
Rhetoric

wandered I on various lands
ov’r seas, ov’r bridges
strolled on sands and
walked through indefinite contours
every land donned
a new robe,
a new colour
of hope ,
of belief
of religion
and
each thought,
each urge,
each craving
converges to the same destination
THE CREATOR
Paths many , journeys different
all under the same azure
witness the sun and moon while playing hide and seek
from their co ordinates
innumerable ways to elevate and transcend
ceaseless is the travel
there’s lot to discover
get set go and
breathe
in different atmospheres
before it ends…
©SoumyaVilekar
Dried , my ink with the dryness of my heart
bloodless have been my veins
thus the pen moves empty
scribbling lifeless words
meaningless thoughts
swiping away desires ,
eroding emotions
the heart stranded bruised and over bruised
with thousand wounds..
No, blood can’t be infused back
I run incessantly with blemishes
Life screams
soul weeps..
What do selfish wants and gruesome lies do to a human? The stature of a human being falls below any level and exhibits the egocentric character. For once, the person descends into the pit of suffocation, where conscience plays its role,hereafter.
The Monologue of a covetous gambler !
gossip I in the corridor of lies,
dwells where the queen
burning in envy bright…
the timid , quiet truth sits in a corner
watching the powerful blow
might of the false emperor…
sometimes withered , sometimes cornered
the creeper of truth can’t grasp
firmly the wall of belief,
falls it, hopelessly,
while dig I the roots
underneath the soil mature…
The world reckons ,my stature
I , covetous gambler.
Oh! what’s this!
why am I suffocating , what smoke is this
filling the corridor…?
Alas! Is it my own selfish endeavor
in burning the roots of verity
I char my own … fingers.
Isn’t the orchid pale today or
the azure lost its hues in frosty weather
the pink lilies too
seem dull
when the dusk appears little purple than
the scarlet pier…usual
forgotten in dead remains
as ashes they scatter in dust
reminiscences of the beloveds
who died one fateful night
last summer…
again prevails the same climate
transforms the camouflage of
flowers and world
Tis the sky who alone
remembers the fury
repercussions of war
in cold blooded atmosphere…
sulks the orchid tonight…
purple appears the crimson lover
stained in blood drops
dried and desiccated as humans of universe.
Who knows thou! sings the baul
his fingers struck the single chord
the solo of duality , he hums
in remnants of the grief stricken
some old souls, few shattered and broken
Oh ! does it require to be a tatterdemalion
or a ramshackle old pier
to whisper the tunes of eternal weather
while plays the
impulse of seeking the invisible
or knowing Him through
the world visible…
The rampant hunger and
lingering thirst arrives wherefrom
in the arteries of singing legends
is it necessary to be in a deplorable condition
to call and cry for
the cosmic creator!
why forgets the mind of many
bask who in sun of pleasure…
its going to be dark soon
whence shall it find the light for right direction?
photocredit: aduphoto.com
The setting sun today spoke
of tragedies and sorrows
amidst the life of a day
the goblet of fire too
weeps at conjecture
left when its beloved in arms of the night miserable
who engulfs,
the sweetness of melody,
the music of nature of its arrival…
haunting the innocent birds to their nests
shivers the sky
man trembles…
O! human, you knoweth not,
I worry for my beloved,
the immaculate earth, untill the next day ,
when I return
of the nights terror…
she sleeps alone, cuddling ,
while the sky cries,
the earth gets misty…
Alas! I must leave
you
to the fate of your own destiny.
Dim the hope , bleak appears the future in every grain of the field’s harvest rests the destiny of poor . while the ones who had a silver spoon hardly noticed the worth of a grain… a morsel was all… for a day, while the couple sleeps under the leaking roof of the shelter with a noise of roaring stomach in emptiness . One who grows the crop for millions feeds whose stock the children of everyone… he has the glass full of water until the morning sun dawns and he toils again till his last measure. The irony of life tonnes of food being thrown in spills as leftovers , in garbages, while the farmer remains famished .
through the broken pane of thy window,
peeps the silvery streak
glows thine radiance in luminous waves
why doth it then steal
the charm of thy cheeks,
knoweth it not,
thou art mine,
mingles it in thy silken locks,
rusheth out quickly,
hiding behind the grey peaks …
photocredit:wifflegif.com
I see a monster on every shoulder Thou! named stress of responsibility what needs one for survival two square meals and a shelter to live? why hath then the demon crushed the flower of mental peace gobbling up moments of happiness dancing on heads with a satanic mischief. Why carries the man then burden can there ever be a limit to desire luxury, comfort are monetary matters tranquility can’t be gained by this measure… wealth stands helpless in joy and satisfaction whilst an affluent man is clenched too by this monster. How far would you carry the Goliath smash this Lil’ devil off your shoulder unburdening useless pressure breathe freely in the enchanting nature walk in joy with conciliation, between the tussle of worry and placidness the heart wins with self-confidence and valor.