Monthly Archives: November 2014

Love attains Love

Does love change?

Does it change, as one gets to know another?

Does it die, metamorphosize into a darker twisted need?

Or does it just hide behind, become comfortable in the shadows of doubt, impaired by limitations,

Flagged by certain follies engraved in the mind as so, justifications to rationalise love,

 Defining a notion curbs it, iron bars rise around the sensation, caging it, a morbid situation,

Love can’t attain love,

 The ride through pathless woods, the hunger for a invigorating adventure to nowhere,

Fervour dims as definitions, laws and rules carve paths clogging love at the gates of its own haven,

But is love pure, what is pure?

Is love innocent, what is innocent in the mind of a primal animal?

In a hunt for a void that fills another void, does love dip below the horizon?

Is it all only an illusion? The pain, the prickle, the thorns that prick the rosy flushed flesh from within,

Screaming for attention, for a touch caressing the starved being,

As the dark twin within each surfaces, does love leave the light,

Or does it keep burning, fostering on the lips, in the eyes, in the warmth of flesh?

 

As riders wander away from each other, does the love stagnate, burn out,  the pyre go cold?

Or does it burn lightly, smoke rising and the light of love filling a den,

It flickers, the shadows on the walls change, it changes but never does it wither away into mere nothing,

Does love borrow a mask that makes it unrecognisable , lost in the riff raff of many a masked users of this soul,  

Masks lend to us, then self imposed by us, the caricatures we sketch of our hypocritical ideologies,

I peek through my mask,

Did I love you then? Do I love you now?

Will you take off your mask, understanding and seeing my weakness that pushes me to forge mine,

Unlearn the meanings of purity, innocence and love too,

Letting love attain love,

And just let me caress you with my sensations for a few moments, unmarked by clicks of a clock, stretched in time?

 

 

 

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Random

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Some Words

Some words soothe your seething wounds,

Some words rupture the clinched flesh of a healing scar,

Some words hold your heart in a rapture of serenity,

Almost as though the stillness might pervade forever,

Some words make the heart shrink,

 Knees touch the forehead as arms cross over,

The head bends hoping to find a cave to hide in the soul

 Clinging to the sound of bitter sorrow,

Some words written in parchment by the smiles of strangers,

You can read them almost like you can taste the drink you might share with them,

Some words erupt from the eyes, as though frosted breath misting the air,

They emerge from the shadowy corners,

Waiting and wishing for some one to lend them a melody,

Pen them a song that synch with the jingles and chimes,

Whines and sultry whispers of a soul shy yet wishful of being heard,

Some words echo in the silence of many a men,

Awaiting to be rendered a voice of hope,

Some words float in the lonely gaze of the child,

He bends over the fence by the river, by the fields,

Staring with eyes wide gloomed with confusion, questioning the ways of the world,

They drift through the winds and tell you a story that sinks into the soul,

Some words, are heard floating,

Twirling on the leaves that brushed past them,

The quivering smile of a maiden,

The fluttering shifty eyes of a wishful lover,

Some words cast a sheath of warm love,

Like a dove bringing a letter from a long lost friend, a mate

Some words the shepherd murmurs as he lies stretched on the grass, watching his sheep graze,

 Yet speaking of his secrets to the trees and mountains where is home and heart reside,

Some words from the wise eyes of the wrinkled old lady,

She sits on the bench under the trees at sunrise,

On many a day till the dusk sets, seeing the world drift past her each moment,

 Moaning and smiling, reminiscing as she opens doors to her many memories,

Some words shared with the mighty sky,

The clouds, as the girl stands in the rain,

 Drops splashing down her sweet face,

Blending with her tears, carrying her melancholy to the seas,

Some Words one can hear like the kiss of the wind that blows past on a winter morning,

Words of your own soul

The world has much to say, the sound of nature has a song for the ears that find way to the heart,

A song of all the love that rises, wanting to be captured and bred in a man’s soul,

And vanishes with the dried leaves buried under the earth,

And yet is born again from the tress that give us shade,

These, some words are sketched, given life in the lullabies,

 Living and dancing off the lines spoken by the poet in the man’s soul.

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To Dad

To that man who gave me a breath of life and chance at greatness, a name to uphold myself to,

Gifted me a torch of hope so that I could crawl, walk, stumble, and run,

To the man who showed me the mirror, spoke words that stung but woke me from my reverie,

The man who lit a fire in my heart, every time I doused it with my petty pity towards my very docile pathetic self,

A man who built an empire for family, friends such that they could rise and rule their own kingdoms,

A man who hath not a fear, nor sacrilegious wish or profane thought for another being,

A man who never doth a wrong that crumbled another’s dream, wrecked another’s castle,

A man who taught me that world is beautiful, ugly, its what you see, and what you make that makes the world what it is,

A man who taught me to be a teacher, to see a teacher in every morsel of life,

To see light in every dark corner of life,

To see and admire the candle which burnt in each one’s heart and not the shadow the candle cast,

To learn from each moment spend with myself or with another,

To understand justice, liberty, rights and freedom ,

Each is a human first, respect that human essence, each one of us is an equal,

No matter what we do and how we think, we have our own stories,

Live those stories as you listen to them so that you understand the man as a human first,

And pain, soothe it with words of kindness and strength not sympathy for the being,

And my own pain, Compelling me invisibly to curb it and use it to find my strength and crippling my weakness,

When my senses and power seemed to be slip from my grip, a blanket of helplessness settling over,

Your face that shines with courage, love, hope and will, your words that reflect your belief propelled me from my well against the gravity of circumstances,

I sinew myself, find that ferocious angel in myself, an angel eager to rise up and cast a spell of her own,

Its all in your mind he said, Do so well that no one can ignore you,

Your dreams and ambitions make you, never loose them, hold them to heart like you would hold your child,

Never forget who you are, that is a free strong soul, a human capable of infinite,

The man who fuelled my ambitions and dreams with words of challenge,

With words that are engraved in my mind and I shall remember forever till my time comes to an end,

Testing my mettle and willing me to rise and prove to myself and those who thought me incapable,

A man who lives a life so true, so magnanimous, yet for others,

Can I ever be anything like that man, No, even if I lived as long as he will, I couldn’t

I could only learn, be bedazzled, inspired and be fortunate to be challenged,

To my dad, there is much more to say, words seem to defy my command as I ask them to express my love, my gratitude, my sense of deep and immense honour to be born into your arms on your doorstep.

I love you dad.

P.S-A few words left unsaid

Categories: life | 6 Comments

Masters Of Free Thought

Do you see through mist?
Through your lust?
What do you see? The image or the reality?
Huh,you who have your beliefs and your hypocritical king as god?
What can you see from the castles built on the marsh,
A piece of land balanced and rooted in the burnt bodies of animals who dare speak innocent truth?

Is your conscience a mind of lead protected by bars of heated iron,
It better, lest it shatters when staring into the eye of the honest and primal nature of animal,
Who doth speak the truest words banishing thy vengeful pride with not a care,

You strive to rise above them, lone, standing, bearing the star, the crown on your head,
Walking as the dogmatic ruler in Jewelled shoes of living skin, stomping on the minds, thoughts and tongues,
Crushing their voices, almost slicing their throats,
Lusting after the bodies, after the power to sway and use the limbs till they were battered
And the hammer their minds till they succumbed to slavery of yours and bartered their free souls, minds for mindlessness,

You own them, might you bask in your glory,
But fear you must from the instinct of a free soul,
Blood drains from your sinfully alive veins as you realize from amongst those you stomp,
Will rise your nemesis and dampen your festive bloodshed of minds with a zeal of hope and honesty,

Adamantly refusing to sell his soul, for his body, he hath not a care,
You who feeds on fear and surrendered powerlessness in the eyes others, will exhale smoke as your soul burns in hell,
As your feet now drag, blistered ,naked, on the ground , where now reside true beings, children of nature and masters of free thought.

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A Drop of Life through the Gates of Illusion

One is born, steps in, sliding through the gates,
The gates where one illusion begins and the other ends,
Does one carry a part of self from the beyond,
Or does a droplet manifest,appear out of nowhere,
A drop untouched by the spheres,
By the winds,morsels of dust reigned by the time and space above,
Untainted by which is the past,the many revolutions of the mighty hand of the clock,

A pure droplet, transparent, minuscule, bound by two polarities,
One essence of the righteous good and the other the freezing presence of stubborn evil,
Maybe both are one? Only to sprout and branch and carve disjoint parted paths in times to come,
As born is this angel, sheer breath of life devoid of any notion of life,pure or otherwise?

As the bell sounds and resounds, the capsule expands engulfing a bit more of the state around within itself,
Beginning to spin and ride with the illusion of each moment,
The membrane that was crystal clear,shinning with what we sinners call innocence,
It now seems muddied,gathering ash,smoke as it drifts,

But then aren’t the colors we see the imprint of pigmented light from our own eyes,
Trapped we are by our own vision within the boundaries of our own sight,
Our eye which wants to define infinity only reduces its vast array to only finite,
Ignorant we harrow through the shreds of memory and present time to narrow down to the truth
How can truth be narrow? The true splashes and streaks of colors shall remain undefined,
As beauty of truth is in that it remains amorphous,

The bubble that was drifting, searching for the unknown, is it truly in motion,
Or is it static where as the moments dupe us, twisting and shifting into the next of its many illusions,
Testing us as we fight within our space, one polarity with another,
If that ain’t enough,pulled and pushed,scathingly let go after being tossed and held in the air, the fortitude one must rise with!

Emancipated, in search of water,of itself,of its mates,
To quench its thirst, to flow in collusion and serenity,
Inhaling the aroma of the blossoming spring,
While rafting along the silent stream that flows amidst the magnificent season of life,

Alas,the serendipity ends as the scorching sun captures the droplets, and they drift apart again,
Now swallowing the thirst, the sorrow of loss, spurring on with the impending moments,
Living in memories, sharing the nostalgia with mates of the moment,
Those who survived the pain impinged by the brunt of the heated winds and blisters from the ruthless sun,
Struggling to understand and find both,
The spot where it had left the solid ground and the place it was and is heading to,
Hoping for hope, to remain dipped in life and its illusions,
Desiring to remain drenched,
Alas it finds its destination, a cause of joy?
It finds itself, it is wholesome once more,
When it faces death, drying up, as it leaves one illusion and stands on the verge of entering another.

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Love Or Want

Love Or Want

I look into those eyes; eyes speak the tongue of the soul,

But as I touch your soul, the whispers I hear, are they mine or yours?

I ponder over the depth I see, but the depth I see, is it a trick of my soul’s refracted wishes,

The pain, the questions, the fervor that kneads at the sound of your voice,

The impulse to see beyond what you show,

I wonder if you see my eyes in yours,

Words unformed moist my lips, but alas dusk and dawn set to soon, lips and words both remain unfelt,

 

A trial of thoughts traces a wave of questions that rise from the ocean of my emotions,

To love is to want to see, or to be seen? Which does the eye reel onto first?

Is love fogged by need, by a craving to be loved?

To give and not want, can love for another exist in solitude?

Unrestricted by barricades of a need to show self capable of love and deserving of its caress,

Is one in love with the sensation, the palpitations as the soul inhales the drug?

 Caught entranced in the spiral, the fusion of pain, burning desire to find hope, to live and live through another?

Is it want that redresses, camouflages the selfish soul,

Or does love really draw out the air, and become source and cause of life?

I came across this play, a beautiful one..:) Recalling Love:- Man and Woman, The thoughts depicted seemed to resonate with many of mine, I agreed with almost all that was said and felt, but I guess I don’t know if what a man feels(as portrayed by the lines spoken)  is felt only by a man, the fear, the urge to escape, and whether the need to search, to hope, to wound yourself around the notion of love is strong only for a woman. Woman finds man within herself and man finds woman within himself, as they journey towards discovering themselves.

The poem above is amalgam of my thoughts on various occasions.

Categories: life | 2 Comments

Mind and heart- the shell

There is a bottle of emotions spilling its contents into the mind’s pocket

A conflict of desire, reality, fear of the Pandora’s Box, a box that holds the secrets of unruly soul

The mind and heart are they one? Do they walk hand in hand, each mirroring the other’s reflection?

Each a shadow of the other? One lights the dark, one darkens the light,

 

One thinks, the other feels, one feeding the other words in a language known yet unknown to the being,

A restless wish to shred the pigmented layers of dictating laws of the world outside,

A light shines through the smoke, but the eye stands on its tip toe to catch sight of it,

The light, does it lead to darkness, a world unseen, drifting into land of faithful demons,

 

Demons their grip, one always feels the comforting warmth,

At times the chills and shrieks, they keep you awake, alive,

Through the struggle you listen to your breath realizing you need your demons,

You need them to watch out for you, you need darkness to think and feel,

 

In the darkness the heart meets the mind, crowding the room in your soul,

Love, loss, sky high desires, reckless zeal to find oneself,

All their quotations, wise words are scripted in the dark, the words are light that shine even as life dies,

Resurrecting to find the lone soul shell of purpose, existence, of cause and reason of life and death

 

P.S-could not find a fitting image for this  

Categories: life | 4 Comments

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