time

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

Musings on time

Image result for time

A grey sheath of stagnant silence…

Soluble darkness..

Dissolution into the surreal flow of night..

Punctured..embellished by the notion of time..

 

Rioting mind muses on..

Only the tick-tock of a mundane clock..

Piercing, distracting.. the still flow..

Ripples of time.. penetrating the mum..

The curve of a ripple postulates a moment..

The tick enunciating the bend..a crisp of time..

 

As life strolls in the direction unknown..

And shreds life into the passage past..

Like the leaves of deciduous tree..

Speaks through the crumpling murmurs of it..with it..it the mind..

The mind.. voices pivoting into their own helix..

It wonders..saunters into realms unbound..

“How can time be still, flow and yet wither away?”

A dimensionless entity.. like the surreal night..

Only absorbed and imprinted on the mind..

 

 

Categories: amibiguity, answers, darkness, life, light, memories, poetry, questions, the mind, time | 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

The Reflection in Thy eyes

Tell me do you love me.. tell me..

Tilt that sinful nape, that sweet chin,

Look into my eyes and speak the words that embrace your heart in  solitary despair,

That are clutched by claws, that are floating in the sea of  your blasphemous cravings,

 

I mumble..

I know not..I know not.. I know nothing of love..

But I drench in the words that sway from your eyes,

I folly to walk astray into the fog where your scent drugs my senses,

I forget the windows that shatter light upon us,

My thirst for you caressed by your unearthly beauty,

 

But moments are still only in the moment,

They was past before my lips could part,

And have withered now into lost causes,

I speak words to hide my shadows of rising sensations,

I speak tongues to tell tales wrapped in lines of desolate poetry,

All from my crest of lone recitations,

You ask not, I remain mum,

 

You know not the soul me,

Yet your touch lies here like dew drops on a leaf, You sink in,

The desire, a remembrance stinging like whip on flesh.

Its a string unstrung that tugs me, I fall into you,

 

Tell me your pain, tell me your desires,

Let me flip the pages,

Let me read the lines imprinted beneath your soul’s ledger,

Let me caress your soul as you rest on my bosom,

 

I know not…I know not.. I know nothing of love,

Moments foregone, are crisp memories,

And immerse the heart in the quest for a song,

A song that synch’s with its beat,

Hum’s in the soul’s tongue of its melancholy desires,

A song it finds, but with words that speak no answers,

That tell nothing of the questions that swim,

Swim in the reflection of my soul, only in thy eyes

 

Categories: amibiguity, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, life, love, memories, Music, poetry, poetry on life, silence, soul, the mind, time | Tags: , , | 10 Comments

Cocoon of Freedom

Do you become what you hate?

Do you become what you love?

Or do you only love what you can’t become?

Or do you love only your reflection in every grain of sand?

What we carve our souls into, is already a mould,

It has thorns, it has nails, and it leeches onto the images our eyes clasp onto,

Every crisp notion of existence I have was a haze before,

It lay stale, rotting in the fungus that was fed to my mind,

At a time when the world I fathomed to exist, existed in only patterns of right and wrong,

And I chose to clutch the trailing thoughts of others,

I stuttered to express what I did not understand,

 I raveled myself in which I bludgeoned myself to believe,  

 

 A ferry waited at the end of my dying stammering self,

One fateful night I met the night guard at the bank,

He asked me if I wanted to crossover then, morning the ferry would be gone,

I collected the shattered pieces of my mind; some jagged ends bled my soul,

On the way I tripped on the tightly laced shoes,

 Then left them near the old tree from where hung ragged clothes, masks and shoes,

Barefoot, I got onto the ferry and set off to the other side,

To find missing pieces of my mind,

To be in presence of those colors of light,

 As the beams passed by my soul, images under the veiled reality would form,

Focusing from infinity to a my finite existence, a surreal view,

Yet an existence where my soul could breathe and could trace the waves,

The curved turbulence that sounded the hymns and curses sung by own mind,

Mindlessness was a destructive interference of rays trapped in a cottage,

 Walls camouflaged by words scripted by others,

I burnt it down, but the fire still crackles, smoke still blows in the wind,

 

A rusted bridge, a path appears every fortnight,

 A path back to the village of my dying thoughts,

Though much gibberish, mutters my mind, and obscure images, see my eyes,

I shan’t climb that bridge,

Heart is a nomad, but it resides in this land now,

Though tormented by the unknown, it is enlightened,

 But the ground is slippery, is cracked and heated, feet are sore and blistered, and nights are chilly,

Yet the solitude is comforting,

 As my fixation with my baffling shell of infinite reality is my cocoon of freedom.

 

Categories: change, darkness, emotions, expressions, life, love, love oneself, memories, mindset, poetry, poetry on life, questions, re-incarnation, soul, the mind, time | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Stilled Time?

STILLED TIME?

Still, all that exits is still, all the exits is stillness,

You sit on the flat earth, neither do your eyes roll, nor does your chest heave to breathe,

You sit and watch just in one dimension,

The clouds don’t pass, nor do you see the wings flutter past the blackness,

All that you see is neither dark nor light, it’s nothing,

The mighty sun is just there, or not there, as it ain’t not giving light anymore, keeping it all to itself,

Light does not traverse either, so there is no light, as there is just stillness,

A still world, as all we see is mono-dimensional,

In an existence as such, what could time mean?

Where nothing was relative to another,

Time, it would cease to exist, wouldn’t it? As whoever heard of stilled time?

Time exits, rising from our need to expand in dimensions, to move,to keep moving,

Time an enigma yet as simple as “a measured step, how fast can you take it”?

Fast a word by time, aah, the frustration when one tries to untangle time in singularity,

Stillness ain’t of this world indeed,

But what if, just what if you stood blindfolded,

The memory of each passing second abolished at the birth of the next, would you still know time?

Stilled time existing in an infinitesimally timed unit,

What if you were just a thought? Could you bear to digest that?

And what you thought was another universe plying parallel to yours in another time,

Each thought, each wishful memory recreating the past, existing in your present,

Yes now, the seconds already lived relived in another timed zone writing another story of your life,

Each wish for your future sculpting a universe that lives and breathes with you in it, as you live in your thoughts now,

An old memory, still running and rerunning in another timed zone,

Then our universe, what would it be? can you see it?

It seems as though a coalesce of thoughts, clusters forming universes and galaxies,

And time? Well, is it still?

As all that passes, passes in its most non-defined, minutest span of time,

Time abolishing time,self combustion,

And pervading infinite stillness, maybe just maybe in real time stilled time does exist?

P.S-  Another unit of time, another year has gone by, Happy new year!:)

Well I have always found time to be an enigma, making everything seem like an illusion, and well I did watch interstellar which fuelled my urge to understand the whole concept, well I failed, but did jot down a few thoughts:)

Categories: amibiguity, life, poetry, time | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Designs by Time- A Maze

Time, It walks as though it hath not a care,

Aloof, dispassionately sauntering, sparing neither a thought for all the desolation, nor the euphoria

Existing all by itself, Thriving in its solitude,

Plotting to cast its well scripted plans onto the void, our world, our lives,

Manifesting illusions, one or multiple for its every click,

We mortals, just mere pawns while it attempts at injecting thrill into it’s veins,

“Oh you epitome of enigmatic existence, why not teach us to live like you?

Maybe it ain’t worth your creative talents, ”

 

A sharp edged hand of a clock, it’s partner in crime,

It plays its part quite beautifully, dexterously,

Digging into the soul’s flesh, Carving out a maze, a unique piece of art,

Maze keeps expanding infinitely in all directions and dimensions,

Invading and capturing the seemingly insurmountable highs and non echoing abyss,

You, my detached mate watch with me the intricately woven designs of your illusions,

Every passing moment absorb the musings of the soul winded in the maze,

Some elated hummings,  some whispers drowning in dread, some lost mutterings of a tipsy lass,

Every click of the clock and scratch of the edge masks the screams and flicks away the tears,

 

Stormy it is,A few marks fade, a few lines blur,

But the hand retraces the trial, else digs and drags crossing to make new paths,

A rendition of mine treads down the old known pathways,

Another struts along the anew one,

Peering ahead, trying to discern unexpected twists, turns and dead ends,

Or misleading ends blurred by fog, Its walls smudged and smeared with just paintings of landscapes beyond,

As though the landscapes are real pathways, not just delusional sights,

 

Inside the maze, one is bound to catch glimpses of oneself, maybe combat the other,

The pawn must face itself, loose itself to seek the truths that haunt and breeze through here,

Despite the unattainable pedestal of truth, the non-existent end one must trudge on if not gallop,

Indulge self in demolishing and resurrecting to find the same and demistify the secrets in here,

One must clutch on to the dagger like hand,

Engage thee, time, while savoring the derisive scars your designs impinge upon us,

While you mock us with your unaffected, disavowed  stature.

Categories: amibiguity, emotions, expressions, life, mindset, places, poetry, poetry on life, silence, society, soul, time | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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