Innocence

Guilt is castigated,
Innocence is glorified,
Is there a balance?



Haiku Heights

Snooze Abuse

A day of so much joy,

That sleep wasn’t needed,
With emotions, it did toy,
But sleeps call wasn’t heeded.

Slowly but surely, it did,
As day went by indeed.
Into delirium, slowly slid,
And, finally, to sleep concede.

Theme Thursday

Predicament medicament

I have lost touch with my past,
And, I certainly have no future,
The day left me a little aghast,
A broken heart, I need to suture.

A little taste of my medicine,
Felt bitter beyond what it sounds,
A long pause, all I could glean
Now to soothe and salve my wounds.

An ode to the wedding dress

The impeccable white one,
Laced in intricate beauty,
Train falling in layers.
A subtle design all over.

Veiled in gorgeousness shines
Through, with the happy glow,
The one that will be traced,
By many to follow in steps.

A perfect sheath of fabric,
With not a single wary crease,
Designed by the best there are,
Frozen in frame and minds of all.

Devoid of disorders

A world without the many,
Dreaded ailments, aplenty,
Toward it, there is a teem,
Will that end an empty dream?

For no reason, they strike,
Hitting the rich and poor alike,
Of deterioration, seems a surge,
As if earth is on a human purge.

Discoveries of cures proliferate,
Derivative disorders escalate,
Physicians with their hands dull,
From the dire, back they pull.





Idyllic in a utopian world,
Where the ideal life is unfurled,
One day it shall be there,
Maladies will be on the pare.

Customary

A mishmash of words I try,

A poem among them, I spy.
Not a single day goes by,
When I don’t with words ply.

Days when in a deluge fall,
With words, I then have a ball,
Other days, I cajole and call,
Even then they seem to stall.

Satisfaction comes at the end,
When the rhymes all blend,
And slowly the verse does distend,
And, next one will impend.

Prayer, words strung together,

Imploring and seeking some,

Expressing gratitude rather,

And, generally within one, from.

Beliefs of one’s own, they are,

Whatever or whoever it is,

Of a strength maybe near or far,

Anything that the heart’s eye sees.

Someone above all is felt,

To whom to surrender it all,

The sorrows then begin to melt,

Happiness is in for the long haul.

A day like none other

An day like just another, I disagree,
Today is the day special, beyond measure
A day when not a thing can be ordinary.
A day of joy and absolute pleasure.

Even if there are none but you and me,
And, there are no packages wrapped in bow,
Today is just the best there can be,
A day with some apropos and a lot of wow.

A year older, playful yet mature,
With love, I cherish this day of yours,
A day with my smart entrepreneur,
A day spent in the out of doors.

Happy Birthday, dearest!!!

Wishes works

Belated today, I set out,
to commend dear little one,
She is one, I always tout,
She never ceases to stun.

A day to celebrate her birth,
Was bright and dawned pretty,
Was one of some lovely mirth,
Where we all sang her a ditty.

With love, she envelopes us,
With joy, she fills us with,
Handling every day with finesse,
The day, birthday, was her eighth.

Quiet Qualms

Maybe I am not meant to be,
A person with no skills, I see,
Am I worth anything today,
Have I contributed in any way?

Maybe I shouldn't have come,
Maybe I should have waited some,
This life, I built for me, here,
Unworthy of any credit, I fear.

Maybe my career should have been,
Some place where I'd not be seen,
In this moment of self doubt,
I just feel like an inept lout.

Prompt: Poetic asides

Self – spirit and scenery

Each letter to pen is hard,
My brain seems to be charred,
A cleanse I need to effect,
Some life into these, inject.

My heart melts at my state,
Constant disarray is my fate,
Languid lethargy causes,
Life’s innumerable pauses.

Worry kneads my being,
Into submissive agreeing,
Flowing with what goes,
And, overlooking my woes.

One day, I will explode,
Today’s events forebode,
The day is not too far,
That, my life, could mar.

Conquered by character within

Hair brushed imperfectly,
Pink cheeks faked with rouge,
Flaws hidden by makeup
Concealers in abundance,
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
She reeks of cheap cologne,
An atypical fragrance flows,
Garish accessories abound
In unmentionable hues.

Suits of faded polyester,
Frayed along some seams,
Crumpled and creased,
Competing with her skin.

Dress maketh a man,
Heart overrules all,
A mediocre exterior,
Conquered by character within.

Prompt: Poetic Asides

Meager emancipation

A shackled existence I lead,
Tied to my work, I seem to be,
Straight jacketed with deadlines,
Ceasing to persist for none else.

Is there a way out ever?
Am I sealed in an airtight box?
Will I be able to come up for air?
Can I choose to wish it all away?

Pretext I am probably seeking,
to hide behind, so my pathetic
excuse for the life I seem to lead,
doesn't seem so dismal.

Balance sheet of life

Age creeps in and you wonder,
What did I do, when younger?
A decade in the real world
What is it that unfurled?

Did I get anything I crave?
A bank balance, did I save?
Or life, satisfaction to look back
Memories my heart can tack.

A million he saved at fifty,
Cool, isn’t that quite nifty?
Me, on the other hand,
Quagmired in quicksand.

Living life to ones’ own,
Seeds of dreams now sown,
What do people after all need?
If not for some of our greed?

Nice n Spice

Spice in life, I have plenty,
Could never of any other way think,
Assortment, there are types, many,http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Tastes changing all in a blink.

Food follows life in ways,
Bland leads to lack of flavor,
Mild was never my craze,
Drama of zing, I’d rather savor.

Prompt: Theme Thursday

Much ado about outdo

The continual will to excel
That’s inherent in her,
The desire to surpass,
Is becoming a curse.

Shut off she is by
The mediocre many,
Illusions of grandeur,
For them she denies.

Evident in the animosity,
That she faces day-to-day,
Slowly, but tragically,
This will be the death of her.

If at first, you don't succeed

Several cliches exists now,
Success and its interpretations,
Trial not once, but a few,
Abilities, a part they play,
Outcome, much less they say.

Effort is the measure I hear,
Lack of, can be failure,
To each, his own definition,
One's poison, another's food,
Ultimately much chased after.

If at first, you don't succeed,
Another try will make it so,
If again, not up to par,
Another one will take you far,
Thus goes the age old adage.

Incensement

The sweet smell of incense,
A purpose does it serve?
Awaken the senses to prayer.
Force out the serenity.

Will it dame my mind
Enough to entrance it
Sufficient to coerce me
To break out into piety.

The fragrant fumes billowing,
Incenses me into deference,
Spirituality zealously guarded,
I lose myself in a stupor.

On no account...

I dream of the day
My fingers will fly,
Creating symphonies,
Never did I dream,
That there’d be a start.

As I pack my bag,
With sheets of music,
Lug around the keyboard,
Never, never! I say
Will I stop learning.

A class recital bit,
I play and take a bow,
Never in my wildest,
Did I ever see it so.
Today, in these, I revel.

Prompt: Poetic Asides

On the dot @ 5.30pm

A paying guest accommodation,
The owner, a lady dignified,
A promise to check out more,
And, a cautious goodbye was bid.

A call the day after went,
Lady with a pissed off voice,
A call was promised at 5.30pm,
What with the delay of four hours.

Dusk set out in the midst,
Frantic searches for a place,
An innocent student life,
Was to begin in a week.

With trust was welcomed,
By another single mom,
A bipolar, she said she was,
Nicest was who she really was.


Prompt: Poetic asides

Spike over silk

The proverbial bed of roses,
Shunned by the daring breed,
The thrill of thorns fulfills
The ceaseless need for speed.

Normal is oft eschewed,
Audacity, the sought after creed,
Routine is balked at as dull,
Invigorating – life is to be decreed.

Whimsy vision

The shredder whirrs away,
The monotonous drone
Consumes the large room,
With everyone but her
Having gone for the day,
Paper ribbons fly by me,
What if this was done,
Rushing in a bid to hide?
What if these innocuous,
Ribbons would reveal bygones,
That could burn our ears?
What if the morning after
Would bring about a buzz?
What if these could have
Made a wonderful life for some?
What if there was evil lurking
Within these strewn strips?
But now at winding down dusk
The shredder whirrs away.

Prompt: Poetic Asides

Chronicle

Fabricating a life of my own,
Adamantly holding on to some
I am stunned at how much I’ve grown,
In stride, I take it all as they come.

A peculiar obsession to past,
I seem to harbor within,
Now this new life, that I recast
Keeps changing, to my chagrin.

Prompt: 3WW

I await the day

Taboo topics I don't touch
Inhibitions, I can't let go
Safe poems are mine, he says
No word of protest I say
The allegations I can't deny.

Poetry, like everything else
For me, I want to them happy,
Desperately so that it's unreal.
Expectations built up much above

Let downs I face all through
One day, at least once I will too
show the brilliance like others
One day, it shall happen.

Prompt - Poetic Asides

Loner

A loner he was,
But he felt stifled,
By the voices in his head.

A loner he was seen as,
By the many around,
He couldn't wait to get away.

A loner he was branded
A tag he wanted to live by,
His multiple personalities crowded.

Postcard to nowhere

Tropical paradise, Serene morns
A vacation without a care
Just an utopian dream it stays,
Wish reality takes the day off.
Things are well here, there too?

Atop the hill, I wanna shout,
Wish I were at home now.

Together in triumph

A day imprinted in history
Beyond imagination,
A game after all,
But captivates a country.
To each their own,
Way of celebration.
Prayers to parties
Gratitude to elation.
Families and friends,
Brought together as one,
Unifying the divided,
Are these messengers of joy,
The players of passion,
Ultimately transient maybe,
But momentarily, just now
Nothing else matters
Just pure unadulterated bliss!
Tomorrow may transform
But today is etched in annals.
Awash with the thrill
And wallowing in delight.

India World Cup cricket champions

Destination, expedition

No rides in buses or planes count,
The travel isn’t even worth a recount,
The journey from the not forgotten past,
To life’s stage, today that I am cast.

Being here, thoughts all over splattered,
How I got here, has never mattered.
Pieces of life left behind enroute,
Amassed as well some of the soot.

Blended like the flour for the batter,
Beaten in with eggs and butter,
Churned together in the big bowl.
The cake in the end is worth the extol.

Life’s process is not dissimilar,
In the end, its weirdly similar,
Now I accept the fruit of my toils,
Later on, can I enjoy the spoils?