Posted in life

Questioning Trust

Faith is beyond the reach of this troublesome mind, a mind that is divided in shapes of evil and love…

I say love because love can not be evil.. can it?

Our creators are our effigies of goodness, our epicenter of faith..

And yet they are in the essence only human… and yet creators.. but only human.. so is there no god?

No supreme being that spins the wheel of time…?

Whoever preached a notion as such.. that trust was to be known and felt,

Faith was to simply exist..

The preacher neglected, pressed on without speaking of the existence of the mind…

The mind that seeks the future, questions the past..

Hunts the present… Breaks every molecule into a subjective form..

Drawing meaning out of every twist of faithful fate…

Brewing a story of every tone of every murmur beneath the lines that were uttered in callously passing moments..

Or did the being, the preacher know… but was only donning the role of god? an impostor or real? I know not…. for I know neither trust nor faith

I wonder if we are to be faithful,then to whom are we to ask questions? Or are we to not question life?

To what is faith endowed? To where does faith lead, to what end does faith seek? An ambition…?

If I don’t question, I shall never know..

But Oh, it is such a hurtful spin of guts in the heart…

To not know and to not trust.. to spin stories from instincts and fearful brush of loss..

Trust a fellow being, trust the moment, the trust the foot prints in your path, trust the hand that rests on your forehead..

Trust thy own self?And trust another like thy own self?

Both being knots that either steady your heart, or burn a ditch in it..

Ohhh.. the sufferance, if I do and the drought of solace in the mind if I don’t;

Ain’t it grueling ?  A harsh form of blistering trust that there is…

Which intuition lies, and which values and speaks for our well being?

If we are to trust every word, every notion, If we are to trust our every thought..

Will every move for the trust, turn and walk backwards to embrace you..

All golden flowers and warm light draw a beautiful frozen frame of what life could be..

And yet none can not stop my mind from questioning trust and faith..

A wishful palm rises up… waving at that frame.. at the picture in the mind of this unreal color of rain…

A wishful palm rises to calm the questions.. only for a minuscule moment..hope simmers, soothes and walks softly in the rain.

Advertisements
Posted in amibiguity, answers, art, courage, DREAMS, Elections, emotions, expressions, freedom, HOPE, humanity, life, mindset, past, questions, souls, strength

Which Animal is your mind?

The mind is an animal fueled by the instincts and basic nature of me. So I control the mind, the mind controls my run through lap of life. I and my meanings are again debatable. But I and my are product of the steps since we could sense life around us. Then the mind is a product of this life. If it were an animal, a particular animal, I wonder which it would be. The horse, the sheep , the lion, the caterpillar? Hunger for an achievement, for a proof of our own existence drives each one of us in different manners, in different directions. And each day the mind feeds on a different taste of life. I wonder what’s in store for it, I wonder what scent intoxicates it and calls on it’s hunger for the life to come.

Posted in life

It ain’t that simple

It was suppose to be simple

Dedication , care, patience…

Honesty, empathy, compassion…

I walk in ur shoes .. u walk in mine..

And then we walk together..

There is a passion brewing..

And we flow with our depths…

We sip our morning freshness…

The cup of coffee caressing our smiles and stirring our conversations..

But then it never was simple ,was it…?

Game of words..

Game of feelings not to be spoken..

Questions not be sprung…

Power saddling the bond…

Truth has run wayward..

And love is not the master of the ride anymore..

It’s crept to hedges and hides from power..

Hides in the game where just one falls and the other walks on..

It ain’t that simple , is it?

Posted in amibiguity, blogging, change, cynicism, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, life, living, loss, love, love oneself, poetry, poetry on life, society, struggle, the mind, time

Cynical and Baked in Questions

It gets difficult..more and more difficult as you proceed with time and the picture of life presents itself in its many attires. Mind you I didn’t say progress with time or walk with time, just proceed with time. Word choice and placements have a significance of their own.

At some point you feel that there are things you have lived through and are living  through and they appear to be the same kind of things.  Same mistakes, same kind of degenerations. A spinning of deja vu.  At some point you question, that maybe you are just being a wise fool, especially with the way you ask questions, the same wise ones over and over again.All you wish is for a day that sprung the meaning of life itself to you. But the appearance of and questions about incidents, parables, predicaments and blessings keep resounding against closed door of your clogged shell of very gooey ego. Self stranded emotions and brittle feelings keeping piling up. It makes one feel caught and pinned onto a point, when all swings by and the wind blows but you are dangling from the hard rusty iron needle of time. Going in circles along the same loop, you don’t even have the pleasure of rolling along.

You wonder how you ended up here and what do you even have to  show for your self? And why do you even want to show something for your self? Why are you lagging so far behind in your walk to being a monk? Is there a sheet of  paper that defines you or is there a purpose which encompasses and protects your ego manifesting an obscure image, but an image nonetheless to the eyes of the world. Are you what you see in the reflection of this world and also are you what you speak and what you think you need and want? Or are just a Mr. Nobody in the shoes of very malleable live sculptor of you. No wonder, you always want to reinvent your self as they call it-a new makeover ,every now and then, it gets you excited, your very  malleable ego is at least.

You wonder if you really have gathered friends and if their loyalty walks in a two way street. Where does your loyalty lie, how far does your loyalty go? Does the man really speak what he means? Or does he even know what he means? Is the ego ever satisfied, is pleasing plug ever diffused, Are the eyes ever alive with a smile that comes without a question, without a memory of having lost a battle in other moments.I wonder if a blind, deaf and dumb lady without an inch of memory would smile? If she smiled, what would she smile about? and would her eyes smile, Would her eyes feed the world the sense of an emotion and expression even if it did not count in her blessings.

The people we meet leave deep and dangerous stride of prints , and deep heaps of brown,muddied and soggy dusted down remains of time. Always a slippery slope or notorious ditch within self. Do you ever wonder if what you feel is reflected in the heart of another, will you ever know the heart of another, will you ever know the truth? Or is knowing the truth an oxymoron because one can never know anything and the truth is a flirtatious breeze of momentary epiphany.

If man was one part of nature, and what man makes is another apart of nature, the two combine and use and delve into each other to thrive and build a culture and frame of living. Once you step out of the frame, you have just fallen out  of bed and are now wide awake. Wide awake and piling a basket of questions. The culture has been breeding and knitted into a very fine sheath with a hemmed membrane. All the people you know are swinging in the cradle of the sheath wrapped up in it but you, you are suddenly sitting on the bare ground.

Is it possible to feel happiness even when you know there is a life built by others and you have to be the mice spinning in the running wheel.  Do I think I am better than others? Well, then I am just as narcissistic and an ego maniac as the next person. But I do fall out of the bed of sheath, naked, cynical and baked in questions.

 

 

Posted in life

To be or not to be

To be quiet is a sin of the heart..

To be loud is sin of the mind..

To speak is to offend the diffidence of honor

To numb the tongue is the offence of human sensibility

To fight friends of the soul..

One must find a courage of another kind..

For the closest cast the darkest shadows…

To fight enemies of the mind..

One could roar or mumble and grind the feet and harrow with the wheels of thought..

For enemies stray far ,as the soul floats in soft glow of sheltered love…

To stand steadfast battling howling winds for another ….

Is to answer the wolf mate’s howling whimper, with a growl of hope and fight…

But  To Stand in the feeding emptiness and resounding darkness for self…

Is to roar for self, drowning the sounds of a whimpering wolf..

To question your conscience, and subdue your breath,

Is to bite ones own ego..

To  measure the reality seen against the reality felt..

Is to weigh the fog against the descending cold..

Who is your friend, the seen or the felt?

Who is fighting for you? your pack or your ego?

To be the gallant wolf or to be the self appeasing ego?

To be the fight or not to be but wait for the scales to balance..

Posted in life

May Friendship watch over us

Too many words ruin the moment

Too much is said when there is better known..

Words are thrown in the air

And the heart bleeds,

Shattered with the strike of tongue

I wonder if love knows it’s own power..

I wonder if it knows to blossom in the wilderness of meaningless words…

I know not…

And yet I shall say..my love forges an apology for thy heart…

When ur heart smiles… a shine encompasses our life..

I wonder if friendship knows the need of the hour..

I wonder if it knows the urgent need to stop time..

The ways to grasp and tie the knot between between the two souls and minds..

Friendship, your humble presence is wished for to watch over the two wondrous souls…

Souls craving to fly free in directions separate…

And yet rejuvenate in the remembrance…

Weathering the darkest times… and dreadful paths.. in thy Warmest words and blissful company..

And road shall always be blessed with you..

May harsh lashes of horrid words on the soul be wiped away with the splash of a hopeful times…

An honest apology ..

A pouring of no words but a warm promise to protect thy heart…

A wish to never part and yet see the other flourish and fly to lands awaiting thee…

My soulful apology dear friend…

May time never steal thy memories of me…

In years may you find love of the kind that dreams can only spell..

May your eyes reflect the twinkle of smile in your soul…

May friendship watch over us…. are the only words my heart would like to wish for..

Posted in life

Home

Far away from the scent of hindrances that float in the air

Far away from the fame that draws your breath..

Far away from the written destiny that becomes your mind..

Far away from spaces that leave you abruptly volatile…

Folds your mind into cozy corner meant for dreams and treats of life..

A corner that you ought light as often as the day.. scolds that hopeful heart..

It seems a piece, a heartbeat was left behind in a hurry ,

Far away from your dwellings these days..

An old friend misses a piece of you , a piece you pinned into the ground on your way away from home…

The Home in you misses you.. may you ride back to that place afar..

Might you find your love in that place of bliss clad in your memoirs of sweetest parables ..

Love that serenades you from within.. with each passing day frees your smile from the crowded rituals..

A hut with a roof of hay and earthy freshness beneath your skin….

A solace lives in that place…

To find a phosphorus blend of dreamy silliness and a trust of all unknown..

Aaah..those selfless lives thee lived in thy own lifetime..

A hopeless romantic nuance ploughs into thy rickety heart..

For all the dried leaves cast of sheath of hope in the lightened corner..

Romance of love.. it lies beyond that bridge to your home..

A foolish desire to find the softest eyes in crowd.. whose could it be? But yours..

Your eyes watching you crave more.. yet having all in beneath your feet..

A pristine calmness of home in your heart..

Describing to you what was amiss but could never be found..

Found only afar in thy own heart.. beyond the bridge in the earthy freshness..

Wistfully awaits thy home..

A hut with a roof of hay and earthy freshness beneath thy skin….

Posted in life

The dissidence of Empathy

Sometimes hatred frames the heart..

Sometime love wanes, in its own shadow of desires..

A symphony ruptured, converging into bitter misogynistic foghorn…

Sometimes it blisters the walls, burning the soul with every breath…

Sometimes, resentment drowns the freedom of goodness,

Holding the heart in a wretched frozen state,

Bleeding monotony, bleeding trust..

The gauze of faith shredded…

And yet when loss of love, death ruptures the moment..

When another unknown face, crumbles, braving the drought..

Purpose of life dissidents the rumbling hatefulness crouching within…

Smiling earnestly ain’t that simple a fortitude..

The dissidence of empathy

As it mauls the growing self-pity,

Clambering over the fissures of darkness,

Dissolving the ensnaring smug exterior of thy core…

A rebelliousness against all that drags souls to the blasphemous dark caves..

In such times empathy strides forth, paving a path for faith in thy self..

A radicle sprouting hope in thy heart,

A touch embracing thy skin in cocoon of humbling love..

Swift breeze foraging a pitter patter of friendship…

To heal thy heart.. soften the edges…

Empathy and trust humming a tone of spring in thy smile..

And bestowing a swing in your soul as in thy step..

Posted in art, emotions, expressions, freedom, HOPE, life, light, love oneself, poetry on life, the mind

Quick fix or good fix?

Quick fix or good fix?
Which one would you recommend for a soul in a fix?

Hates comes easy to the heart..
So does vengeance…it’s partner in crime..
Then love and empathy , they seem so down trodden ,Hanging on the brim of that hollow self?
Men and women tend to forgo the command of their breath..in search for all that is gold and silver,
The simplest bonds of innocence seemed to be just foliage, a bothersome heap in the corner of their bitter home to self..

Feeling tired yet of the much bitterness about nothing…? All of this for just a quick fix..

Ohhh o… so much for a good fix when the ranting never ceases…
But the pen speaks..steers its drawn prose.. across the puzzle…and it all fits..
Effuse a pinch of happiness that knows no reason..
Because thee fits so well in thee…

Simple and true is the heart…
It shall feel all.. the bitter, the numb, lustful anger…
And the sweet and the resonating pulses with self..
In solitude it knows pain.. but in solitude it knows hope..

Solace it finds in trust on self.. and on the pen that forges a story for its substantial self..
Sometimes fictitious..- just a wish and at times a wish so true – like the sound of an awakened child smearing a smile in thy eyes..

Sip the tea…
drain the boisterous and pitiful, nonsensical and glib hunter of all that is grouchy..

The tea simpers a peace…
For the humble heart has its fix… it fits and rests well in its cell..a Phoenix loving and reviving through every whiff of life..
It’s well looked after by thy own breath.

Posted in darkness, emotions, expressions, HOPE, life, poetry on life, poetry on love

Strange Uncertainty

There are times when one feels to present to be a constant companion..

The familiar reality one lives in.. one shall live on in the same greys and greens…

As though there is nowhere else this framed moment can trample into..

The people.. most of all the friends and foes shall last..

But may I tell u… that even in the most heartening moments..there lurks a fear…

A fear that all there is will be gone.. a newness might forge way..

The beautiful bonds might just never be…

The threads intertwined in so unruly a manner..

It might just run aloof to another pinch of soul..

I might never matter to these beings in moments of reality however afar from now..

Meek a luck of fate.. one might come along with another in a journey far along..

Yet.. the fear engulfs me… for I so entrust those in my realm with powers as such to bewitch my heart…

The fear I never will be in their line of framed moments as though I never was…

Shall I loose you my friends…? Shall you be in lands afar in flesh and mind…

As we wade in the direction of that where we can grab something more…

Is the now never enough for thy heart and souls..

Are you not bound by my love to these moments as I am..

For I feel and fear far too deeply.. that specks of moments will cease to exist..

As we dig and grapple and fly to to the far west.. in search of smiles more beautiful..

Gold more enamored.. ambience more wholesome a feast …

Time and fortitudes take so much away from us..

When the waves wither away the silver and bronze and gold is squandered away in the tides…

In flesh when are left only your thoughts and you..

Will you find me in flesh???

Will I be by your side?? Will our hands will intertwined..?

Tides have a pattern.. Waves resonate in their own manner

And all that is in life along the shore or in the ocean seem to be fiddled with…

Like an incomplete pattern.. that never resonates..

Destiny can beaten.. only if thy wills to dream it..

Can thee beat this conundrum and does thee will to?

Strange uncertainty is a dreadful destiny.. a world might exist where I cease to in urs.. and cease to in all..