emotions

Triumph over self.. 

The parchment and the blank space shall absorb all my postulated negativity..

And the smears of hope… Maybe it shall sing me a new song..anew answer..

With such an endeavoring wish tucked in my self.. Proceed I..

And smother I, it with my blunt words and purposeless thoughts..

 

Have I everything I need? And what is it I need and for what?

Have the people I love been cajoled yet? Cajoled by the time spent to stay on..

Why is acceptance a need, a need- so very binding?

Oh my… what if she gets what could be mine…

what if he takes away the spoon that could be mine..

To what end must it serve? to what end does need serve?

To need is to survive and to survive is to need, ain’t it?

Is what I own in me.. a shadow of what the other own?

Ought I to be better and different?

 

Is my ego to be grow on hedges and fence my crisscross ways?

Or must it slumber below..knead itself?

Has my own shadow darkened by heart?

Must my reflection in the eyes of the world be firmer…

Be colored in ways my self has not encapsulated…

Am I to be a master of my ego.. Or am I to be a servant?

To master it, ain’t it the same as to serve it?

Must I hide my faults.. must I smuggle the protruding black jewels into a dark corner..

Or must I smack it with laughter..

 

Why is beauty so well carved by symmetrical terms..

by eyes serving the proposed norms…

why is beauty such a need.. why is beauty so well sculpted in forms so well pruned.

Why must my beauty be compared and scripted and marked..

why must I serve a servitude to these very engraved thoughts…

To needs.. to pertinence with this humming civilization..

 

To be free from self.. free from want.. from desire…

Ohh how sumptuous..how freeing.. how embezzling is the thought of

“triumph over self”..

Ohhh..But how ensnaring to be turning in this cocoon of self..

spiraling..

but to reach no purposeful end.. desiring to be free from self.. and yet reaching nowhere..

 

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, blogging, change, emotions, expressions, feminism, HOPE, humanity, Hypocricy, life, mindset, Moralizing, poetry, poetry on life, questions, society, strength, struggle, the mind, time | 2 Comments

Crookedly Woven Thoughts

Image result for wars within THE MIND AND HEART

Where must the mind land? Where must it traverse to?

It must speak for itself to rise and draw on the versatile goodness of fate…

It wishes to grapple in the light just as it does in the dark..

Must it bow, must it be, must it take flight? And in direction ??

Now it speaks a mingled concoction of crookedly woven thoughts..

 

 

Ain’t there enough food on the streets to feed this epidemic of scarcity?

Ain’t there enough love in your heart to heal all the hurt?

Ain’t there enough dust settling on the blood to awaken the heartless with its stench?

 

 

There are ghastly streets, rotten drunkards, thirsty for more,

There is enough monsterity to hope for a shower of hailing empathy..

A desperate need to be rescued from depths of such self destruction..

 

 

Was man born only to rinse swords in tears..

Do those who suffer only remember of the ways to inflict?

The wars of despondency, a continuum of repulsive deeds ,

As human strides round and beneath..away from its naive beginning..

Representing the darkness mounted beneath the sheath of our existence..

 

 

For words to leave the bindings and reveal the intentions of the mind..

The heart must pace with the subtly settling, unknowingly induced pain..

Settling pain is unsettling, unnerving, ain’t it?

 

 

In wars, how must the heart clamber out to help itself?

 

Is life a war?  In ways it strives to derive the worth of time..

An urgency to grope for what is and isn’t yours,

What exists, just tumbling and rising on pillars of man’s uncertain designs..

A struggle to win hearts.. A struggle pacify the reflections in others..

A desire to be owned , A desire to own..

The wry ways of this human embodiment..

Darn the pain.. Darn the seemingly sodden truth..

 

 

Must I say something nice? I shall..

Heart must clot its wounds…

The man, must keep on keepin on..

And the light shall reach you as it stretches across to save us all..

Maybe there is love, hidden at the corners of your eye..

Maybe there is love, trembling to be undone on the ridge of your lids..

Maybe there is love in the hearts of the diseased.. maybe it will be find the hope..

And we shall smile in unison.. as plainly as the child does.. without reason..

In supple ways, maybe light will find all of us.

Categories: amibiguity, emotions, expressions, HOPE, INNOCENCE, life, light, living, lost, love, memories, mindset, poetry on life, poetry on love, questions, silence, souls, strength, struggle, the mind, time | 2 Comments

Etching On.

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Etching Patterns of thoughts on the papyrus of our mundane lives..

Designs we croon into the ear of our twin incarnation..

Curved stretches curbing across the mounts..the will, the wish..

Binding with the harsh breath..mellow at times.. juggling at times..

Strolling across to plot a breathless life..

 

Stumble over potholes dug by our own soles, Hasn’t thee rolled over, traced back, and strutted along then?

Yet the path of etched drawls back and forth scuttering on..

Inking on.. smug.. or giggly.. dreadful or greedy.. smiling through the blots of ink..

In hope in faith.. for trusting to be bound by fate.. we etch on..

 

A kind samaritan spinning the fate.. whispering incantations to string fate to wish..

A mildly fulfilled soul springs along.. sketching butterflies..

And yet then. droplets of pain blotch the ink just along the curve..

 

Words lack depth one might say.. as the heart fails to siphon strings of syllables

Wishing to only tell stories of memorable cons, fortitudes.. innocence and love..

How often has thy samaritan hidden in the cave of doubt?

How often does thee ponder of ways to escape the designs?

Trapped in thy own breath, memories and desires..?

 

Or did the benign fisherman row thee  across?

I think he did.. didn’t he?

Anew bridge..anew sketch..

Anew binding of faith and fate..as thee etches on..

 

P.S- Random thoughts, random sketch as I try to drown myself in something mundane.

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, art, blogging, courage, darkness, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, freedom, fun, HOPE, life, living, loss, love, love oneself, memories, poetry, poetry on life, poetry on love, soul, strength, struggle, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Wars we fight

Who dwells in their own head?

I do.. I do..

I live there with a man of dispiriting affections..

Broth of hatred.. froth of nonchalant love..

Rebelling against my rationale.. Again which is mine and which is his?

Life seems spent at war with love…

Moving on…

Which emotion is not to be felt?

I ain’t following a parchment of archaic laws…

Written and misspelled by all engrossed in a deep desperation of a kind..

Desire to be remembered… desire to be embraced.. Desire to be discovered..

Desire to be designed upon.. embarked into.. a journey from soul into a another..

Desire to appraised with condiments… tokens from one soul to another..

Who… which monk.. which teacher.. which bud..which man or women…

Can surpass the need to live.. need to be, to find which has not been found within..

And the need to feign control..

To him who I love.. who I have loved.. I can love..

I have found not the meaning of it..

I will always bless thee… find thee in my memories… search for thy love..

I hope.. this day.. the gulf of resentment has cleansed as much as it has left my heart..

Apologies I render.. and hope I shall find thee again.. in life.. in love.. in my heart..

.

And the man who fights with rationale.. in my head..shall always loose..

For rationale.. feigns control..

An incomplete drama of scribbled words.. this shall be..

For none can unfold the unrest of love and desires..

The conundrum of what to be.. who to be.. to succumb..

Or to succumb again.. just, to which…. ?

Categories: amibiguity, answers, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, life, love, poetry on life, poetry on love, silence, struggle, the mind | 5 Comments

Man needs man

There is no one to beat you..no one to defeat you ,except the thoughts of your self feeling bad.. Words of song by bob Dylan.

I have tried to imbibe these but have failed quite a few times…passed, but failed too.. I try to express that somehow.. how much ever I strive to be a lone wolf .. man needs man.. and feelings can not be fought.. only felt and past.. and in the end we do feel the same.. and that itself binds us together however alone we might feel..

Like in the jungle book:The strength of the pack is the wolf…and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

 

Bad for self.. about self.. feeling guilt.. remorse..

The red and black bitter serum..

how much can one fill in a jar..

the brim would be nudged..and then taken over..

mind control is a daring game..

ain’t for all..

but a subtle and slow manipulation of self…

Like gripping the wheel and steering the ship…

as gusts of wind blow and waves topple over one another.

but how do u know which mind to save yourself from and which mind to embrace..

 

Yet a master captain.. fosters a crew.. a family..

Bound by trust…

None can steer alone..

When living the days on thy own deck…

wading through waters that surround every eye raving the sea..

And resting at foreign ports..

One stands hand in hand.. shoulder to shoulder with a comrades by side..

 

I try to slash away the doubts.. I try to right my wrongs..

Yet I falter always..

But I shall hope that my comrades are by my side..

 

Desert a myriad of breathing sand..

Morsels sinking into one another..

Minuscule particles in friction.. yet in synchronized turbulence…

What I feel,you feel… as I am, you are..at different turn we take with winds…

Sand in solidarity would be of what essence? If not a bound to the desert?

Was the desert born as a whole? Does sand give meaning to the desert or desert to the sand?

sand derives its purpose from the desert.. from the dunes.. from the clusters..

So does man.. friend I say not in desperation but in my wishful way..

That man needs man.. And I need your shoulder and your warm friction and vibrant turbulence my friend..

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: darkness, emotions, expressions, life | Tags: , , , , , | 5 Comments

Random… Pride..self.. love?the fever.

The burden we call love could easily be hate..

The need to be needed.. the want to be wanted..

The fetal position of the grieving soul..

The penchant for ownership of the soul..

Too weary to follow.. too old to know where it is to be.. where it is to summon itself, to its home?

 

The haughty madam beneath the simpleton..Prays to avenge her pride..

Ain’t she a felon herself?

The girl who pounced in her father’s arms..prays to be set free..

The laughter that kindled her eyes.. the soft lines of nifty smile..

Muffled and ironed beneath the pains of frightful wars fought in her heart…

 

In the end when bones brittle crumple.. and flesh melts..

The hearts surge with combative pain..

Left are two souls lost.. facing  walls grounded on either sides..

The mirror reflecting the ugliness of it all..

In thy own eyes.. the glass shows black..

Pride is harrowing in the pits its own dungeons..

 

Ohh.. the  depths of ditches we dive into..

The sins we commit in the name of love..

Sinful of hateful acts towards self.. and then towards the other..

What is love but a roped..tangled path..

Curious pull.. one strolls and then the moments dribble away..

One is siphoned..tipsy into another Moonlit forest.. another home…

Aren’t you lost yet?

 

Where do you turn when the bridges you built are trampled upon..

Fallen beneath the sea of distance…

When human made altercations.. distractions..  steal the good.. gnarl it from your grasp..

Turn away from home.. to find that you have none..

And only the dungeons and pits.. fraught with felons of your heart..

Where shall you find your freedom now?

Who shall row you back to the haven you once knew?

How shall thee save thyself from distraught nature of thy heart?

Where shall thee find thy home.. thy solace and salvation?

 

 

 

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, crazy, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, loss, lost, love, memories, poetry, poetry on love | 3 Comments

Device to creation

Hi all.. bit of a long post..a few thoughts about living without infringement of artificial devices.. about hope:)

Device to creation

The glare of the machines, ain’t it piercing your eyes..?

Ain’t your brain mewling in puddles yet?

Or is it numb.. Static.. Too hefty for reception of candid natural frequencies..

The titter in your back pocket, The rings of banter…glib chatter.. 

Moments lost with the mind in the cloud.. watching the creations through a lens..glued unto itself 

Looking at expressions in loosely connected words of others… through the machines..just looking

Do you not want to express? Do you not want to leave yourself behind in the dust.. Become the morsels.. Feel the friction..

Galvanize with those expressions?

The cloud .. Ain’t it suckling on the juices of thy mind.. transmitting posed moments about the world seen not..

The square shaped device.. all the heart has to say and mind has to spawn ..spilled into it..hopes of another catching a whiff..

Aren’t you a device yet? Mind glazed, buttons rickety?

4 thick walls… a glass window… And knots in your heart..

None to drown your evenings with..

None to delve deeper with, wander around with on trails of thoughts..

Lonesome.. unlearnt and deaf to the sound of the life created as it was..

Music of the Life thee was created into.. melancholy and gay.. yet riveting and arousing..

There is none of that now.. The time has spindled back..

Roll back… daze into a time before it all..

Resting in a shack.. Skin to skin with the earth.. blinking at the day from the window of thy soul..

At the foot of the hills dressed in clouds.. Tresses grey.. White..in a whirlwind..

Clouds like typhoon around the sun.. sauntering around the mountains at its mundane pace..

Stroll miles along the slippery path…lush green hedges..

Drenched Muddied path.. Water seeps through pores from nowhere..

Rough boulders piled in heaps..purple weeds peaking from amidst…

Gusts of wind.. Tinge of salt in the airs..Climb atop… To the breathless expanse befriending the horizon..

The eyes meet salvation in such formidable yet unhinged nature.. 

The brazenly beautiful sight of the ocean.. 

Somber Waves Caressing the sand.. 

Feisty waters rising , crashing until called back to the ocean.. It’s true home..

Muffled laughter of lads savoring their freedom..mingled with lull of the sea.. 

Maidens gay with laughter.. Women soaking the sun… cajoling their dumplings..

Chattering of their lives.. some mellow.. some shelving the sorrows in their eyes..

Yet all in their hearts.. knowing the pain of the other.. glowing in the happiness of the other..

Ain’t thy heart alive.. Almost as though thy first breath is relived every passing minute..

Mind hungry.. And yet free from shackles.. Clinging to nothing..

Breathing just as thee is.. In soothing harmony with the ensembles of the Jarring beauty..

Filled with hope… Ain’t your heart smiling into you? Almost as though your long time mate.. Closest confidant..

Thy is Feasting on the simplicity… yet the unbridled truth of creation that engulfs thee..

If thee sauntered into the fields of imagination.. Or swung with the true ripples of nature..

The parchment waiting.. for the spill of secrets you unearth from the day..

Would be inked with the vibrant freedom that thy mind is engrossed in.

Lost and found you are , as you was.. One with the permeating nature of glorious creation.

 

Categories: art, change, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, freedom, HOPE, life, living, poetry on life | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Parasites in the heart.

Holding a grudge or feelings of animosity towards someone never ends well

Resentment.. grudge..

Parasites fowling the heart..

 

Down with fever.. a friend is lost in the bouts of anger.

Words sting.. yet apologies are never rendered..

 

Mind ain’t numb.. its an unforgiving wreck.. growling of nonsensical scenarios..

Its motto,  I never understood.. it tames the buried demons..

 

Who is to blame for the tears that strain the mind..  the eyes that trust none..?

The will-less childish heart.. an ego that barges open wounds..?

Or the man..the friend who pledged to be by thy side.. but falters now and then..?

 

Human heart and its follies..

A self image that casts a shadow of narcissistic caveats on thy disposition..

When must the “I” disappear? when must it save thy soul?

 

Can it suffer in silence as the parasite nudges and slithers hissing at the door..

Can it dissolve its misogynistic ruckus.. oblige the good monk  who seeks solace..

 

It would do either..but which? who shall choose? The “I”, the mind, the heart?

Aren’t the three the same.. or are they?

Categories: emotions, expressions, life, poetry, questions, the mind | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Simple Friendship

Its called friendship you know..

The light in my eyes.. at a simple smile in yours..

The spark when hopes shines through the tunnel..

The Rebellious laugh when the fortitude gives away..

Our bizarre plans blow against the wind..

And we rise victorious surfacing at the shortest stairwells clambered..

Its the smile and laugh my heart craves..

Its the pain my soul wills to diminish..

Thy tender heart.. understands my pain.. and mine yours..

Its simple touch of human likeness..

 

Its called friendship you know..

The pain inflicted on you..reflects in my eyes..

As does in yours..

The tremor in your voice.. finds a helpless flutter in my heart..

But when your words sting.. to where shall I turn..

For it is your presence that soothes my pain..

Yet.. I know.. you shall be there when I turn back..

For a sincerest person like you..is hard to find..

 

Forgive my anomalies dear..

Harbor no ill of me.. You find place in my pain..

But more so in .. more so in carefree laughter..

Pondering.. I find your heart pure..

And mine wishing only the place of a life long friend  in pain and gay remembrance..

And your life to ride to your dearest hopes and dreams.

For Its simple friendship.. you know.

 

Dedicated to a dear friend… its a few simple words.. I couldn’t find ways to disguise my ways.

 

 

Categories: courage, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, friends, HOPE, life, living, love, memories, poetry, poetry on life, strength, struggle, the mind, time, youngsters | Tags: , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Do you search for those words as I do..

Why do you write so? What inspires you to do so?  

Which portions of your life befriend you to do so?

What makes you pick that pen up and scrawl those words?

Matters that pour nuisances of you heart and more so of your mind on the parchment.. why do you write?

I write out of sheer boredom engulfing my shelf life here.. Or do I?

The agony of a mind fanning its own thoughts..

I write to forge a bond with myself..

I write to loosen the knot in my bare hands..

The knot between bare hands? Yes.. the fidgety fingers fumbling..

Pondering what has become of the self I knew yesterday?

I write wondering shall I ever be that prolific dispeller of words… who writes with ignatious ..an unabashed flair…

From whose beacon of riveting knowledge shall I glean that uninhibited figurative tongue?

Fuse words of boisterous beauty.. Purging impudent purity … honest in in its picturesque candor..

A language of man… nature .. laden with no pompous substance but only the essence of poetry..

Poetry that peels the layers, draws the vulnerability in the eyes of man..

Shall I ever touch the hearts and minds lighter in joy.. foster the soft naive rush of unhinged emotions..

Fill their smiles with a knowing that these clumsy words indeed spell the unknown clusters in there hearts..

Shall I ever revive the light in the eyes of those men.. Lasses and humble beings in pain..

They who know not how to touch their own wounds.. barren for words..

Why does thee perspire to rise with the sun and ride to the time..

What in thy soul has life of its own? And what shines the light in the darkest corners..

Kneads into shape your empire of dust time and again.. kindles the fire wood in cottage..

Like the shepherd thee rises with dawn.. Hoping to find what thee looks for.. 

Stare at the mountains.. clamber the hills.. search for the  lion with the humbling mane.. horrific yet dangerously prideful and beautiful..

Search for the maiden who calls thy name.. search for yourself in the galore of beings one sees..

Oh..Why do you write so? Why do you perspire so?

What it is that leave’s your touch as the sun breaks sleep..

What is it that saunters in your eyes in the day.. haunts your heart by dusk..

Do you search for the man.. as I do.. 

Weave words like needles were carving scriptures from your mind onto this plain parchment for epiphany..for sake of epiphany

Do you search for those words as I do.. words that bind you to you..

 

Categories: answers, DREAMS, emotions, expressions, HOPE, humanity, life, poetry, poetry on life, questions, strength, struggle, the mind | Tags: , , , , , , | 5 Comments

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