of your stress comes from the way you respond not the way life is. I’m quirky, silly, blunt and broken or maybe not; sometimes I trip over my insecurities and Sometimes, I’m lost in thoughts wandering around in turbulence.
I love myself and abhor it at the same moment.
What you read isn’t my story; don’t try reading in between the lines. The words that tell my tales are struck off and horridly concealed. Every happy spell is contaminated by the knowledge of how fleeting such moments are and how life is spent trying to disentangle this contingency. There’s no life on paper, neither […]Words.
When I’m unable to write and he comes to rescue.
Sometimes I long for silence. The terrifying kind, one that implodes in your mind.
The sun melts into twilight, everything happening in a sight.
Glittering sheaves, frail and fluttering leaves.
The wild wind blowing, hark to a voice that is calling. What is most like thee? In a dell of dew, scattering it’s real hue. Teaching me gladness, that my brain must know.
Thoughts come alive, dancing in the symphonies of my mind. The harmonius madness from my lips would flow. The world should listen then, as I’m listening now.
My heart yearns to write but my thoughts are numb and I succumb. I look around for the world, where the hell does it hide?
I looked within to lose myself in a labyrinth, grim. Passages lead to memories, of a soul that’s lost and I follow the voices that called.
They mourn the absence, sing a sad memoir of the one that got away and now we bleed, every hour, slower. I laugh at my naiveté as I fall into the trap and I wonder why I do that?
You may be sure about where your relationship is going but tell me this, how certain are you that it’ll go as planned? You look at the sky and close your eyes trying to feel the energy, thinking about the one you love expecting them to be thinking about you too. Are they? Do you know? The faces we hide and faces we show hate each other. What you see and what it is are contradictory.
Be honest with yourself and you know it.
It isn’t a fiery, passionate emotion that you can empower yourself back from the brink of. It’s quieter and subtler. It’s the acceptance of the idea that it doesn’t really conquer anything. Maybe love isn’t what you thought it was. Maybe it’s all just some grandiose idea we made up to distract ourselves from the exerting realities of living. Maybe none of it was ever built to last. Everything is maybe and we’re still counting on it.
In collaboration with Bharath.
You did something shitty; Something that the untainted part of you wishes you could right the wrongs.
But you can’t! Sometimes, there are no second chances.
And that’s okay! Because it has to be.
The truth is, whether you’re good or bad, it’s simply a story that you tell yourself.
You’re scared; that the person who emerged in you before is going to re-emerge and compel you again, cause chaos again. That story is the muck on your shoes that you drag through the homes of everyone you love until the day you decide to get them cleaned. You’re hiding yourself in darkness and denying the world of your light, the part of you, who’s capable of everything imaginable. The one who knows both light and darkness.
Better and worse.
When self righteousness struggles to curb human perfections.
The first pangs of jealousy
You wish to deny, it’s very existence.
The innate honesty within doesn’t allow.
suffocate, feel like an outcast.
The reason of my misery, I’m blissfully unaware.
Falling into trap
Realization sinks in, that is yearning for something
That I can’t have.
Even as you fall for someone,
In a slow burn,
Things hold you back.
For even as the cynic that you may be,
A part of you finds a reason to believe again.
This actuality onerous,
A mockery sometimes.
In all the dark spite,
There is still a flame of hope of acceptance.
There is yet an emptiness, pervading
That waits to be filled by that someone’s existence.
They take me for granted because I care, sometimes too much. I’ve been told.
I feel like shit, like my lungs ran out of air.
When you’re always available for them, you break; like a feeble stem.
There’s a devil and a deep blue sea;
The world is turning, the bridges are burning! The devil drags me under and says “the higher you go, the harder you fall.”
It’s like a leap of faith; it was a choice but I blame it on fate.
And there you stood, alone, fading into nothingness, floating away with the waves.
But don’t they know? Even the strongest feeling broken into fragments expires too!
He was scarred, she was broken.
He was resilient, she was hopeful.
He hid his dark cynicism under a thick volatile skin.
Her laughter like bells rankled his darkness.
She had no reason to be unhappy and yet she was.
He had no reason to be happy and yet he was.
The more she wanted him,
the more life swept him away.
The more she wanted to weaken,
the more hardened and puzzling she became.
Struggling to reach out and say it out loud
Convincing herself they were different.
She hid him in plain sight and walked out into the same light.
Sometimes it is hard to accept.
When two parallel lines,
Well matched, complimenting one another, blind to the irony.
Running next to eachother,
With no point of contact.
Sometimes it’s best to let things be!
Their paths had to cross briefly.
Helpless? She is!
Smiling at the irony.
An impossible eternity.
Sometimes you’re toxic;
Invasive, intrusive and inconsistent.
Sometimes you’re mean,
Head chaotic and stained.
Sometimes you push people away,
hiding your feelings anyway.
Sometimes you fear sleepless nights,
You open your eyes and it’s still dark.
Sometimes your demons make noise,
Even when you step into the light.
Sometimes your world grows dark,
and you see nobody to wrap you in their arms.
When did emptiness get so heavy?
Questions that exist
Are answered with silence.
Blessings are cursed and curses turn into blessings.