The Resolve

Someday,
There would be a smile on your lips
and a glow on you face
a certitude in your heart
which will nourish unfazed.

Someday,
There it would be birds who'll talk
And the trees would extend their arms
The winds would glitter with gold
Whole earth would light up your form

Someday,
You'd surely realize
That it's only you who lives within my eyes
be it the dreams that I, wide eyed, seek
or the tales of the fairies which find shelter in my sleep.

The Craving

There's a reason why I miss you
you are not in my home
You are instead in the world
which is filled with infectious chrome

My home's facade is white
And it's interior are done in blue
but those are the only two colors
of the others I've got no clue

It's aura reverberates with light
and it is filled in magnificent delight
There's this divine protection in it's dome
That holds the sun on it's own

I feel free, when you are inside
when your ride the path astride
on the horses of my imaginary winds
and the roads of my hide.

The Eternal Pursuit

Yet another gentle Gnarl in my destiny
Another person's life impressed upon me
as I make way through the vacuum of my impoverished spirit
into the shining star of supernal luminosity

A radiant air held me in her arms
when I tried to hide my vivacity inside the barns
to make way for the higher purpose to conceive

Make the knots within to open, divine grace I could receive.

And since then my being has been out of captivity

Freedom of hope and hope of freedom have been my life's veracity

There were wings which were fastened to my human form

And then there was this ill timed flight in my aberrant yarn

I wasn't prepared, to live through my fate

and thus I was refused to enter heaven's gate!

And this vacuum whose hollow does not cease to cease

has been growing beyond itself even as that radiance I am unable to appease

And thus this mingling/divorce from the mortals of this world

of the pain excruciating that with practice may not even hurt

Has obliged me to follow the nonsensical path through the woods

This journey may as well, give rise to the ulterior goods

Voyage - I

Where am I?
What place could this be,
how far away is this place
what is it's distance from my destiny!

Who lives here?
Who strives to build a life
in this stupendous void
in this conspicuous absence of immensity.

Of the things that I have,
my humility is the greatest chattel
as I lay brick by brick of conviction
on my soul in this sole battle.

Bringing the things I know
Together in this drought of my heart
Baring the truth of my being
gathering knowledge in the primal cart

And, yet again I go,
unaware as to where it would lead me
I am indebted to this journey
As a disciple to a master could be.

The Poem of hope

Was it happiness that I saw in your eyes
when I returned from my journey that sunrise
From the abominable world that I traveled to
but came back with my soul with much ado

Were they surprised! Bewildered at my return so soon
Innate in them the fears of the doom
after the marathon of those hard to scrape through moments
In the fancy world of our own childish engagement

Was it a flower whose aroma made me realize it bloomed

waiting for the sun in the morning after night's gloom?

Imbibing in itself the patience of the sky
To hold dark clouds to it's bosom for eternity on a sly

But there's always a silver lining to this veil

the one that gives hope to the soul to appeal

For a future that is blessed with the cosmic delight

and the spark in your eyes, will again take back us to those heights.

Mistress

It reverberates in my conscience
the aroma of your being
Even if the distances are a few thousand kilometers
My love has not lost it's sheen

I still wonders at the capacity of my heart
to keep you deeply instilled in my thoughts
and the impulsive acute cry of pain,
even if I am very sure you are not lost

You'll return, I know,
you'll not retain your happiness in my distress
but these moments of longing that I feel
make me believe you'd always be my soul's mistress!

Mirror

I saw in the mirror

a disheveled human cast
barely recognizable

for it was clinging onto it's past

I humored myself
at what I appeared to be

there was a deep calm within my heart

even as I looked at the caricature
of reining calamity

but when deeper did I go

into my own cleaved shape

I saw lost amongst the light

my belonging to the darker shade

Yes! There was a streak
of burning of my grievous heart

My mind could deceive me

but the mirror played it's part
 

Why did you go?
Is this the reason for which you cleaved my life?
That oft in the anguish of my soul

Beautiful poems takes respite

The Ascend beyond the fall

"I looked insane, wide eyed

at every form passing on the sea shore

subliming from within my caricature were realities

Imaginations were up there on the fore

I was wondering if they shared the same eyes with you

if the same fate their destiny was to sew

I was oblivious of your absence in the hearth of my heart

You were there! were you not, as always.

I tear trickled down my cheek, 

As I rolled over to search for the peak

of my life, which could hand over a temporary respite

From this vantage point whose motive was to give me strife.

But then no image, would be formed,

when your heart is weighted with the burden of forlorn

and your muscles, your tendons it would cleave

and the pain in the bones of body it would aggrieve

And maybe then, you'd have nothing to lose

Your body, your soul would have given up it's use

that you rise out of the ashes of your own past

and look forward to those eyes, still long for them in the magnificent vast

That's when I could smile,

when this realization shot across the bow of my tumultuous mind

and I could feel the energy of divinity again within me

for I had managed to find myself in this sea of serendipity.

I have risen again and again

spiraling my way, through this game of life which appears to be insane

And cyclic my ascend I know seems to be

but isn't that the price that people pay for challenging their destiny?

And ascend I would

may life contrive however precisely it could

Not a part of me would give in, to this deadly maul

It may take away all that I have, it's my spirit that shall not fall."

Making Amends...

It's never the same, 
to be enamoured by the same person 
again and again;
to call her life, 
which was once the strangest you'd have seen,
your own.
To call her past,
the most freakish itinerary of events
your home.
And yet, those eyes;
lovely, globes of passion, let me tell you;
Are again here to mesmerize;
and betray me of the governance of
logic over my life.

Call me weak,
I know you'd call me weak,
but I am in the same trap, once again!
I find my bliss
in the most complicated of relations
Don't care how much it's to your disdain.
And underneath the complications
of these emotions;
I assume another era would sublime.
And I, of all the skilled workers,
would not lay hands even on a dime.
Except again for that satiated heart,
and perhaps the most reckless,
perpetually addicted mind.

Footprints

'A moment it is', she said;
this moment is all that remains between us.
Between us because of this spark, the fire shall never ignite..

No! this moment will not lead to a conflagration.
It won't burn, it would not consume, this fire;
It would just shine, as it does in the ocean at night
It would just glitter as does in the necklace of pearls

It can survive but it would flutter,
this spark..between us, she said; 

'it would not burn forever'
It is 'a Moment' she said assuring herself, 'a Moment it is'

And I smiled..amused,
A moment; I recall, a moment is forever;
It survives in the memory lane,
maybe deep beneath the conscious self;

Its amplitude may be truncated, Its intensity reduced, killed.
It lives, it guides, it approves and ignites;
Its sometimes the lamp beneath the dark of life.

Its the guiding force for battles inane;
and a moment the cosmic design that gods ordain;
This moment I am sure, your will, will survive
This moment I assure, This moment will never die.

Poem Definition: March 17, 2013

Criticize me for I am insane

I am not as toxic as the bugs may imply, 
not jovial enough to be unnoticed, 
not the person who just passed by, 
not ethereal as the humble may be..
Not of the dirt, neither am I born to fly 

Criticize me, for I am insane,

For I am too much to bear for your temperate neuron frame;

I killed systems, as on a regular morning stroll,

and I killed those, whose love invariably took my toll

..and I slay self, when I am not up for the task

When there is no glory, on which I am left to bask

There is a pattern that yet governs my heart

a skill too complicated, an abstract function of art,

lived in the way, the sculptors live their life;

In the solace of the nature, their held in vice

Free of the world and their cosmetic apparent self

But caught in their madness, their own inherent elf

Maybe that's the reason, as to why, 

I appear toxic..and I appear inane 

to the bugs, who have a temperate neuron frame.

Poem Definition Feb 27, 2013