Celebration

 

Flowers arranged

In beauty

In joy

In hopes

In expectations

In welcome

In pride

 

 

 

 

Flowers symbolic

Of expression of ecstasy

Of shedding the past

Of embracing the future

Update

One of those days it is

Where nothing goes my way

Churn out poetry I try

But dinged and dissed I get

 

Rejected by stalwarts

Reviewed and ignored

My writing never made

A mark, in their world

 

Heartbroken, I continue

Scripting. More drivel?

Words come easier now

But accolades shall never.

In the news

 

 

Menacing the trends

The slump continued

Unprecedented levels

To downward milieu

 

Models and resolves

Unravel shabbily

Money turns hands

Quickly, craftily

 

Rampant are setbacks

The unfulfilled dreams

Money talks the talk

Brings out human extremes

 

The ups and the downs

Aren’t easy to stomach

All  hunky dory, at rallies

But not so much at plummet

 

All and sundry claim

Their share of the pot

Experts and laymen

With their pain are wrought

 

The vagaries of nature

Is well applied here

All the stochastic motions

Begin to now appear

 

The laws of the finance

Of capitalistic market

Stands out unscathed

While goes on – this racket.

 

Nostalgic melancholy

I come back, here again

I wander far, but I go back

This place is welcoming

Within, time stands still

 

Musty the smells are within

Floors been walked on

Overflowing with things

Stuffed to the gills with belonging

 

Generosity lies inside the doors

Aging gracefully the structure

Brimming still with souvenirs

Of the many past decades

 

Once, a shiny new build,

Now a museum of sorts

Collecting dust among others

Time flies, but is rooted

Wistful

Parallels I draw between

His accomplished life

And my transient shambles

 

Something calls out

A borrowed family

None to call one’s own?

 

Compensation for loneliness

Are the acquired things

That money begets

 

Choices were they?

Or plain ol’ destiny

Shackling him

 

The point of no return

No escape

When here, its final

Exchange

As I listen, I am reactionless

Within I shake my head

In disagreement, I think

I am unsure of it, myself

 

Conversations are beautiful

I participate meekly

I never voice out strongly

But I nibble aplenty

 

Wallflower, I no longer am

Small talk comes easy

Social chatting my forte

But it never was this way

 

Get on my nerves some do

I control myself with élan

Some I blast out amply

Then brood a while in regret

Off you go... yet again

 

The ding of the ringing bells

Woke me up from my reverie

Sweaty palms and parched lips

Put an end to any revelry

 

Dreams, no, nightmares

Plagues all of yesterday

An apprehensive optimism

For it was ‘back to school’ day

 

Books and pens, my first love

Armed with thirst for knowledge

Like New Year’s resolutions

Many things today, I pledge

 

The first week flies by

Reconnecting rediscovering

Then begins the hard work

And at the teachers’ cowering

 

Days go by in rapid pace

The its time to test

Hours as I pore over my books

I meekly let out a protest

 

The realization sinks in

The teachers stand firm

Gently guiding the astray

With pride, your work, affirm

 

And, it is all over

Times to say goodbye

But one things stand out

The strong bonds of an ally.

 

 

 

 

Train tales

I am left with the shake

The aftermath of a locomotion

The big beast of burden

Just whizzed by this station

 

Like rooted in time, I stand

Unable to process it all

If not pulled away

I could stay till nightfall

 

The 70 coaches fly past me

he passengers waved and smiled

I soaked it all in with feeling

For after all I was a railway child.

 

The hustle of the world

For all of five minutes

Embarking of its journey

The lifting of my spirits

 

Snaking away slowly

Way past my line of sight

I am left pondering

At my lonely plight

 

Goodbyes are hard

But its only until next time

Then a cheery hello

Such is, of life, the clime.

 

Inspired by: Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

 

Photo credit: Douglas Salisbury (through Imaginary Garden with Real Toads)

 

Lost in thought

By the side of the river

The silver meander

I walk, lost in thought

To refresh renew and repair

 

The chirping of the birds

The slow swaying of trees

The lush green beneath me

And the blissful breeze

 

A perfect picture they paint

I, however, am rooted within

I look inside my heart

Oblivious to the worlds’ spin

Sensitized

A nasty itch began

Eyes twitched and teared

Runny was the nose

It was just what I feared

 

I knelt down in despair

A silent cry I gave

There it goes again

The ills I have to bear

 

Trigger what was it by

I began to ponder

And, then I faintly heard

A very distinct purr.

Summer days

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the last leg of the day

From summer of this year

Is the crisp warm evening sky

That will soon disappear.

 

Rituals of the warmth

Imminently to be replaced

In respect of the freeze

With cold, as days are laced.

 

As it had often been done,

A hop and a skip outside

Shall be a thing of the past

As, nervously  are huddled inside.

 

A lucky show of the sun

A shy sunny day, in between

The critters come out to play

And, nature does her preen

 

Seasons are a friend to all

Like shopkeepers doling out treats

The cycle slowly moves forward

We see our share of repeats

Parroted

There’s no other locution

Used more often

Reminiscing or speculating

Vocal or written

 

Life without regrets

Utopian at the least

But the joy it begets

Aspired and beseeched

if only.. translated

 

If only I did

If only I could

If only it were

If only he would

 

The hapless sighs

And the lost hopes

The wishful eyes

And incessant hopes

 

A prompt each day

 

 

 

Be you, be cursed

He just throws them

Like that

Humiliating

Belittling, trivializing

Words, sharper than sword

Churning in her mind

They wound her

Pecking away joy

Like a woodchuck

Until the final blow

Striking her down

Negativity cultivated

Cursed by all

From maternal

The heritage, ancestry

Spewed forth

The melancholy, he permeates

To his loved ones

The most loved

Word, with words, he strikes

Forever, mired in such

resentment. Be you, be cursed

The far away gaze ...

 

 

Into the horizon she gazed

Amidst the chaotic crowd

Transported to eons away

As for answers she scoured.

 

Burdens of thought pervaded

Not a moment of respite

There are lives to be saved

Not a day of plain old trite.

 

Amid the race to cure

There’s the other side

Responsibilities to kinfolk

That she needed to abide.

 

She was bound for prominence

Mundane life tied her down

Though pale in comparisons

In banality, she started to drown.

 

Untethered should have soared

Instead against the currents swims

Life is nothing, if not strange

Upheavals are created in a whim.

 

A sort of a tribute ... you know who you are ...

Pipedream

 

Half-baked lines

float around

I write one down

And blanks abound

 

A word stands out

I rush to make a verse

Stubbornly it resists

And, I take a recourse

 

Books and pens I buy

Dreaming a fresh start

But a few pages into

Nothing stands apart

 

I move my place

From work and home

Even a bookstore once

Thoughts continue to roam

 

Not a chance I have

To see through my dream

Of filling up my rhymes

In papers by the ream

 

Infliction

Addicted, I am to the thoughts

To the concept of suffering

 

Defiantly I resist all relief

Not to let go of the misery

 

In the filthy pool of self-pity

I wallow incessantly

 

I wait for the wave of tears

Between now and nether

 

Ridden in the guilt of joy

I refrain from the happy

 

Addicted I am to the pain

The soul wrenching kind