RECLUSE

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Scorching silent darkness

nothing to be heard

no-body

Not even a wandering dream

or a flirting emotional maze

My thoughts are quiet

thudding sound of heartbeats

noise of respiration

Is all that I can hear

in shades of recluse

A shallow dive in the past

An appalled distress

Blocking a poetic phase

reconciling all the burnt anecdotes

melting my extant desires

there’s a smoke in me

Oh I touched myself in a long time

   life can’t be any more crystal

in shades of recluse!

BANALITY

Banality

 

I looked through the pores of city lights

Found none but mystery

Some voices said, some eyes unheard

and faces gloom to treachery

I vexed few lines of charcoal

Pushed them harsh

achieve no grace

Few travel bugs and enthusiasts

Came with songs of reckless praise

to oblique me and bring me sultry

Some voices said, some eyes unheard

and faces gloom to treachery

Clout of light is concubine of dark

Where dark is a patient riddle

riddles are born on gutters of street

beneath stripped flesh of reality

I longed for a friend in empty crowds

Truthful and viscous essentially

Could only find frames without a shadow

Endangered heart with mucous of banality

Some voices said some eyes unheard

And ‘their’ faces gloom to treachery

 

 

 

ABIDING

Abiding!

 

That silence in her

Pushed a clot of blood in me

Knocking the inner voices

Palpable only to the contrite self.

Rubbing the dryness in her eyes

A solemn me argued

I shall be the shore to your flow

Damp and precise

Till the limit of being timeless

And beyond

….. A Famous Fantasy

C1

 

When wicked emotions

brushes the pulp of my heart

Taking the taste of

that sickening saline flavour

poison

and the name chants despondency

Fickling the vicious saint in me

sodomizing the end, to be anxious of

the momentarily struggle, that seems

forever

Licking the thickened walls of my eardrums

Sweltering the sheet of my nerves

Beholding to heel myself penultimate

perhaps on a famous fantasy called

LOVE

BEING…

BEING

 

Why is she so good?

Why can’t she be rude, manipulative, and hunter as the world has been to me? Why she carries my burden as her own? Why her eyes express love to me till the death of the moon? Why she pauses for my insanity? Why her eyes role back on my imprudent jokes and yet she laughs on them to make me smile. Why does her face swell up in gratitude whenever I present her even a petite rose? Why does she hold my hand all the time as if preserving me from wandering? Her actions exclaim a kind hold for all of my inhibitions, my failures, my reveries, and my futile wisdom. Why she still has that ring made of a candy wrapper, which ingenuously I did years ago. Why she caresses my hair whenever I lay my head on her lap talking naively about my endless desires.

Is she an angel everyone desire meekly or a saint or a blessing, I don’t deserve? That touch of her fingertips, her soothing skin, and her brown celestial eyes, her benevolent vocabulary, her magical odor all mazes me to this sulky world. The way she hugs my fallacies with her gracious emotions, leaves me with a tear in my right eye.

Oh the mighty God, give me strength, such that I can scuffle my vacillation, bring out the potent me and can give her what she deserves. The honor, the pride, the imminence of a BEING…

Out of Sync

Out of Sync

What hails me to continue?

Out of sync

To make hays of dreams in the latent path

Hurled feelings just to come out of some jinx

Traversing to unknown and then back to warren

This polite wind from the mountains temp

And frisking of my heart as that of a lynx

A pact of my soul with unheard vent

The dancing leaves on tunes of the breeze

Trooping on my conceivable session

Making merry to debauch the possession

Brokeback Mountains with their crown of pride

Those chattering rivers and their human link

Mystic scent of the uncanny hope

Warming my soul, my blood and my whole being

This roaming heart blessed with pure feelings

Thrusting to be felt by another pure one

Shielding it from the world until it happens

And happens with the point of no return

All of this comes to me in thresh of a wink

And it all hails me to continue,

Out of sync.

…Love has no ending…

 

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I‘ll love you, dear, I’ll love you

   Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

   And the salmon sing in the street,

‘I’ll love you till the ocean

   Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

   Like geese about the sky.

‘The years shall run like rabbits,

   For in my arms I hold

The Flower of the Ages,

   And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city

   Began to whirr and chime:

‘O let not Time deceive you,

   You cannot conquer Time.

‘In the burrows of the Nightmare

   Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

  And coughs when you would kiss

Inspiration

Inspiration!
Inspiration!

The more I see this dormant world

Eyes wide open without a twirl

I catch it dark,

and darker it gets

Thee lay on prey without regrets

Scarce is when all people have woven

Cometh an inspiration in name of women

They are high,

They come with dreams

Color of life,

Living on streams

I wonder how they shine so bright

May be

coz of their dreams upright

Waving the air being still on ground

their balloons of dream sway

Without a sound

Shades of Life

NXT

Sometimes you hinder

Looking in your past

May be scratching a memoir

Sometimes you slither

                                                                In the journey of future

Craving for those dreams

Are these paradigms

Or a mirror bent?

Present,

The lone chore absent

  Sacred is the past and so is the future

     Sacred is today with all the couture

Spirits are dark or bright rife

   You may lie to yourself and un-follow

The Shades of life.

LOST

I met an old friend today, one of the nicest person I know, with whom I had numerous innocent child ridden fallacies. We chatted for a couple of hours, basically the whereabouts of each other. And then when he left with a promise to meet me soon again. I was jibed by a question, why do good guys get nothing, neither the fame nor the love? Are they meant to deal with atrocious life, because they are good and can make way along?

Our friendship started when I was 5, on mutual pence of cricket. Our amity grew over time and over batting partnerships on the cricket field. Our camaraderie wasn’t appreciated by my father, and he was very reluctant to it. Why? Perhaps he was the son of a household maid, a single mother, who used to work in our society to earn their living. I wasn’t old enough to fathom this reason, and even now I dearth that age.

His father left them stranded when he was very young, and he grew up with this pungent feeling.

I recalled he had only two dreams since young, one being to make her mother happy and gave her a lavish life, and other was to marry his love, a girl I didn’t knew much about.

As time folded my way to college, with a different life and different set of friends, I lost him. And today we met after such a long time, only to find about his lost love and a paralytic mother, and his sunken eyes with forgotten dreams. But he didn’t complain either about those desirable dreams or about a lost friend, me.  And I was jibed by a question, why do good guys get nothing, neither the fame nor the love?