A part of me is sliced tonight
chaffed off my tender heart
The breath is half,
Life becomes half
snatches as the clutches of destiny
from my existence
a part
Somewhere down the years , the bruised portion will grow
balm the wounds with verses of blood
curing pain of the open shredded injuries
A part of me then shall merge,
rejuvenate
coalesce and unite to assimilate finally
like a body converts to ashes
and integrates in the soil
A Life gets over
photocredit:www.theguardian.com
Oh! am god’s clay
soft , tender, smooth
yet can be brittle and tough at times
nay, I ain’t hail
from the breed
of proud ,haughty misnomers
who sparsely realize a drop
of tear worth…
neither they hath seen the
gory of dead or
the dreaded hunger
yet epitomize
words ..larger than life
social and palpable
..they have mugged the
Oxford handset
decks which every word as treasure
alas! never could their heart get drench
in the tragic rain of worries under the
shrouded
rain coat of superficial fashion..
photocredit: googleimages
In the catacomb
lies the book
undusted,flipping pages
across
folds of time…
in sepulcher
rest myriad thoughts
buried emotions
locked inside the heart’s vault’
in labyrinth , like a untangled mesh
they lived weltered
amidst the scallop of mess…
kabbalistic
the epitaph on the stone
reclines in slumber
the manuscript.
looked up, an old fragile flower
gazing at the wide azure
savvying for a drizzle
which perhaps
could
rejuvenate its trembling veins…
in an instant
vanishes, the evanescence
in the zephyr
“O! don’t take ages ..cries the
soul…
in more anguished pain…
suffocates the last breath
here , I strangulate .”
for long I had been
away from thy shelter
sneaking out of thine refuge
warping on false slumbers…
atrophied my stature
besotted I remained,
as the power of free will
diminishes ,
the mind emaciated…
Awhile the orphic shower cleanses
my deepest caverns…
let my petals secrete
at thy humble feet
the good , bad and evil
in a sacred disposition…
Dear friends,
And here starts another year awaiting new horizons, new dreams and aspirations. So with a pinch of zest lets welcome this new dawn.
Wishing you all a very happy new year.
I climb onto the hill of patience
with a pinch of courage and determination
the gusty ,rowdy winds of destruction
in solitary nights
hell bent to break my twig of faith
amidst the air of depression
whence chokes my throat with
tears of emotion…
…Halt I , for seconds
gaze at the impossible structure,
beyond the colossal mountain wherein
lies the orchard of my joy and exhilaration.
with a stroke of red ,full of zest
on the canvas of azure
I walk persistently
unfailingly
unstoppingly
until I reach the
garden of my desires.
Who knoweth the serrated pangs
of the piercing of poisoned dart
Alas! it pierced and pierced.
That nostalgia of the suffocating breath
memories flash in visuals
history held the pen in hand
bleed the pages…
prior being written.
the shrill and softness of the yearn
the quivering voice ,lost in sunburn,
drips through the sides with sweat or raindrops
as the oozing blood from the bruised heart gets frozen…
Brush, I aside the reason,
why and what for,should such happen,
isn’t trust , the jewel of faith,
blind how can be then a soul of reason…
wounded which my existence by charring words
turning me to ash,
…ablaze my integrity and conscience…
I sunk in oblivion
Knoweth not the world
neither can e’er
wish I, the sun dawns
when the ephemeral second arrives
stand when we across…and the mirror shines
Till then thou ! and me shall remain away
from the clutches of time…
photocredit:blog.selfarcheology.com
TRUTH OF LIFE
It’s the truth of life,what we crave for is lost ,
like the golden particles of sand,
that slide between the fingers,
even from a tight fist…
what we cannot hold ,
is the truth of time.
That which flows like a stream
open, unended, unclosed,
incessant,
like the love of a pure heart
unselfish, uncanny, selfless..
Beyond this altruistic reality
is nothing but a mirage,
world of images and fantasies
ready to get crushed by folds of time…
illusions many,
how much we wary
breaks the mirror of our whimsies
in broad daylight.
.
Photocredit:www.terragalleria.com
O! Charioteer!
the rein of my five senses ,
is in your hands,
steer the chariot
to march across the storm
… flung open are the ten doors
guide through which way
I let my soul escape!
photocredit:enlightenedrumi.wordpress.com
Those extreme views which
ne’er hath profited mankind
shreds the skin with a scrape
such thoughts guile and uncanny
knoweth not
this is not progress.
worrying,the situation
the fiend views
filthy minds put all at stake…
how shall the human race survive
how doth this world be saved?
soumyav 