Change is like …

“Change is like the water slipping in through the tunnels to the fields, without change there ain’t going to be any harvest!”

Categories: change, life, politics,justice,society,corruption,women, the mind | 23 Comments

That word..

The word is not be defined, it likes its much coveted delusional existence,

Groaning in a soul, whimpering in silence, exuberant in its momentary success,

A breath blowing into another breath, so close is the flesh, eyes whisper and lips tremble,

Shaking within, expecting a sudden exhilaration that throws you upwards, is it the path to your haven?

Like one suddenly found the point of incidence of existence, the touch of another that binds you to you..

Yet as the affected being sways, floats in a daze of hope, he seeks only..only his hearts contentment,


Much of his nature is now brittle, corroding, and flecks of him…of you dissolve in the definition,

Corrupted do you feel is your stance on the existence of it, fooled are you.. in denial..

The swinging pendulum of your time an axe that swipes through you,

How might you define that shrivelled being in you, thwarted by that noumenon’s definition?

Looking to the heavens, do you wish to escape from yourself?


Do you wish to undo all that you did to yourself, do you understand that we mentor the demons and angels- Love’s offspring

We breed what kills us.. we forget there is more than just another being..

We cripple ourselves, unable to walk around the world to find the enchantments that bind us to this nature..

Blinded.. by need, by taught verses of it..of love..that word..

It’s a need to exist for that which mirrors you.. the reflection in the pond ain’t enough..

There is much of nature in us, in vain we try to find our equilibrium in another unstable host..

Defining existence, defining it is like to trying to strangle infinity..We stretch shredding and peelling ourselves to pieces..

Instead of entwining ourselves around the light of nature..


As you dribble your soul through this plot.. the parables of your life which you wretch and sing..

Living poetry is life…

The coveted delusional has a mind of its own.. we might never see through it..

Let the wretched love flow in your veins till you die.. so might have lived an epic of a life..

At sundown.. drown that gaping hole.. sooth those sculpted scars ..with colors of bright dimming sun-the son of nature

And yet..

I loved you.. like I will  love no other..

I loved like love was all that existed…

I love you through the fog that drapes around you..

I felt like I knew I would love you like this.. I can only hope it sleeps soundly as I walk away to life..

And I loved you in different ways.. love is pain.. love is death.. love is fortitude.. it’s a whim just as life is..

Categories: life | Leave a comment

To See The Moth..

The twisty taut autumn leaf, curled at the curved edge in perfection, lay solitary on the white marble

Impersonating a mermaid sitting pretty, her beautiful head tipped to the sky in arrogant aristocracy,

A summer afternoon, blinding light, crashed on the stone, reflecting life from above and around,

An optical illusion, peculiar a sight, a moth on cold stone, in the broad day light,

Blunt ended stem- an antenna, Pointy yet blurred in the shadow,

I tiptoed closer, waiting for the creature to flutter away dreading a monster,

But, Alas the leaf was only ever a leaf in singularity,

Yet do you observe the beauty of light, the illusions you see,

Object and shadow meet in the light, merged to portray an allusion to thy eye,

The moth was a work of an artist, depicting the wholesome nature of a leaf, only if it could fly,

Probable patterns below the painted reality, underneath the chosen colors as we see it,

After the tide that swung to the day, maybe as night floated its blanket, the moth would flit away, flap its frail wings into the dark night;

The illusion only a perception if percepts the mind as so, but a reality if darkness crept underneath and flared its wings,

The nature I see in you, the nature you see in your shadow –thy reflection, could they fuse,

Merged shades of the two,

Your colorful physic in my eyes and the psyche reflected in the plane glass in your iris, Could I see both?

The words that depict your soul’s song, a poet- an eagle, you climb onto his scales, sailing on the winds above to watch the world within from within,

A painter freezing the infinite reflected in the shards of his soul into his art,

A voice enchanting your mind as your psyche sinks beneath the waves, you are swept away into the ocean in your soul,

I see the shadow; and I see a static structure designed by illuminating beams, a form containing the formless,

Oh how would I ecstatic a feeling I would feel, love with not a shadow, but wholesome..

To see the moth flutter away, fearless into the shimmer- less night,

One must capture the structured reality- the persona –an illusion and the illusion within it reflected-the shadow,

Then maybe the leaf-static to the eye and the shadow blurred, would metamorphosize into the winged alluring soul-the moth… the wholesome existence of the artist as each is coming to light in the dark.

Categories: life | 2 Comments

Tongue foreknown yet unknown

“Do you remember what Darwin says about music? He claims that the power of producing and appreciating it existed among the human race long before the power of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories in our souls of those misty centuries when the world was in its childhood”.- Aurthur Conan Doyle I could not help reblogging this post, when I came across that quote, because that is what I almost meant in my poem, it so wonderful sometimes to find resonating thoughts turn up in different ways and in such quotes. It is sometimes so difficult to speak or connect with people even when you really want to, there are so many barriers that have been built in the structure we have given to our lives. But Music and Poetry is that one level that can walk through those walls if the souls listen at the same wavelengths. Sometimes I find language, words so very limiting, because they are like the middleman, trying to express what the soul is breathing as it thinks. But you see, a bit of the exhaled breath is lost,but music ain’t like that. Many a times silence suits better,  it weaves and portrays much more. Though poetry does channel it well, it is almost like music or should I say it is music. Good music gives one a high, but the one must listen, really listen.

I am just going to share this link I came across, couldn’t help this sudden impromptu post. Happy Writing, singing, reading..creating basically:)


Tongue Foreknown Yet Unknown

Heart pines for the soul that rises to speak in a tongue foreknown yet unknown, un-bred, untamed..

A soul found in itself, or in the gatherings of mortals..

But mortals speak in language divided,

Immortal fore-born incantations scattered beneath the burden of learnt dialects..

A magic waits to be reawakened from the holy waters of a newborn’s innocence,

It dwells not on mere designs, written and learnt expressions, tickles of defined sensations,

But to the poetry in man’s wonder, wide-eyed blended in whole and earthed in absolute to his virgin nature..

Pure as a child even as he rose on his limbs reaching for raw or ripened fruits he knew not of..

None knew the other; none knew the cause for existence, None pined for a mere sense of purpose..

None knew of the lands stretched afar, none knew of the seas that gulped the air…

View original post 141 more words

Categories: life | Leave a comment

Tongue foreknown yet unknown

Tongue Foreknown Yet Unknown

Heart pines for the soul that rises to speak in a tongue foreknown yet unknown, un-bred, untamed..

A soul found in itself, or in the gatherings of mortals..

But mortals speak in language divided,

Immortal fore-born incantations scattered beneath the burden of learnt dialects..

A magic waits to be reawakened from the holy waters of a newborn’s innocence,

It dwells not on mere designs, written and learnt expressions, tickles of defined sensations,

But to the poetry in man’s wonder, wide-eyed blended in whole and earthed in absolute to his virgin nature..

Pure as a child even as he rose on his limbs reaching for raw or ripened fruits he knew not of..

None knew the other; none knew the cause for existence, None pined for a mere sense of purpose..

None knew of the lands stretched afar, none knew of the seas that gulped the air below the land,

How did they sing aloud their soul’s agony? How did they free one lisp of emotion from other?

Just a touch, a tone that rose from the soul, Music to the forlorn ears..

Residing for the first time in the universe as though universe didn’t exist..

Feeling their existence in the breath of others,

And the language of eyes, of touch, of music in the sound of their chords,

The soul muttered incantations unlearnt yet felt and understood,

A closeness we moon for in depths of our hearts, but know not the diction,

The syllables that merge sprinkling in silent whispers dew from the heart’s breath, sink they might through the walls of our soul..

A musical connotation juggling through the atomic presence of life… flowing from the heart strings.. Escaping the parted lips of the unseen child…

Categories: life | 8 Comments

Oh Shush Shush

A piercing splinter tears apart the soul’s periphery.

I ponder; did a cane pass through dragging, leave behind what it wouldn’t miss?

Or a rose placed artfully on the soul grow on its thorn, It was plucked leaving behind the prickly bit..

It’s such a blur; it won’t stall for a moment of retrospect or introspect,

Breath is the wind blowing the wretched splinter in circles, a horrendous stormy weather,

It leaves thy home in a pile of powdery remains, clustered fragments of curtained images…

It leaves thy inner child panting and wheezing, clutching in places,

Colored in red-brown dust, the color of eyes, the color of blood,

 A darting arrow from the eyes of the strangest stranger splits it open..

The color of the red syrup slurps through the tear, The wound is to be dug deeper before healed..

The heart is to die again..and again and again.. 

In penance for the acts of desperation; Death of the heart is necessary,

Pain is an addiction, It traps your breath, But you are left feeling alive, just alive is the real alive;

It is audaciously exchanged for the empty vastness, where one is not in the desert, but beneath it..


Oh shush shush, silence the sounds of the restless breaths,

 And the splinter shall stall for a moment of freedom and rest,

Raise thy torrid eye, look into the sky,

Watch the clouds afloat, row through still air, silent breeze;

 Watch the sky crack to reveal a bluer stillness,  

Oh shush shush..

Breeze flows on the tracks of life, life that thrives in arid, humid, torrential days and climaxes,

 Felt in the eyes, like a feathered touch on the skin, the unruffled flow of life in the strangest of times,

 Flutters of the tiny sparrow’s wings, sudden thrashing and then for a moment afloat in the lazy wind,

Reaching her nest after a day of grains, straws and droplets of water,

Rampaging from wall to wall, beneath rare shadows and scorching rays,

The quivering tips of darkest of green leaves swaying in surrender, slightest momentum released,

Oh shushed are you?

Does the pain now sail away with the breeze?

 Does the vacuum fill with sights of nature, the tiniest electrifying moments, the miraculous breadth of life?

The splinter slain to unconsciousness, Breathe in deep the peculiar scent of nature afresh,

Dear mind, Oh shush..ponder away from consciousness drugged in constant spiralling stale pain,

Stride into the invigoratingly alive life, Stroll away from thy own trepidations,

For the cures, the answers lie in the breeze, the clouds..

The flutter and the quiver, the tremor as nature breathes with thee in solace,

Carrying you to home indeed, Releasing you to breathless nomadic winds, just as you are..only standing there..shushed in your heart.

Categories: answers, emotions, expressions, freedom, HOPE, INNOCENCE, life, life, light, memories, mindset, poetry, poetry on life, poetry on love, strength | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hungry hearts..Tender wishes

Tenderly touch the singed skin, gathering dust at the edges of the deep well,

Deep well..burnt into the bones, skeletal heart, skeletal soul..

Tenderly fill those pores with your sweet breath.. loving friend..clasp not in roughened flesh.. peel not with lustful gaze..

Let magic of thy touch sound in that abyss echoing in my soul..

Engulf my heart in thy loving gaze, strand it in a hypnotic haze..


The heart exhales harshly, arrhythmic symphonies..

Tender..lighter..softer..Soothe the strings with its verbose vibrations, A tone shall fall.. a tone shall rise..

Thy breath, thy strings lull the breeze..Designs thee forges in the blowing laze..

Let the song linger in thy smile, sing to my hungry heart with an inflamed passion for love and life..

Tales of solitary love, only yours and mine,

My finger tips, your softened lips, slip the symphony to my soulful mind..


Might thee dance..close me in thy arms?

Waltz heedless to insufferable sores beneath our scalded feet,

Tuck my presence under your skin..

 At the doorstep of darkness every night.. Feel my heart stride alongside in your might

In the daylight on your side, fill me with every delight that rests in your eyes..

Might we stretch the rendezvous to last forever..

Let the myth-forever- lie in its croft, and our illusions slay it to deep slumber..


Cries of nasty fate..Sins seeking shelter in the script of its craft ways..

Forgive me should I shed heavy tears,

Forgive me should I dost thy soul any wrongs, scar any spots..

Lead me back to the solace that rests in our eyes… 

Take me to the land of wilderness, where reside neither haste of promises..

Nor burden of its unfulfilled lies….

Where neither asphalted paths fenced with wooden works are carved in loss and pain..

Nor whisper creatures words that speaketh of the same..


Hungry we are for the ripened fruits of the paths.. that hang in pure pearl like beauty..

Where underneath the generous trees, in their shade,we rest arm in arm, tasting the sultry sweetness in the misty air..

Let our anguish blend..let the sorrows seep to the seas..

Lets feed our hearts with treasure from the shores.. hidden between the twisty cores of shells..

Hungry hearts.. tender touch….caress’s our flesh..inhales our soul the melodies of our breath..

Come dear loving friend, lets ride on this road in the delusional fog to an unhinged end ..

Categories: life, love, poetry, souls | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

Names dispersed in me..and me..I write thee

Its a piece of writing on how I find my words in not only myself but also others.. how I am or rather maybe I dare say each on of us is an amalgam of all those minds,words, hearts and actions of the people we come across in our,lives.. how we learn from them and how they live in us and through us..

The last somehow resembled the poem in a way..:)

Names dispersed in me..and me..I write thee


Youngish the heart is.. newish the parchment is..

On the leaf of today’s will find names etched with twigs of the mind ..

The names of all the souls who had..were…are…have..shall disperse themselves into me..

Like the gale who gushes to drop the grains from lands afar on the leaf’s being..

Sown in the shadows they rise to find light………….


To the name who means, who flows like bright light forever in my life beyond its dusk..

To the waterfall of Nile who keeps my soul afloat..

To the one with whom my tiny feet danced in the fields..soaking in the first monsoon rain..

To the victorious friend in my dismembered times…
She sits with me on the voyage in the still water of my innocence..

To the silver one..who shines by my side standing in the concrete world of mundane plasticity..part of it yet apart from it..

To the one fiendish soul who lit my eyes to see the dark side of the moon..

To the storm who winded me in tangles and knots..who inflamed the fiery spirited madness..

And yet stifled it to hold me in thy soul..

To the wolf-man who I brush past again at the crossroads..I have much to say in your name..

Words I read are yours but dear.. the voice I find in them is mine.. Knowing you is like knowing myself..

Your eyes hold me captive for they speak more than I can fathom…

They tale tales of a pain..and suffering..will..and love..Oh  you un-injurable one!

At the sound of your name trickles down a sleek drop of pain..

I find in your presence and your absence.. in your words a raw truth..

A solace of darkness in the thunderous lightening of life’s hailing ways..

To the incarnation of strength that shines…a wandering beam of ray living desperately through the vulnerable sensations of love..

To the moon who shimmers in my tides.. rising with my waves..

You hold my smile sparkling in delight..

To the embodiments of godly hope.. imprinted on me are your glittering eyes that speaketh of wondrous and boundless love……


To the many more names whom I shall cast in my words..

And to many more who have left and shall leave foot prints that trail to hither tither.. 

To them I say..

Written into me are syllables of philosophical wisdom..

Carved into me are scars of archaeological truths..

Inflamed are the ashes of answers I search in the smoke..

To them I ask.. in riddles and fiddle with their answers..

Can love be so brave, yet cowardly.. can heart be so frail and gleam with zest..

Can man be so savage yet human.. can wise be so ignorant yet hold the ball of fates in the palms..

Can humans be so flaky.. yet bundle in a ball of misanthrope..

They must break..scatter into flakes as they hit their reflection in the widows of their eyes..

The realities we live..have you seen more than your own through the slightly parted curtains of your soul……


I forge tales of this world.. I rip into pieces what I know.. to rub into the leaf essence of what I find..

To all of you dispersed in me..the book I “shall write” is spelled in your names..

For in you I find my stories…for in you I search for me..

As I ruffle..and pierce through your words.. I find my questions encircling their answers..

I find you guiding my hand..leading me astray as the quill inks my mind and yours..

Newish scrolls yet buried in mud of centuries beneath civil and uncivil times..

On the parchments etched invisibly by other hands..

Let me unfurl and cascade in my tongue the storey of stories..

As the seeds seek light from the shadows of thy soul and my soul alike..

To the names dispersed in me..and me..”I write thee”

I shall write thee in the rolls of the newish parchment and youngish soul….


Categories: life | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Darkness and light.. their ways

Darkness and light.. their ways

The ways dark, blackness put you at ease,

You stand on that road, amidst the yellow,, greying forest..

And the wolfish clouds threaten, a low rumble.. the night is here before time..And it will now drench in past waters..

You swam across that river.. dried it is now, 

But as you stare into the black space.. the rain splash.. your skin sucks it in..Like marsh would suck you in..

Drops cling to the lashes,, and you are blinded by your past waters..

The darkness… the pain.. is so familiar.. and so soothing..

Though your breath is siphoned and locked in your mind….

You only have to stand still…and let the clouds resurrect the pain.. the stings of the vines..the thorns.. the bone shattering edges.. 

In the darkness… no one can see you.. and you can see nothing but the blackness that infuses into you.. invades your mind.. 

And the longer you stood there.. and the oftener you stalled in your stroll.. the deeper the watery drugs would sink into you.. and you would sink into though you are only afloat..

But to be at ease in the the real test..

Light is trickery.. Darkness is just darkness..and the knowing this serves your restless mind no peace..

You stand on the sun fed..shadow deprived road.. the shadows barely cross the hedges..

You are on the spin wheel and the road stretches ahead.. you stand on tiptoes.. walk on tiptoes..

But you see only as much as is reflected in your eyes..

You are heading into the unknown… beyond the horizon..

At each step autumn leaves.. decaying flowers.. lay abandoned on your path..

A new fragrance.. a flimsy rotten stench maybe.. a new sight…

anew sensations.. aspiration.. forbidden yet clawing thoughts… beautiful yet astray thoughts..

Words and anew renditions of your mind..stories spun rise to your throat..

And though your lips quiver.. and your throat is hoarse… you must tell those stories..

You must take that bus.. to that unknown place which was framed only in your mind..

The ease of light.. is that you see.. but you see not all…

The ease of darkness.. you reside in your mind’s darkened well…

You live in comfort of known agony,

Safe within the walls.. whose artistic nuisances and cracks your eyes know well.. they ain’t cracking new cracks..

You are at ease with pain.. the sting with each lash of a drop..

The ease of light.. you walk through the minds of time and universe..

You live not slight.. but you live to see much more of the yards that time spins..

Not swinging at that roman numerical.. not revising as you swing back and forth..

But swing into a parallel universe at every click.. embracing the heated love.. or the frosty foe.

Categories: darkness, life, light, poetry, strength | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Live Like a Child

Live Like a Child

I was born.. but I found not the meaning of birth..

If you died, A sudden embark to a land beyond.. You couldn’t fathom death either..

I lived an innocence.. Forgotten for long..Then I lived in it from the out..

The fight for a candy.. Moments pass… huddled together with silly tongues..

Candies.. toys.. A run across the fields heedless of the sundown.. or the scorcher sunshine…

I felt the hallucinations we impose on thy innocence… I felt the trysts we curse it with..

Now you are mashed, molded, drained, rushing towards a speck of life you see afar.. ..

You know your colors well, but see them as spots.. Unseeing them in nature’s joyous endowment..

You know the variances.. but you forgo.. then turn away from the nature of their wondrous existence..

But I lived in it from the out.. you must to.. Because it’s in you, waiting to clutch your finger with its tiny palm..

Flip the pages of your learnt lyrics of life to the moments you cherished as a child..

Fight not for lands.. Fight not for the end you know not of.. be not a foe to a brother in another color..

Be not in combat with kindness.. let it sway you to the hedge of your paths..

Let it lead you to the forest of fallen leaves.. dancing colors on the trees..

Fear not the paths yet to come.. fluster not about the paths you leave..

Run in the fields as you would.. for you live a life unknown..

To know you must live like nature..  Flair in colors that make you smile

Stagger not my child, autumn is here..

The crisp sound as you walk.. is the sound of a new flourishing time to come..

I reveled in living.. Skipping away from the ways to live..

I cradled the child.. nudged it awake..teaching it to breathe again.. as if a baby in deep slumber..

One fine day..soon you might serve nature your bequest.. A creation..

Then you might know birth.. the tears of joy would stir you eyes..and your heart..

Death of thy friend is sad for footsteps are heard no more..

It made me stop in my trial.. leaves breathed no more.. only the sun flickered in my  eyes..

Memories in the wrinkled minds.. soft fragrance blows in the breeze..ruffles your feathered mind..

Your friend..Your brother…you sister..the hands you held.. and the sunshine..

The autumn leaves and the colors that ravished the fields.. fill your heart with the music of past joy…

Your heart with sweet smiles.. the moments you lived like a child..

To the beyond them might pass… and you might pass..

But the winds shall remember the brush of your smile as you ran and you lived like a child.

Categories: CHILDREN, INNOCENCE, life, living, poetry on life, poetry on love | Tags: , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The Ancient Tree

There is a world in all our minds where we know the truths…
There is a surreal freedom in our heart.. incantations whispered in fervent tones..
You are the godliness you worship in the holy caves..

The mind is an ancient tree…
It has been pruned by evolution…
It has fostered many a harmonious civilizations..
It has befuddled the world kindling the firelight of imagination..

Souls cradled on the arches of this tree..
Have fondled it, sinking in it…drawing breath from its gospels,
Yet infusing in it incense from their ruminations..
Immersing the grandeur of the worlds in the helms of their own universes..

Let’s tread on those branches..
That rise through the vines to wrap the world in glorious sunshine..
Let epiphany lift all souls to plow the sky..
Lets trim away those branches sagging with hate and vane pride..
Let free birds wade through the spheres sounding cries of triumph,

Singing..together we shall rise to swing on the fields of amorphous love
Kissing the winds with our words of brazen beauty..lips full of sauntering smiles
Ambient music of hope..joyous innocence caressing the oceans..
The depths of our soulful eyes candidly in love with all kin..
All souls dancing on that ancient the symphony.. Together we shall rise.

Categories: emotions, freedom, HOPE, humanity, INNOCENCE, life, love, poetry, soul, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Create a free website or blog at The Adventure Journal Theme.


A great site

Girl Meets B-School

Non-traditional MBA doin' it for herself

Life on a Post-It®!

Life and its constant absurdities.

The 'n' Phases of her Tumor

Come, laugh with me about life on tumor

An Armchair Perfectionist

"And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good." - John Steinbeck

In love with a twilightstar

Bytes of thoughts and bits from life!


Wings on my slippers, restless fingers and a meandering soul

Ankit Mishra

Smile! Because You're Beautiful.. :)

The Good Cemetarian

I write at midnight

The website of Luther M. Siler, Author/Editor/Curmudgeon

Breathing Space

Life on the Sidewalk.....(No, I'm not lost.)

The question is not what you look at, but what you see - Thoreau

Art, Creativity, Photography, Travel, Writing

The Truth Warrior

Empowering and Inspiring people to be fully authentic, loving, happy, peaceful and joyful in their lives.


This site is all about ideas

The top 10 of Anything and Everything!!!

The top 10 of just about anything everything, from cakes to cats and dogs to caravans. Always a laugh, always worth seeing.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 827 other followers

%d bloggers like this: