Rocking routine

Friday arrives without much ado,

Weekends sought after are due.

A rolling list of things to do,

Serenity, elusively, I try to woo.

 

Strewn by social interaction,

Routinely are the same faction.

My tasks remain in non-completion.

As I continue on with my infractions.

Tempestuous

Nature’s insatiable desire,

Toward the ultimate equilibrium,

The delicate thread holds on

The massive sense of balance.

 

All the man made contraptions,

Prostrate before her raw power,

The feral urges she fosters,

To drive in the ignored lessons.

 

Not a shred of remorse,

The humans seem to show,

A day will come, not far,

Knowing will dawn on them.

Whiteout

 

For now, awash in white,

The entire land awaits,

A slippery slew will follow,

Until the melt-away floods.

 

As far as eyes can see,

A fair pallid encompasses,

The grass is no longer green

And roads have lost their gray.

 

Piled up, everywhere around,

Mountain loads of snow,

Winter wonderland of yore?

Or is it arctic of the future?

 

Navigating through these,

Feel like amidst glaciers,

Could very well swap shoes,

For a pair of well oiled skis.

 

One of these days will happen,

Discovering what lies beneath,

Spring will unravel it all,

Along with unbridled joys.

Contiguous ambiguity

 

 

I plan for the morrow,

Without knowing in certainty,

If time, I have enough to borrow,

Or succumb, will I to adversity?

 

The dreaded moment, there is,

Comes with no premonition,

Things may not seem amiss,

Still comes the final transition.

Shoring up smugness

 

 

Nurturing comes easy to me,

Is there any other way to be?

Loving without restraining I do,

In likeability, I pull the coup.

 

Like the honey to the bee,

They all flock to be with me,

Clichéd as it may sound,

With pride, my heart is abound.

Prominence, in anonymity

I seek to emulate the greats,
Rub off on me, I hope, their traits,
Sharing some Longfellow tastes,
Dickinson, Whitman and Frost's days.

Walking into their hallowed homes,
Breathing in the smell of their tomes,
Pacing by the desks of oaken,
The air is filled with words unspoken.

I close my eyes and take it in,
In the turmoil, of where I begin,
I harbor no mammoth ambition,
Humbly, I set out on a poetic mission.

Solitude and sanity

A boisterous crowd,

Cracking up in unison,

Bubbling over in laughter,

Smiling in excess.

 

Unknown to each other,

Began the hesitant hello,

Within a couple of hours on,

Had all gelled well into one.

 

Heads throbbing with sound,

Ears reverberating with rings,

Moved on away from it all

A haven, in splendid isolation.

Pursuit of repute

With a fine sense of balance,

Not missing the bucolic essence,

Synergetic hats openly donned,

Eyes set on gold silver and bronze.

 

Quitting is not an alternative ,

Pushing to the limits, the motive.

Daring to live on the edge,

Potentially jumping off the ledge.

 

Inspiring others are the former greats,

Pushing, pulling and throwing weights,

Tiptoeing, twirling and springing high  

Towards excellence, as they vie.

Lettering on the sly

 

 

Juggling time at work,

Writing verses on the lurk,

I embrace my poetry bug

Sustaining it may become a tug.

 

Facilitating it, are aspects,

Of life and its usual suspects,

Strands of words together,

Many revisions, they weather.

 

No matter what the throe,

Whatever plans may throw,

Wherever I am sent,

To write on, is my intent.

 

States and countries don’t matter

Verses are never a smatter

Writings  always my reprieve,

Pictures in words, as I weave.

Laced in poise

Gifts to each other was trite,

But the thought behind, just right.

 

Years haven’t ebbed the joy,

Low key is just a meticulous ploy.

 

Life begins to fill up with platitudes,

Ventilated, it gets by fresh attitudes.

 

Every moment launches itself anew,

Toward content comfort, gets skewed.

 

The day may feel like any other,

There's no way else to want it rather.

Hark back

A little girl, I cowered in fear,
Everyday was spent in high gear,
Await as I did for a pat on my back,
All I got was oodles of flak.

Pathetic as it may sound now,
Lessons from it, I learned to plow,
Harden me for life, it did not,
Delicately, for affection, I sought.

Scarred, others may take me to be,
Childhood, to return to, I am free.
Every day, is a turn of the page,
Everything, time will assuage.

Escape, I do into my own world,
Hoping that as events unfurled,
I shall have my share of stars,
Though sprinkled with battle scars.

Cherished consort

I sit in my corner,
In awe of my charmer,
The love is stronger than ever,
The bonds shall never sever.

Watching in love and joy,
As I turn away, feeling coy,
Words, now, feel overrated,
In silence, thoughts translated.

Blended in unison, forever,
Hand in hand, in every endeavor,
Facing ups and downs, in candor,
As we, through life, meander.

Beyond chums

Friendships blossom and bloom,
Days and hours they consume,
Old memories are exhumed,
Laughter left off, resumes.

Childhood BFFs stay that way,
Age doesn’t dim the cliché.
Toward each other, they sway
Miles between them fade away.

No matter where life leads,
Into joy, friendship feeds,
contentment also it breeds,
Fulfills even unknown needs.

Tryst amidst turmoil

Agitated, whenever I feel,
Colors are always calming,
The store beckoned to me,
Mysteriously patterned and hued.

Shelves lined with yards of reds,
Fragrant candles waft along,
Carved into beauty many a box,
Glittering décor strewn around.

Minutes can turn into hours,
With a pick of the random
A trinket that's filled with hope,
And heart serenaded with peace.

I wondered why it was so,
Not once but every time,
This happens to be the outcome,
Then today, it dawned on me.

It wasn't the materials within,
Rather the transportation sense
Takes me to times serene,
That's nowhere else to be seen.

Casual chronicle

Trains do this to me,
I watch detachedly

I see a house there afar,
A silhouette in the window ajar,

I create him, in my words
In bits and pieces and blurbs

Wrapping up my made up tale
Making it all smooth sail

As the train chugs by
I close my eyes and sigh

I think of thoughts trite
Biographies of strangers, I wish to write

Heart to heart, far apart.

 

No topics are taboo between us,

You pamper me with the right fuss,

The heavy heart was like a rock,

Now slowly, relief begins to flock.

 

Why did I say, all that I did?

Among others ,unknowingly slid,

Tight I feel like a miser’s squeeze,

Despair, in no way, can be appeased.

 

The sighs and sadness wiped away,

Smiles, toward happiness, did sway,

You pray, you can be there for me,

I say, that’s my heartfelt plea.

 

Pithy antipathy

 

 

In anger words are strewn,

Out of proportion things blown,

Ties, one by one, destroyed.

Feelings with abandon, toyed.

 

Isolated by thoughts and actions,

When life is lived by emotions,

Running strong, each one’s passions,

Leading to many infractions.

 

Scrutinized, they are, forever marked,

In silence, move about unremarked,

Faithful, they maybe in actions, though,

Seeds of doubt have gotten sowed.

 

The bigger person, there is none,

Pretexts for it, many are spun,

Life still continues in succession,

Seemingly one remains in repression.

Selfie, you see

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Expectations on me run high,

But spare me that potential bit,

For talent, I seem to have nigh,

Save for the flashes in whit.

 

Make up, I do try to, what I lack,

Paired up, with my sweat,

Dedication behind every act,

Outcomes in moderation might beget.

 

Caressing my failures in disquiet,

The first instinct is tears,

Buried within a raging quyot,

A scarlet mound of fears.

 

Aim for the sky, they say,

And reach for the shiny stars,

What’s the price I have to pay?

A soul seared with scars?

 

Continue I may with aspiration,

But, I shan’t be deemed special,

Struck I am with the revelation,

In the universe, am just a speckle.

A passing allusion

 

An afterthought, I shall remain,

Trying otherwise, is in vain,

Should I to the fact, resign?

Or of otherwise, try to feign?

 

Nurturing, is it a part of me?

Though its results, I never get to see,

Always, that’s me, behind the scenes,

Uncaring, the end is about the means.

 

Can I do anything different?

Do I just ascribe it to be efferent?

Will this feeling be persistent?

Am I destined to be itinerant?

Sweet beginnings

 

 

Innocence breaks my heart,

The world will rip it apart,

As they age from infancy,

Knowledge lets go of it in sufficiency.

 

But the blank slate, that’s their mind,

With not even a trifling maligned,

Unsullied are their joyous smiles,

With nary a worry of the viles.

 

This purity rubs on with ease,

All other worries begin to cease,

Time will seem to stand still,

Life’s purposes will get fulfilled.

Lest I forget…

 

How do I keep her alive?

At least in my thoughts, I strive,

How do I assure remembrance?

With, of normalcy, a semblance.

 

Plastered my walls with photographs,

Seek, I continue to, for an epitaph,

Into her, I wish to breathe life,

And, make up with memories, rife.

 

Fading away into deep oblivion,

Is not, in any way, an option,

Let days into years and eons turn,

The heart, for her, will always yearn.

Receding forward

As the year passes on

To the annals of history,

I am left at the fork,

Of seemingly a crossroad,

In conundrum, as I stand,

Peering at the horizon.

I wait, in vain, for a sign.

Turmoil within roils,

Leaded feet of mine linger

Pensive of the destination,

Moving ahead wasn’t to be

As I turn back, it dawns on me,

These are paths in illusion,

These roads lead to nowhere.  

Aged anguish

 

 

The spoken smiles, the unspoken tears,

Bright exterior, riled within in fears,

Words sound hollow and actions weak,

When gloom envelopes, life is bleak.

 

Thoughts weakened, language burns,

Alleviation attempts warrant spurns,

Burden and bondage seemingly,

Self doubts creep up repeatedly.

 

The end needn’t be near, yet

The finality seems to have set,

Borrowed time, recurring norm,

Beyond capability, emotions swarm.

 

Final

Trendy toddler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A crisp outfit, color coordinated,

The sophistication never abated,

Quite exquisite for a one year old,

Was gladly welcomed into the fold.

 

Magnificent, in his make shift perch,

Interspersed with an excited lurch,

Anything could and was to be delved,

His innate curiosity outdoing itself.

Transience

 

 

 

 

Death they say is a gift,

A stagnancy to the soul adrift,

The only constant in the world,

From the moment, life unfurled.

 

History stands silent witness,

To the ensuing emptiness,

No matter how it is spun,

Death never ceases to stun.

 

The departed soon are history,

The fading words, a mystery.

Even the best, bite the dust,

As one day, everyone must.

 

At times, seen as the easy way out,

But, life retains its own clout.

Every breath taken is beautiful,

No matter, how severe the struggle.

Defray the disarray

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In a puddle of chaos I stand,

Sinking like in a marshy swampland,

The race of life, with its murky goals,

Pains my already befuddled soul.

 

Isolated, I seem to feel in a crowd,

Breathless, like trapped in a shroud,

Some days are silkier than others,

Not that I am given any druthers.

 

A lankiness pervades in all my fears,

Downing whiskey, whilst drowning in tears

Razor sharp bite the days seem to be,

Mouthing a prayer, I try to flee.

Haphazard

 

 

“Life is no bed of roses,

You better write some verses”

Is one precursor to the other?

Or are they both pitted versus?

 

I then take flight to a land,

Armed with my repertoire,

Would my words see me through?

Without dipping into the reservoir?

 

My thoughts came with wings,

In wild abandon, it flies,

The unflustered freedom,

The turmoil within it belies.

 

Clichéd

 

 

His bloodstained fingers

Belied his tranquil manner

Can’t judge by cover

Sapped and Shattered

 

 

Bitter, I try not to be,

Like a rag, when you toss me,

I am no self effacing saint,

When innocence, you feint.

 

Manipulating my feelings,

You inflame my entire being,

Flinging me, every single time,

When I am feeling sublime.

 

Tightening my heart strings,

The torment always stings.

I shall leave you on your own,

You can carry on your intone.

Sham show

Your tears don’t faze me,
Skeptical I continue to be,
Your limited retorts don’t help,
Neither do your frequent yelps.
 
Your aggressive avoidance,
Words that pierce like a lance,
That hurt will never go away,
The distress, never allayed.
 
The heightened sense of hate,
Though, may never abate,
I am the bigger person here,
As to forgiveness, I near.

My little hero

This little girl trooper extraordinaire

Smiling though it all, she declares,

“Let this syndrome – beware”

With my braveness, I will ensnare.

 

Every day, about her, I wait to hear,

Nothing will, of her spirits, deter.

Standing up to it, she prefers,

Of the disorder, she is the saboteur.

Terse verse

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I stare at the four letter word,

Urging my pen to move forward,

‘Poeming’ – isn’t it what I do?

Why is there so much ado?

 

When I sit poring, an hour later,

My palms create a paper crater,

Words are scribbled and crossed,

The clichéd paper balled and tossed.

 

Just another day, in poetry-land,

Where one and all try their hand,

Some days bring forth masterpieces,

Other days, one is left picking up pieces.

Feint a faint

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompt courtesy: Sunday Whirl

 

 

In an instant, everything changed,

Buckling I was under my pressure,

Stride stopped short, but I managed,

To maintain dignity in large measure.

 

When my vision cleared, I heard humming,

There was a crowd bustling and milling,

Like being drilled, my head was thumping,

But, no one around, seemed to be spilling.

 

Navigate, I had to around medical terms,

Garnering and gaining, day by day,

I would not miss my dreadful squirm,

As among the machines, I drifted away.

 

By fortune, I was finally graced,

That bright morning had finally dawned,

From illness to health, I slowly paced,

Today, years later, this memory I spawn.

Homecoming

I open the door and step in,

A sadness lies deep within,

A welcome feeling, yet strange,

Back home, did I manage?

 

Seeing the familiar, my heart flutters.

My home, like my mind, has clutter,

The good kind, of the lived in tatters.

My reverie shall not be shattered,

 

Pictures in frames, of my past,

Trinkets of life, over time, amassed,

Souvenirs collected over travels.

Walking by, my story unravels.

 

Every step now, is a burden of pause,

Avoiding any possible faux pas,

Lingering within are gnawing doubts,

Coming to terms, with my whereabouts.

Mystified misgivings

 

 

 

Downhill, my life seems to go,

Crashing into the dark trenches,

The strength I seek, eludes me,

The waterfall of hurt, drenches.

 

A river of agony washes over,

Taking me to the ocean of despair,

Baying, I moon around in the jungle,

Murmuring a helpless prayer.

 

From mountaintops to gorges,

I hunt for my vanished joy,

Confined within, like a lake,

Days continue to be a decoy.

 

A stream of love, is all it will take,

To break this flow of gloom,

With a splash in the pond of inclusion,

Under the stars, I try to bloom.

Tot’s opus

Waving his fists in rhythm,

He hit the perfect note,
Precisely moving his feet,
Impulsively trying to emote.

The sweet whisperings of music,

The choreography, his creation,
The emitting of the right sounds,
that displayed infinite elation.

A hop and skip, to the distance,

Tugging at an invisible drape,
A kneel here, a twist there,
Thus the routine takes shape.

Enthralled with himself,

Oblivious to watching eyes,
He was on his way to bliss,
And ready for the reprise.

An agonizing account

Criticized, she was today,

For leading her life astray,

Amplifying issues, they alleged,

Unpleasant memories, it dredged.

 

She was moaning, they barked,

In exasperation, she remarked,

It can never be just one’s fault.

Though it all, she did vault.

 

Then one day, something snapped,

Reached within, at skills untapped,

Discarding the cloak, that was her past ,

Onward to her goals, she surpassed.

 

Moving on beyond banalities,

A small price to pay, the causalities,

In serenity and peace she was,

Nothing short of a rebirth, ‘twas.

An ode to the runner

In heat and in sleet,

Alone and in a fleet,

Their destiny is to run,

The race has just begun.

 

Their mottos may vary,

Of failure, they aren’t wary,

The thrill unprecedented

To others, may seem demented.

 

This is not just any race,

The need to keep up pace,

Until their final breath,

A last run at the face of death.

 

This maybe their swan song

From start to finish, amidst the throng,

Collapsing in complete exhaustion,

Their life, the ultimate inspiration.

 

A tribute

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fabled Dawn

A slow drive unhurried,

Deliberate and lingering,

Smelling the proverbial rose,

Or here, the leaves, dwindling.

 

Spirited yellows, the ripe leaves,

Bright reds enveloping the way,

Few greens peeking from within,

As dried browns, rustle away.

 

Washed over by a elusive calm,

Mornings like today are scarce,

Soft melodies waft by, gently.

And, in the moment, I immerse.