Love Seemingly

I have started to lose count as to how many moments of inspirations owe essence to you, Jaana. not the best. but worth a read, i guess.

Love seemingly

When you ponder over it from afar

Love's a full moon, or a nightingale's song

Or some twisted cycles of light and dark

Alas! the many ways men go wrong

'Cause when true love draweth nigh

seems like the usual is the thing opposed

like lookin the starry sky in the eye

& finding the star that blinds you the most

or the warmth of giving up your cloak

in the shivery chill of winter's stint

or feeling the places the rains soak

benumbed and yet just over the skin

Love is that sweet eternal breath

flooding a heart that'll beat to death

Where Blue Birds Sing

This is for you Jaana. You wanted something abt Love huh! i read it, and started writing something. It aint very neat and organised. and ever since my man william immortalised love and its beauty, i feel outta place writing anything abt it. its like, if i cant produce a masterpiece in a particular subject, i dont pick it up in the first place. anyways, read on. a moment's inspiration's all there is to this one. Read it with the rhythm i wrote it with. its got a kindergarten-lyric feeling to it. ;)

Where blue birds sing

and grasshoppers spring

in untrodden grasses

amid mountain passes

with a rainbow hung

upon a patch unsung

of a morning sky

till the beacons die

and the stars shine

in these eyes of mine

as we lie for hours

on beds of flowers

arms in arms

palms on palms

lips making way

for all there's to say

I....I Love you

I Love you too....

Now I am awake

like a placid lake

that's just known ripples

in places it cripples

Seems solace like streams

has flown into dreams,

of a time that's gone

over winters and beyond,

A time that lies

behind closed eyes,

with all hopes in vain

when i open them again...

The Heavenly Funeral

Now this is a complex one. one confusing metaphor i'd say. read it carefully. you'll either love it, or seriously loathe it. it cant stir apathy........

The Heavenly Funeral

 

I am being carried off by spirits,

Who are embodiments of greater things

Agony, numbness, solitude and loss

Weird names, I say, for unscathed wings

 

The angels weep for being helpless

With unceasing fear, their eyes alight

The fairies reach for my hands again

And never let go, till pushed aside

 

Amidst trickling tears and loosening clutches

The procession pours to the gates of heaven

I gaze back and blame my nonchalance

For I can't understand what's about to happen

 

The great gray gates unbolt leading out

Where there's darkness except for a few stars

That lazily cast their gleams on me

As I am thrown down like autumn flowers

 

A long weightless fall directs me

As I slide down strata of many a hue

The ethereal spectacle of the Eden fades

As a whole new world spins into view

 

Faintly, I can feel a throbbing chest

And swollen eyes, that imbibe radiance

My arms and feet can now flutter

But strangely, to me, they seem aliens

 

And then, at a far away lonesome place

I find myself crawling out into light

But the smiles all around perplex me

What was the funeral about in paradise?

---------------------

Home

Nothing like Nostalgia, i guess. and where does Nostalgia stem from? The memories? all the happy days? i guess there's something even more loyal........ read on.....

Home 

I have returned, yes, I have returned

From the shadows that had bound me

And I see that things have changed, but still

They remain like the ones around me

 

My home guarded by dust and dirt

A broken window, signs of theft

A worn out door, without the knob

Yet, it is the home that I had left

 

The grandfather clock, its still there

Where I'd left it alone to rot

It's the hour when I had walked away

The hands move, but time does not

 

The dusty basin, with a leaky tap

Or are those falling drops, tears?

Is someone crying in this wreck?

Cryin for all the lonely years

 

After decades of silence, there's noise

The nostalgic voice of prolonged agony

Its home not because it has memories but

It's the only one who was waiting for me

O Friend!

This comes straight from my archives, a time when i was learning how to concoct marvels with words (which i still am).

O Friend!

Do you remember those times?
When late in the cover of night
When the world would long be asleep
We would talk, laugh and weep

Do you remember those times?
When I'd call u without reason
And you'd patiently hear me out
Without anger, resentment or doubt

Do you remember those times?
When suddenly on a calm day
You'd hiccough for a minute or two
And I would be remembering you

Do you remember those times?
When I just won't talk enough
And without the slightest noise
You'd read out my silence

With a heart that wont beat nor yield
I have yielded to the beaten path
Searching eyes, brimming with hope
Fingers outstretched for someone to hold…

The Scents of Oblivion

It was a moment of inspiration. or something so enigmatic, i really didnt know what I was writing. but all in all, it turned out to be particularly, if not wonderful, peculiar. 

Rhyming scheme - abab

The Scents of Oblivion

Inspired by and dedicated to Miss Purple

The Scents of oblivion, pure and whole

like the washing away of all there is

beneath the isle where rests my soul

like the reaching out of untorn bliss

A fragrance imbibing all others

like the newness of spring pouring in

A bough that's never known shudders

of a calm breeze, or an ardent wind

Evading the two reassuring eyes

of Wisdom, stemming from past alarms

or the Vision, where the future lies

like running, Today, into mother's arms

Free from the time of a biased tense

Rushing along with Gushing streams

cascading down the edge of sense

into the Senselessness of dreams

You can't fathom, how a creeper runs

while reaping only the seeds you sow

You'll never know how, O Prejudiced ones,

to grow away from where you grow

- Aamir