Remnants(A half-remembered dream)

Drenched in sweat, In vain I try,

To repaint the majestic splendour,

Contumacious recollections creep and I,

This phantasmagoria, I render,

It meant to me, I know not what,

Maybe as much as my Muse's breath,

That clouds my biased looking-glass,

Into my subversive, inward, dimlit room,

Or a dusty, long-lost artifact, that

Avoids an avoidable corner, In class,

Avoids my gaze, In stealth,

Maybe a significant tear in gloom,

Or the Chrysanthemums in full bloom,

In a Japanese wedding-night,

Or on the grave of a valorous British knight!

'Ghalib', I had christened him,

He had fought with me till the very end,

Or I'd like to believe, the dim,

Grey eyes, The mast that had held me aloft,

And like the knight I'd like to pretend,

I was amidst the heavyset thickets, The soft,

Rustling of the verdant Peepul leaves,

Then the freezing Tundra, Merciless as ever,

Brought out in me my primal wants,

Amidst the shrieks of forgettable taunts,

Again, as my heart still believes,

New realms in her, I discovered!

Mere words for her, never would suffice,

What just a casual glimpse could be,

Fathom the depth, That moment precise,

Of the abyss, My passionate mind,

Invaders lame or third-eye blind,

Seized my momentary lapse, To flee,

But I fought, 'Ghalib' the victorious one,

With a gallop, My magnificent steed,

To decapitate the infidel, To make him bleed,

I believe I killed the wretched one!

A crack I saw, Like platonic shifts,

The Pangea, that once enraptured me,

Fragments I beheld, Now scattered in seas,

Confused as Frost with alternate paths,

Unlike him, indecisive, My wrath,

Rained down on my fictitious, bewildered self,

As I sought her peaks, My ever loyal fleets,

Scrambled up and down like little elves!

And now the vespertine zephyr it blows,

A salty sting my probable wounds,

A swansong or an anthem glares,

From the conches, As I bellow,

The words that now don't ring and sound,

Mere vignettes, Of a hazy dream,

And the eyes of my reflection stares,

At a blank, irrevocable thought-stream!

And as soon as it had begun,

In white flashes, It disappeared,

I remember footsteps, I still work the rhythm,

When I walk alone, Or sprint or run,

And the vessel I so diligently steered,

The vassals, And my lighter moments with them,

Sometimes I paint the majestic walls,

And let the dull drapery cover it all!

Now, read the last paragraph, and then begin from the beginning, a cyclical poem, written for the Creative Writing GC.

पंछी

आज़ाद पंछी!

ईर्ष्या से तुझे निगाहें भर देखता हूँ,

तेरी स्वच्छंद उड़ान,

मेरी अभिलाषा,

क्या मैं इसे कभी महसूस कर पाऊंगा?

हवाओं को ओढ़ते हुए बादलों की नरम छाँव में,

अपने मे ही राजा और रंक समाए,

धरती और आसमान मुलाहिज़ा कर,

क्या मैं अपनी शेष ज़िंदगी गुज़ार पाऊंगा?

डालियों से डालियों पर,

मुल्कों से मुल्कों में,

दिलों से दिलों तक,

क्या मैं ऐसे दृष्टिकोण के क़ाबिल कभी बन पाऊंगा?

अपने दर्मियान फ़ासलों के बावजूद,

इस आत्मा की गुज़ारिश सुनो,

अपनी उड़ान में लहराती उम्मीद से,

हमें निरंतर प्रेरित करते रहो,

उड़ते रहो!

I am.......

I am,

But a mere spectator,

Not omniscient, maybe not impartial,

I see at night, mounds of corpses,

Tendons in the beaks of scavenging vultures,

Who salvage from the wreck,

To keep themselves afloat,

'They're blameless',

My heart lub-dubs,

Survival is the ultimate goal,

And they'll perish soon,

To be eventually free,

Of all the sins of force of habit,

If I were the keeper of the keys,

Of the elusive golden gates,

I wouldn't ponder a moment to let them in,

But once again the mounds of corpses flash,

And leaves me to speculate and possibly punish,

But I am,

A mere minuscule mortal,

What right have I to mock the sky?

The fireworks that succeed a triumphant venture,

Possibly the lesser of the evils,

The devil's alternative, plausibly,

But how may I rest in peace at night?

When stabs at me pangs of guilt,

The unguarded mounds need someone,

Maybe a keeper,

Or probably a nurse to wipe off a lonely tear,

Concern on a now numbed, motionless cheek,

And now I see a couple parties in the horizon,

I think they're here to help me clean,

To wash to the sea the frothy mess,

Their guilt,

Oozes from the remnants of innocent souls,

Destitute bodies hand in hand,

But they prove me wrong,

A bewildered me,

I gape at the in situ crematorium,

A herd of necrophiliacs throw themselves,

Into the unassuming mounds,

The backdrop changed to a modern day colosseum,

In colourful vignettes,

Partly phantasmagoric,

The nation, the hailing spectators,

The placards and the vuvuzelas,

Out of the central Roman theme,

I float down to the still numb bodies in the mounds,

Even the parties emotionless in their motions,

Amazed again,

I grasp the real,

Mere glorified whores,

Mere attention seekers,

Shameful brutes to make me cringe,

I float in my nightmare to a nearby lake,

With the crimson not yet caressed its cheek,

I throw in flat, round pebbles that glide,

On the otherwise still surface,

Ducks and drakes,

The little game called,

I wake up confused but glad,

With a gash on the finger I cut on a pebble,

That left the pond slightly redder.

An Ode(To the Unknown)

This shady coconut grove,

Offers a revelation of sorts,

A safety net, this protective alcove,

Coalesce on parchment, inky blots,

Of pride, Of pity, Of admiration,

An inimitable, improbable cocktail,

Begins a new kind of titillation,

On this vast ocean sets sail,

Not a yacht, but a sturdy boat,

Of doubt, of seething, persisting pain,

I imagine a sneer, a colossal gloat,

Personified, the hope in the waters slain,

Where indeed does the Sun rise?

Is the scintillation just a ball of gas?

These questions in my mind arise,

The illusions of immortal beings crash,

To upset my being, a loud crack,

Brings out of a trance, my weary mind,

With the lethargy of an infinite mass black,

I return to this spasmodic bind.

Spilt Milk

Spilt milk,

The epitome of all that's lost,

From my grasp unwittingly,

Fell a pail,

On the unforgiving floor,

Leaves me shattered and blank,

Comes in,

From the kitchen door a cat,

Laps up the milk and the pervading gloom.

ख़ौफ़

जाने क्या तराना ये दिल मेरा,

अपनाने मे तुला है,

नाज़ुक डोर से लटकती उम्मीद,

मे ख़ौफ़ घुला है |

जैसे पानी मे खून की एकलौती बूंद,

से झलकती लाल,

टपकती मुझसे आँसू आज,

ये दुखभरी माहौल,

मे न मैं जी पाऊँ,

न जान दे पाऊँ ||

Sonnet #1

I have a way with words,

Is the belief in which I exist,

None the ways explain the chirping birds,

Or the fluttering butterflies that persist,

In my gut, the pit of my navel,

To haunt every personal thought of thee,

Rings like a bell, like a metal ladle,

In a metal vessel rotating free,

My head, the more stable reference frame,

And the cacophony, my ripply thought stream,

You, the pebbles, the one to blame,

The smooth round ones with a wicked gleam,

Clouds the eye, constricts the flow,

To the vast sea,still steady, but slow.

Fear

The greatest fear a man could fathom,

Is becoming the being he ridicules,

He wishes not to put a binding jinx,

And in him to let his fear manifest,

Back then hideous, a warty toad,

The mind sculpted, Its free will,

Like a wild, majestic stallion white,

Unreined now and lumped with earth.

The Mynah

Prostrate, A single mynah bird,

Harbinger of doom of yore,

I ponder what harm could possibly befall,

A stark naked, unintentional loner.

Human Race

A leotard of stretched tensile emotions,

Clothes the voluptuous form of gruesome whims,

A grotesque remnant sickly blob,

Crawls on the smoothened curves of conscience,

Does a back-flip into the pool of fear,

Leaving a trail of scattered sticky green,

That evolves to the familiar facade,

Of our very own human race.

The Note

I throw a crisp, hundred rupee note,

Right out the french window bright,

It wafts in the air like a paper boat,

On a makeshift muddy stream, A Sprite,

Caresses the bill with an unformed hand,

As it floats downward to kiss the sand!

Timeless, Our father's noble visage,

Shines bright like a star in the northern sky,

Crumply lines and blots successfully deface,

A barrage, of poisoned arrows whoosh by,

The one in the sky now caked with dirt,

With grime and slime, A generous flirt!

I look out of the french window bright,

With not a hint of regret that pricks,

A callous heart unmoved by blight,

Or pain or tears or a miserable trick,

Hope that a drop of honest sweat,

Would glisten and brighten the visage,

The old man in death.

The Pebble

A round pebble against the turbulent flow,

Eroded the sharpness the forest stream,

Nudges the edges like a hand so slow,

Firm in daring, To not effervesce and gleam!

The Ballad of Pine - III

'One day', She said,

'I'll be all yours,'

And wrests out of my fist,

A lonely existence,

Promises forever the shady grove,

Of her long tresses,

Leaves an awkward grin,

A momentous momentary digression,

My feet feel the ground,

Quite as hard,

As I left it a sadder moment ago,

Like my arrogant abstinence,

From all the endearing warmth,

Except the flaming mid day Sun,

That drinks from me my sanity,

With a hollow reed,

Painted on with cowardice,

Finished with flourishing drapes of fear,

Reminiscent of a cheesy glucose ad!

Ties that Bind

Enthralled, without a hint of doubt,

Not wealth, not fame, nor political clout,

Relieved, from the clingy ties that bind,

Now crumpled sheets of scribbled lines!

प्रिय सज्जन!

कटु कंठ प्रिय सज्जन!

न कायर न डरपोक ये कठोर मन,

हम न डरेंगे इस बार,

सीना तानकर सरहद पार,

करेंगे लेकिन न मानेंगे हार,

मन मे है ख्वाब सजाए,

ख्वाबों मे फूलों न समाए,

बहाकर दर्द का दरिया तेज़,

उस पर उम्मीद की नय्या भेज,

माझी मेरी अपनी ईमान,

नेक दिल की धड़कन समान,

चलेंगे ख़ौफ़ की नदिया पार,

तुच्छ हमें ये तेज़ धार,

इरादे नेक तो दिल अभीत,

होठों पर खुशी के मधुर गीत,

और मौत मेरी मीठी जीत!

காதலி!

காதலி! என் கண்ணிமயில் நீ,

ஊஞ்சலாடும் கனவில் கண்,

மூடி ஓற் நல் நிமிடத்தில்,

வானத்து தூரம் மனம் தாண்டி,

சொர்க்கம் கண்டு மகிழ்ந்தது!

=>

Beloved! On my eyelids,

I dream of thy sprightly dance,

I close my eyes, that opportune moment,

Traverses to the sky in a leap, My mind,

And rejoices at the sight of Heaven!

Peas in a pod

For days, a couple peas in a pod,

Lay snugly, even hand in hand,

Fed us, the beams of heavenly light,

And a jig, the frivolous breeze!

Together we grew, rain or shine,

Shared our hearts, not just the stalk,

Along came, the mighty, bountiful spring,

Swelled our hearts and swelled our pride!

So graceful, like a mother-to-be,

Glowed like stars, our impatient dreams,

Across the sky, the canvas life,

Impertinent, we exploded free!

The shelter above our heads, gone,

So novel, the ways of the world now,

Still so assuring, your healing touch,

In gleeful ignorance, we rhymed a tune!

Then one bright, gay summer day,

Doused in yellow, earnest showers,

Plucked the pod, those nimble hands,

And out fell the couple, green peas!

I know not where my heart is now,

I know not where her heart is now,

As ornamental as a snowman's eye,

Or as necessitous as a green pea soup!

Farther then, or nearer now,

Know not I, but still I smile,

Curved up my lips, and a salty trail,

I applaud with a gritted smile!

The Ballad of Pine - II

Oh! On chilly nights I long,

For the selfless sun's warmth,

Then pine for dark clouds that soothe,

To shade me from the singeing burn,

During showers I yearn for the autumn breeze,

That sways the lowly acacia branches,

And then I clothe my unsatisfied self,

With the tiniest, smoothest cashmere,

And nurse so fondly a nervous itch,

To leave me partial once again,

Partial to the satisfied being,

That seldom transcends to binocular vision,

And yet in earnest, I do hope,

I'll see the dawn, that fated day,

I cradle so fondly between my eyes,

Like the apple of my eye,

Love! The day I would run freer than wind,

The day I yearn for you no more!

An Ode(Admiration)

Strummed a melodic chord, your fingers,

In the stretched heartstrings of mine,

Once rusty, now the melody lingers,

Like bronze on mahogany divine!

Dissonance once a hooded mystic,

The tritone, it made me rhyme,

Denies the change, my heart, so drastic,

Buries the dissonance, the sands of time!

Dealt a wicked hand, the world,

Played the rhythm to each single beat,

In severe pain, my parched lips curled,

Till your nectar dispelled the heat!

The Blossom

Walked down the path,

This merciful life,

Flowers and memories strewn about,

I picked up from the street,

The prettiest blossom!

Untrampled,

And in full bloom,

It looked at me with tired eyes,

A captivating gaze,

Or a cry for help?

The petals,

Luscious like the vine,

That passes by along my side,

The stalk a tender, fragile hue,

With a solitary leaf!

The pollen,

The emotions that relate,

To a special, lovely bloom,

Mere grains for most other ones,

An irritant to the rest!

I gazed into the tired eyes,

To decipher what they held inside,

Yet again came rushing,

Those emotions,

That wrench my heart!

The horizon,

Now a dull ochre,

My shadows now lag behind,

I pondered what those eyes would say,

To the next familiar gaze.

नज़ारे

देख भले तू नज़ारे,

पर करना न खुद के प्यारे।

बोते हैं जो उम्मीद के बीज,

न चलते बिन सहारे।।

The Sapling

Happy like you, once I was,

Fluttered with the breeze, my heart,

Like your leaves, I let it pass,

The ocean between, my fingers apart,

My hope, the large water-body,

Dried up, unlike perennial rivers,

Which equally nurture, pallid or lardy,

More like the mid-day autumn shivers,

Nullifies life, the comforting verdure,

Strewn across the brown, stolid earth,

A highly tensile sheath of leather,

Unnerved by either death or birth,

The evil in me, it behooves to fathom,

My spring will come, with thy autumn!

The Grinch

Gleaming and screaming aloud the green,

The hide, the exterior, the spoilsport grinch,

Held in his heart, this image unclean,

Of a drab, dull world that makes me flinch!

The grouch, it pained him to watch,

Festivity and hope in the neighbouring town,

Impatient, and a cruel plan to hatch,

Clicks his tongue, this thieving clown!

Deep in us, lives this cunning beast,

Deep in slumber, he threatens to wake,

Sonorous cry, his intentions in the least,

Ducks and drakes of our dreams to make!

A Eulogy(Lies Beneath)

Ah! What lies beneath the tomb,

The sepulchre of the celebrated monk,

Curled up, An embryo in the womb,

Feeds not, Feeds on, an umblical cord,

The remains of a neck, a loosened noose,

Pleased him did the clang of metals,

Or fine damsels enrobed in petals,

Rose petals or the thorns adored,

The crown on the celebrated crown,

A virtuous monk or a deceiving clown,

A deceitful monk or a lovable clown,

An innocuous riddle or a blatant blame,

A blatant blot or a jestful game,

We're left to wonder, This inane prank,

Soporofic or profound, A simpleton or a savant?

Life.

Life, As its shady, imperial self,

Throws at me a mean die,

A gritted smile through unjust teeth,

And a gaze that doesn't lie!

The Toddy Tapper

I saw him at a very impressionable age,

A vertical amphibian on a Palmyra,

Moulding clay, My tender, fickle mind,

A folded loin-cloth and prominent veins,

Distracted by baubles and saccharine the same,

I held at awe the Toddy Tapper!

Rustic with his tongue, eyes and gait,

And cooled him the mystifying liquid white,

Salivated my inner, manacled spirit,

He offered me some with a gleaming eye,

A taunt and a pinched, right cheek,

Amazed, The allure of the forbidden fruit!

Couple conversations and a couple charming cups,

An illusion, This lazy summer breeze,

Danced around like tainted, sneering harlots,

Drenched in sweat a couple imbeciles,

Carefree, Like the birds flying south,

The Toddy Tapper and Me!

To this day I try hard to recollect,

The visage, The wizened, old Toddy Tapper,

All that remains is a hazy memory,

And a mark on my hirsute right cheek.

To Cheer

Trust me not about love, O Dear One!,

But believe me, Take my hand and follow,

When I take thee to the world of hatred,

For O Dear Lady! I've overstayed my welcome!

The Shikara

A dream of mine painted a picture bright,

Picturesque, The heaven on earth,

Illuminates the scene, The full moon light,

And warms a fire upon the hearth.

On the Dal, A magnificent Shikara,

Still as night the pristine waters,

Breaks the charm the floating Shikara,

Cuts through the surface in ripples and splatters!

The green of algae, A deceptive sheath,

Underneath relics of affluent times,

Atop the carvings, A wretched man blithe,

In stark contrast, Struggles to rhyme!

He sings about the older day,

In the words of a wandering minstrel,

'To her, The red of the apples strayed,

And adorned my dreams with festive tinsel!'.

Remnants of a man and a grizzled mane,

Perched on the edge, In masterful stance,

Sparkled in his eyes, A light arcane,

He rows, His duty in penance.

Aboard the vessel, I held her tight,

We coalesced, An amorous entity,

Her velvet tresses, Black as the night,

Personified the lingering sanctity!

Straddles the Shikara with a drag,

Away from the luscious apple trees,

Aloft the mast, A tattered flag,

Flutters in vain to be set free!

Rumbles the ground beneath the lake,

And the land beyond the snowy peaks,

There a thousand innocent lives at stake,

And here of smitten guilt I reek.

Prods my side, Her dainty tease,

Clings on to me, My elusive key,

Leaves a chill the love-laden breeze,

And the tattered rag's set free!

Entwined our bodies, We breathed as one,

Rocked with the boat our tempestuous souls,

Merge as the horizon and the Sun,

Two lovers and the smudgy charcoal!

I know not when we drifted away,

Still in my head her twinkling eyes,

Transcends to real, Every lonely day,

And all my primal wants appease!

Regress

I dabbled around with playful colours,

A painter's palette my canvas life,

Disorder, Like the balding head of hair,

Tufts of black, My scattered existence!

Donned metaphorical jerseys of stubborn pestilence,

Wearing my emotions on its sleeve,

Bedazzled, Bedraggled by an angry mob,

Surging seas of permanent change!

Drunk on the intoxicants of elusive power,

Banished to jungles a flickering conscience,

On all fours I hunted for it, Ecstatic,

When my balloon ego blew in my face!

Veered away from treacherous precipices,

Sometimes a tail between my legs,

Chivalry, Maybe foolish bravado,

But I lived long enough to tell the tale!

The Ballad of Pine

The little care for her beneath my heart fluttered,

Like a butterfly my rough fingers clasped,

The rustle, A couple of unruly banyan branches,

As they sway in vain to reach the ground!

Reminiscent the idea of a constant murmur,

Before the water engulfs the land,

Biting my nails in bated anticipation,

I wait for the tremulous storm, To hit me hard!

Dreams

Dreams, A momentary relief from reality,

Elates the heart to heights unknown,

Admirable, The power of a simple fantasy,

Erstwhile fields of gold resown!

An Autumn Stroll

The time of the golden-tinged sky,
And the flight of the fair-winged birds,
To capture in words, My awe I try,
The picture paints a thousand words!

Strewn across the path the autumn leaves,
Untrodden by feet the tender flowers,
A carpet for her feet the nature weaves,
A flowery rain, A flaky shower!

There was none, But my fair maid,
Who walked hand in hand with me,
Mere words for her would never have said,
What just a glimpse would be!

Pearls the lips, An unearthly hue,
Dreams of a thousand onlookers they slew,
Missed a beat when her delicate hand,
Was held in mine with a steadfast stand!

Mirrors the eyes, A pristine charm,
As around them flowers, Honey-bees swarm,
Intent gazes followed in vain,
And none but mine was wholly sane!

I know not if it were a dream of mine,
Or an illusion of my biased eye,
But never before a dame so fine,
Pampered my being with a prudent eye!

And then I walked on and on,
Across the beauteous autumn scene,
A hunger and a love forlorn,
As I kissed her in the becalming breeze!

Another eventful day begins.....

The nimblest hands,
They held the door ajar,
A night of unhindered passion,
An armistice of strongest emotions,
Nears an end,
A moist display,
An amorous weakness,
The sweaty sheets,
The night a familiar facade,
A tepid stream hits his face,
The egg,
A singeing frying pan,
The shades drawn,
The warmth of the incredulous Sun,
A pattern from a cast iron mould,
On the marble floor,
Multiplied by a weak tangent,
Another eventful day begins.

An Exercise in Futility

Set afoot to carve a niche,
Blisters and burns hardly deterred,
Thorns and beds of nails,
Pierced the foot but not his will,
A punctured heel and higher spirits,
But so soon left a tired soul,
Left him in darkness to reminisce,
No stone unturned, Another milestone,
Mossy, No doubt, But brought a cheer,
Victory of a special kind, Uncelebrated,
Like the death of a true martyr,
Buried under earth without a name,
Flickered a flame ever so fickle,
Elixir of hope, for the aching heart,
Nothing amiss, her heaving bosom,
Deep in her eyes, embedded dreams,
And lips, ever so full,
A mere mention, A million repercussions,
A gentle tap, And drenched in perspiration,
A little care, Was all the yearning,
The once stolid heart now irrevocably unstoic,
Meanders down his cheek, Tears and more tears,
Till it leaves a salty trail,
An exercise in complete futility,
For the time leaves a man sadder and wiser,
And he wonders what a subtle redefinition then,
Would have done to the constant murmur,
In his head, this persistent battle,
Him against Himself.

Man - I

Clad in clothing almost uncustomary,
Incognito, It seems like Robin Hood,
Into the town, The Sheriff unwary,
But no Sheriff, no cop, anywhere stood!

II

Incredulous like the stars, the human mind,
But I doubt if equally selfless,
Definitely in them a little spite I find,
Unlike the stars who equally bless!

III

It is impossible, for pigs in a sty,
To even think about another sty,
So placid, these wretched beasts,
Are they clever enough to teach?

The Lotus Blossom

A decayed, withered lotus blossom,
Once a succulent, pinkish hue,
Half buried now in cemetery sand,
The grayish tint of death.

Now crawl on them, little bugs,
That feast on dead human flesh,
Once adorned like bling, the glorious flower,
Little worms that fed on life.

Together with our lone blossom,
At least a dozen there were more,
Now strewed along like sandy dunes,
A bouquet once they were.

When full and red, they signified,
The full, quivery lips of the One,
Whose shaky heart then ached in vain,
Now alongside, they rest in peace.

Sweet Poison!

In my hand the nectar of life,
Not exactly, But my clouded mind,
Hardly differentiates, The sweetest poison,
From the bitterest drug!

Employing all the brute, teethy force,
Open it with a feel of froth,
A little blood tastes redundant,
Like the little life the poison sucks!

I

Weep not, O little child of mine!
Bask in the warmth of the generous sun,
Dwell in my arms, Safe and cosy,
I'll shield you from the blight you fear,
Partake with you emotions thine!

Mourn not, O light of my life!
The murkiness in the sky shall pass,
The days of sun and toasted wine,
Fresher than ever, in the annals of mine!

Trust me, I swear on thy fair breast,
Not far the times of the ebullient one,
Greener pastures there will be,
No doubt, O love! You have,
These bearded loons will cease to be,
The freedom bells will ring!

God forbid, If there should be,
As much as a rustle in the bush,
Hold my hand, Devoid of fear,
We'll let the moment pass!

II

Leave me not, O fair one!
Don't let my poor heart burn,
Life, What life it would be,
A life for none and, just for one!

III

If one dark, grey, gloomy day,
A bullet should pierce my breast,
Don't cry, Don't weep, Don't even mourn,
Keep in check emotions thine and,
Console your fickle, finicky heart,
Just cherish the smile on my numbed face,
And that is all that I could say!

Cock-a-Doodle Town!

Life at the Cock-a-Doodle town,
Reinforced like concrete on bars of steel,
Up they go, Then they go down,
No dreams their eyes reveal!

Clickety-Clack the hooves of the prudent men,
Hypnotised, Their spiral eyes,
A noose, at the end a foolish ten,
Around some cheese, Excited mice!

Bang-a-Bang his pistol sounds,
Scattering the country bumpkins along,
Ignorance, He finds abound,
Whistles and breaks into a song!

Now the time of lighted lamps,
Activity abates, Voices down,
Yawn-o-Yawn his authority demands,
Such is life at the Cock-a-Doodle town!

An Ode

You! Yes, You! Every artist's nightmare,
We run hither-thither the fear you bequeath,
A helpless, hapless beast into a snare,
Inevitable your grasp, Not one you spare,
Swell the pride of the phoenix-few,
Catch by the heel of the escaping flock,
Inherent misery, A dead sea beneath,
The pain, O sweet pain! The incredulous virgin,
Know not, just heard the veteran blue,
Know not will he till a good, fine day,
You grasp him with your steely fist,
And to his little child he says,
'Rough was the road that I trod!',
Glorify you, You shameless thief!
The wheels set in motion for the vicious circle!

A Poet Once There Was!

Forgive me, Sire! For a mere poet I am,
Animate in the inanimate I see,
The minuscule in the grandest charm,
Attain bliss at the slightest nod,
As nudges my bare skin the breeze,
Stare at the sky, the nameless stars,
As they float the unknown vacuous realm,
With a frown on thy face thy memory scars,
Recollects the name, Thou overwhelm!
And I spirited, and a smile so broad,
Watch the nectar drinking bee,
As it frolics through its floral fate,
Behold! How beautiful the nature mates!

Last Caress

A silent tear on the barren sands,
My heart, the stone, now a pulpy mess,
Shaky legs and quivery hands,
No time as much as a last caress......

Greed

Oh my lord the giver of all,
On whom does the fault lay,
Through an eye a sea of suffering,
Heaps of gold through the other!

........

Life for me the raging sea,
Time the waves that it bequeath,
And the place the sun meets the sea,
Bereft of spite the sea beneath!

Surfing through the watery realm,
This spectacle a frequent thorn,
Voices abate, Spirits overwhelm,
Another one swallowed with scorn!

Switchfoot till the waves recede,
A sigh of momentary relief,
A wayward mind and a haggard heart,
Now prepare to drown with grief.......

Gluttony

A smile on my face, this spectacle I see,
The luxuries of few precede the necessities of the rest,
Spews blood at the stench of the acrid fumes,
Richly manacles on the poor man's breast!

On the anvil strikes the blow,
Wields the weapon the gluttonous few,
Like in the jungle the once frivolous doe,
Now looks in vain at the luring dew!

Angels from heaven.......

The verdure of my barren lands,
Hearts as selfless as pure gold,
Longish coasts of cogent sands,
All my dilatory instincts sold!

No claque at a sold-out show,
No man at the political helm,
Profound to know and a pride so low,
Angels from heaven, spirits overwhelm!

Brazen

When the tears are at the the brink,
The ship of hope's about to sink,
When deep in gloom emotions freeze,
Sears open afresh in the cold breeze,
He reaches out for a helping hand,
And he's left far-far behind,
Aestival warmth gives way to the cold,
Comes to his mind the stories untold,
Creeping and crawling to a crimson cage,
Self-inflicted wounds come of age,
Grotesque manifestation of his fears,
In every little thing far and near,
He yearns in desperation for the sunshine,
And in horripilation, shivers run down his spine,
In resplendent glory and unfazed,
In his sanctum he stands brazed!

Writer's Block

Creativity, the weapon of my choice,
In its sheath for a period too long,
Awaiting an inspiration, As much as a noise,
To not let these feelings prolong!

I walked on thro' crowded streets,
Conversed with a discordant few,
Gouged out my eyes for enormous fleets,
And buried my inhibitions on a pew!

Strained my neck staring at the sky,
At the flight of a boisterous bevy,
Obscure interpretations flash by,
Over flooding sanity's levee!

Hither and thither my mind scurries,
Paranoid I start to trot,
Though in my mind a million worries,
Still none to inspire a rhythmic plot!

A spark I seek even underneath,
The salinity of the dead sea,
A spur to destroy the parasitic sheath,
Just a push would set me free!