Left turn ahead...

Once again I did stare at the road
Stretching straight to infinity,
Lifeless as one secluded graveyard,
Staring back with a plausible pity.

Nights after days had passed afore
I’d ignored the numerous right turns
Every time they appeared forth
A recurring episode of eroding runs.

The huge canvases on either side
Perfectly attained a panoramic collage.
Anything that appeared alive
Divulged to be merely a mirage.

The only sound that I ever heard
Was the sporadic breeze
Caressing the enduring landscape,
Inherently whispering with ease.

Dangling in between the parallel edges,
I wished to break the tedious terrain,
To outcry the persisting resistance
The moment emerges the right lane.

Once again I did stare at the road
But with one sturdy sentence unread
Until amidst dawned the words,
‘Left turn ahead’...

Merry Go Round...

The wrinkled sheet still loiters around,
Waiting restlessly for its first touch
From the nerves of a vacuous mind,
Hustling, deficient of a sturdy hold.

Tepid as the rising sun, gleaming
Past the drapes of translucent mists
That have persisted for long enough
Under the vigilant night sky.

Sweeping across like an unbound storm
Through mazes of the catholic woods,
Seeking among the wreck henceforth
A leaf that remained unturned.

Timid as the withering sunset, realizing
Its inevitable lurch towards darkness,
Merrily accepting its destiny everyday
Despite being aware of its purpose.

Overhearing those countless words
The nightlong silence carries within,
Striving to retrieve the tales forgone,
Preserving impressions for life.

The wrinkled sheet still loiters around,
As arises the next dawn, tepidly.
A vicious circle follows unconsciously
With a meaning barely imminent...

The Indivisible Thunder...

I swept an optimistic glare across

To find something that I own,

The abundance of tangible stocks,

Only to find it’s just me alone.

Countless arrays of discreet things,

Large and small, living and dead.

But not one could I claim mine,

Before I was urged to step ahead.

Looking up at that indefinite sky

After an arduous consciousness,

I wished for a peace of the blue

That’d walk alongside nevertheless.

“Should I jump extending my arms?”

“Or should I wait for it to descend?”

“Should I divulge what I intend?”

“Or should I wait for it to pretend?”

“Can I ever even be able to touch it?”

“And is it really blue?” I did wonder.

Presuming idly the white responses,

I stirred forth the awaiting thunder.

It’s always been walking alongside

Since I first beheld the glary summit.

I wish I hadn’t feared the unwritten,

I wish I had then ignored my wit...

The Wait...

Wondered why thunder roared after lightening,

A kid, awed by the mystery lines that glowed,

Seeking for an open grave to bury his tiny ears

Dreaded by the inevitable that followed.

Though the spines did announce the ingress,

Fell a breathing statue with clenched fists,

Innocently formulating strategies to deceive

The amorphous beast while it’d exist.

His heart pounded like a little orchestra

After the diverging flashes had faded away,

Presuming it’d swallow the marching band

Before its intrusion as a furious gray.

Swirled his mind benignly, ahead of time,

Trying to weigh the upcoming fate.

Even with the clock steadily walking forth,

Patiently persisted the impatient wait.

The few trembling moments that followed,

Momentarily throttled the air around.

Wished to be a statue, breathless, before

He saw the first drop touching the ground.

The humming fragrance off the moist soil

Made him wish to be breathing again,

To be standing gracefully, to be climbing,

Just to fall again...

Melody or Melancholy?

A clear night sky without a star,

A refreshing wound without a scar,

A distance worth a thousand miles,
Yet a life remains, not so far.

Standing still, but not a ground,
Piercing screams, but not a sound,
Oscillating like an elastic shadow,
Wandering, yet always around.

A stubborn rain, but not a drop,
A restless dream, but not a stop,
Falling steadily into the abyss
From but not a mountain top.

An immortal fire, but not a flame,
An elusive intrusion, but not a blame,
Moments from yesterday frozen still,
A scattering today, but not a claim.

Neck deep flood, but not a smear,
A transparent maze, but not a steer,
A day by and a night nigh,
Divulging every day the piling fear.

An enduring effect without a cause,
An unending song without a pause,
An undefined soul stands beautiful
Despite its countless flaws...

Still alive...

Slanted blue stains it used to leave

At the fairer side of the middle finger,

As words, imprinting memories that’d

Rest indefinitely along age and linger.

As it’d been doing since the past,

Since I’d felt the inevitable bond.

The moment I framed my first grip,

It chose me as does a magic wand.

It’d remained untouched ever since

I left it, crowned, the last day

Before leaving the shore where

I’d moulded my childhood’s clay.

Into the ocean, unknown, unnamed,

As I swirled around an echoing tide,

Being spaced from its bearing words,

The lips of the golden nib dried.

Left behind were stacks of yellow pages,

Emitting the faint familiar fragrance

Off the words that stayed rhyming,

Narrating stories of family and friends.

Picking randomly up some old yellows,

Discerned were some unfinished tales,

Some from the orchard of naked realities

And some from my imaginary sails.

The grip on its silky black body today

Carried me back to our first sights.

Flashes clouded before my eyes of

The late hours of those silent nights.

As the wrinkled piece lies, ensuing

The last left word did the nib strive.

The wet blue stains waved a relief

That it is still alive…

The other side...

On the edge, standing, I look across,
When the twilight`s a little young,
The tremors in the distant skyline,
As clouds fly past with stories unsung.

Beneath the nerves of my trembling legs,
Stands a strong and arrogant raise
Watching quietly all the episodes around
The darkest nights and the brightest days.

I can see lives moving apace along time
And lives, six floors deep down
With eyeballs rolling like petal drops
Just to find, there`s no one around.

Frequent whims of soothing breezes
Briskly follow the lazy afternoon tide.
Gently touching my thumping head,
They allure me towards the other side.

As the saffron of the reminiscent sky
Disappear into shadows of the dark,
It calls out for an enlightening step
Along a direction yet to be marked.

But before I could lift a foot,
Even before making a steady stand,
As if already having a foresight,
She grabs my hand...

The last fall...

Followed a merciless frost after every fall

Leaving awhile the whole tree spineless

As the leaves aloft broke off together

Bequeathing their scions the infinite blue dress.

Flew they all away in different directions

With the winds that they did believe.

Despite being acquainted with the inevitable fates,

Wished that they could never leave.

As time descended a step closer every day,

Urges that were once buried alive, 

Urged to be resurrected from the graves,

Expecting a fair trial or least a single strive.

The day it stopped walking, divulged

The stacks of hazy yet unspoken promises.

Flashbacks clouded the present`s sky

With colours that picture together all the pieces.

Stood there the tree, as the colours faded

Off the rainbow`s strips, white and still,

Before came rushing a timid toed spring

Bargaining hastily with the pertaining chill.

Greens blossomed under the scattered shades,

While the greys laced the tacit concerns,

As summer enlightened the path towards

The echoing tomorrow, waiting for their turns.

‘Twas assumed to have gotten all answers

Witnessing the priors leave, unexplained,

But followed a solitary charade this last fall,

It rained... 

It`s time...

‘How do I break it?’  Asked the little boy

Looking innocently into those old wrinkled eyes,

Carrying around a little grievance, a little joy,

Some little truths and some little lies,

The elderly went happy and fairly amazed

Caressing him with his soft, weak hands,

Out of the window, thoughtfully, he gazed,

A bird flocking some aberrant strands.

Fled she away into that nasty lift

Leaving her spuds behind, she was scared,

Skipping breaths to be alive from the drift

Of red that the wisest kind layered.

Even with the air giving out clear sepulchral

About the storm that did silently await,

Returned she everyday to the vanity central,

The land which had learnt to write its own fate.

Kissed she back before the spawn of dusk,

Before the day she wanted them to learn

The oscillating hue of the waving musk

When she`d fly away never to return.

‘Wish I could unleash everything from the lot

Bound within the knots of these grey hair,’

Held he back within himself, the thought

‘Before the time they stop growing greyer’

Some are yet to be borrowed, some yet to lend

It`s time, when he unwinds the frozen knots

For it`s best to start before the end

‘Blend with words the moment`s thought…’

Anonymous...

How do I breathe today through the storm

Peering since morning at the speechless air?

Wish I could keep my eyes closed forever

But the dreams do slowly disappear.

How do I watch the dawn break, following

A nightlong crash with an enchanting image,

Wondering how after every leaf

Does appear before me the same marked page?

How do I scent today a green bouquet

While I stand stunned past the echoing tense

Since the day the rains hit the ground

Leaving behind an aisle of humming fragrance?

How do I touch with these trembling hands 

The slender sects among the daunting rains,

Wishing them to be the angels of warmth

Over the peaceful frost of broken veins?

How do I voice today the endless affections,

Searching viciously for the ideal words,

Losing slowly the timidly owned calm

As I watch away silently the migrating birds?

Falling immortally into the same void, everyday

My eyes do divulge in a violent rush.

Yet I walk indefinitely over a single string

Being Anonymous...

A million deaths...

As I watch every day rushing away

I find missing a few hundred breaths.

But wonder where my existence belongs.

Is it a single life or a million deaths?

Adrift I used to be afore I fell consciously

For the East that owns that blissful smile,

Where the sun appears anew after a silent night

And every time it makes life worthwhile.

Through the blur of the piling drops

But it is all I wish everyday to see.

I`m terrified to touch it though

As I know it`s heavenly bright for me.

It`s only the time that I`m scared of

When one day amidst another crowd I`d rise

Only to find missing that smile far abode,

While tears envelope my helpless eyes.

And the endless tides of broken breaths

Rebelling against my unconscious veins

Would hail for an enduring scent,

That could take away the recurring pain.

It`s only time that could stitch the scars

Silence is making throughout my nascent heart,

Never been heard beating before,

Nor been seen crying since the very start.

Night would fall as it did after each day

But tomorrow the sun wouldn`t rise again.

My eyes would search indefinitely for the East

Urging the lights back to the old lane.

With each breath mutely passing away

I`d regret this silence every single May.

Even with life trying to keep me alive,

I`d die every day…

Beautifully Imperfect...

Walking above the serene abyss of clouds

Scholarly nesting in an auspicious January sky

Should have but taken me to an enchanted paradise,

Instead I realized I couldn`t fly.

Scouting my way through the atrocious shadows

The cliffs shed immortally on the elevated streets,

I came to sleuth the inclination by my side

To whom even the heavens arched their greets.

The sun kept hiding behind the motionless mist,

A faithful ally, Jealous of her flawless façade

As the disguised elegance she gently exhaled,

Did sprinkle wisdom over the shuddering squad.

The iffy winds whispering throughout the valley

Brought along with them the impending rages.

But the few moments that ruefully followed

Seemed like an era of crawling ages.

A drop suddenly did shine under those infant eyes

Concealed partially by strands of waggling hair.

A wave of charged shiver ran all through me

As I confronted my most unexpected scare.

Whispers slipped out caressing her shaking lips

Into the moist, dissolving into a silent surge.

The drops declined one after the other

Voicing the anger that couldn`t divulge.

But before they could touch her squishy cheeks,

Turning her face around for a little while,

She froze inside her till the next unplanned,

Everything else but the old intoxicating smile.

A fuzzy joy and a prickling pain concurrently

Did arrest me, conspiring with the heart.  

And ever since, they arrest me every time

I do envision her imprecise art.

Beautifully imperfect!

An obscure conscious did quietly glow.

“I never did want to fly after all”,

An epiphany flowed...

Once in a lifetime...

The fourth dimension is running away

And I keep losing every single day.

Only half the loop is left ahead

Before it is too late for something to say.

I wonder if life would be live again

Leaving behind this timeless, sanguine lane.

I wonder if that bleary tomorrow would

Address me indefinitely since as a sane.

The preceding year has left me faded

With no color but the one shaded.

Queerly though but all along the summer,

Arenose and adamant, I`d felt steadily aided.

Through that single shade that kept low

I could see distinctly every color of the rainbow.

Through the yellow`s relentless glow, I could

In my eyes, feel the freezing snow.

Slicing through the December fogs without a pause

Left me betwixt myth and reality past a cause.

Sitting alone in the dark often I did wonder

If I could alter the inevitably boundless laws.

Be it the blistering heat or the freezing feet,

Amidst the fragrance of the lightly damped streets,

With the arrival of the tempting eastern breeze,

Every time I could hear the crescent heart beats.

The once utterly obscure, gradually went prime

As I found myself in my own revering shrine.

Only then did I realize what had happened,

Happens once, once in a lifetime…

Illusions...

There`d been a series of long sleepless nights
Each with an aberrant story trailing the former
But watching out wide through those night skies
Dragged me each time a little more towards her

Never had I before heard the silence talking
To the empty fields and the mellow breeze
Nor had I ever seen the street lights glittering
With the scariest shadows under the gregarious trees

The benevolent moon and the glorious stars kept smiling
That every hour dreaded as every moment would pass.
And the night centered by countless felicitous vibes
Evenly feared its fate eventually towards the edge, alas.

For the time`s sake I did beg to my unquenched eyes
To halt the vagrant search for a while
But they kept still throughout my repetitive urges
Chasing the face holding that precious smile.

It was not before tonight when I decided
To challenge the existence of my illogical beliefs,
The impulsive and inclined illusions,
The biased life as of a fallen leaf.

It was not before tonight when I learnt
To befool the heart with these foreseen delusions
It`d now went quite transparent that
It was impossible to avoid her enduring intrusions

The scented illusions gave me their final touch,
Pillowing her virtual lap left behind the real pain
Everything went blank for a moment when the eyes rested
Before they appeared again…

The Window...

The only window in my room smiling towards the orient

Took me towards the peerless artistry outside.

In an attempt to reveal the most abstruse,

I did weigh everything around that I eyed.

Hollow nights silently graved away one after the other

With a hope that dawn would fetch the holy showers.

It did welcome the moment graciously,

Leaving behind the surreptitious witching hours.

There did come with the arrival of each sun,

The blissful belief in this cataclysmic prankish mind.

Watching the beatific shades flying in the morning sky,

Everyday did I wander about what I might find

Birds passed by in exhilarating patterns across the horizon,

Some towards the infinite glow and some conversely,

Some did sit by the pane talking in elegantly sharp phones

And some to my surprise came inside deliberately.

They`d pick their favorite spots about the scentless hold,

They`d scroll the eyes around as if they could sense the scopes,

They`d fly their ways out as the sun did lose its delirium

And they`d come back again to challenge all my virtual hopes.

There did come a day when came a distorted wind

Chasing an enchanted intangible aura from the north

That stamped it strong with an agonistic, rude temper

Causing it to tremble furiously back and forth.

A storm followed next, intruding right inside my chamber

Thawing everything that took a stand in its way.

The hours passed in such a hurry that I couldn`t see

That the fliers were ceasing to stay .

The breaths I took went heavier, deeper and colder,

I could feel the vibes around, saturated with silent screams.

I wondered whether this was life

Or was I living an ineffable dream.

The only window in my room smiling towards the orient

Started seeking for the elixir from the yellow sun,

Suddenly when I realized it being inertly closed

And me standing still facing a bright white pigeon...

It`s when...

It`s when you don`t know what to say,

`Cause it`s quite novel to you as well.

It`s when you don`t know whom to say,

`Cause there was no one around when you fell.

It`s when you stuff the pillow into your mouth,

You don`t want the sounds to leave your larynx.

It`s when you grab the sheets, fisting hard

Apprehending that it would alleviate your enduring shiverings.

It`s when you want to be shadowed all the time,

The lights connote the presence you`d gravely armor.

It`s when even a niggling tickle on the door

Would suggest that some soul might have felt the tremor.

It`s when you don`t care about your leaking nose,

Pursuing optimism when there`s nothing else for you to see.

It`s when you fold yourself into an earthworm

Seeking aegis, your forehead touching your knee

It`s when you find your lips unable to utter a single word

But it seems to be the least of all concerns.

It`s when you start believing the fictitious poetic verses

Depicting the wordless pain and the timeless heart-burns.

It`s when your eyes start speaking for you,

Speaking only the truth and not what you want them to.

It`s when the streaming drops seem to be eternal

Enough to wash away the amassing pile of vibes off you.

It`s when you want to live and concurrently die

Hoping your soul to stay and coincidently depart.

It`s when you know how it feels to inanely carry

A heavy heart…

It was hard...

It was hard to see him suffer and yet the worse,

I didn`t know what to talk, how to walk about.

All the time he showed his teeth through the concaved lips,

He talked very little; but the words were `bout to sprout.

He was there `cause she was performing

But she never knew what happened that night,

When we all were busy hunting down the staged females

Sitting among the howling crowd in the dim light.

He always have had this brittle crunch

But ne`er did anyone witness against his finest melody.

Despite all the cacophonous echoes, sitting at his elbow

Got me encountered with his divulged melancholy.

I sought for a drop of rigmarole on his surface

But he sat there idle with a frozen spine,

With the galloping time, held his conscience intact

But the tears eventually spoke from within the shrine.

There she came, dancing boisterously the open stage,

Springing with a felicitous smirk inside her golden hoop.

When she gave her assent to fall in his arms,

The drops desired to emerge out from the vicious loop.

We kept shouting her name into his ears

But nobody did realize that he`d gone numb.

Till the few final minutes he encumbered the grief,

Just refused to break before a group of scum.

They seemed to be the four most merciless minutes,

When alone he endured all the catastrophic pain.

The eyes had started consoling that broken heart,

When she among the crude crew, appeared again.

She was a deceptive destiny and there wasn`t a path,

But he waited long and searched for a scout.

But it was hard to see him suffer and yet the worse,

I didn`t know what to talk, how to walk about...

The Last Breathe...

The first drop kissed my nose,

I was painting the town of my solitary chimera.

I looked up at the infinite azure, I saw an other,

preceding the avalanche towards my bare forehead.

I wondered how, I wondered why

this serene incessant erstwhile turn suddenly

into an iniquitous, ebullient author

of a malignant physical spirit?

The envision was affronted between the eyes,

as The fracas in the airs around hit my ears,

hard enough to slash me for a while

from the rest of my naïve illusions.

The idle senses sprouted back into the nescient pursuit

of elucidating my recent petition,

when they graded the occluding cognizance,

dusting towards their permanent paralysis.

Swirling around like bubbles, like the million bubbles

were people, some scuffling hard, some flowing still.

Souls seemed to glitter away from these vicious loops

and the blues seemed like the intimate medium.

The eyes wished to witness more, the perception

being conveyed, before they went to their final sleep.

The heart wished for one last beat,

before I took my last breath.

I think of you...

Every time, when the sun smiles at the earth,

I think of you.

Every time, when the wind does dance around,

I think of you.

It didn`t happen at the first sight

But sure did I see a bright light.

With the time waving away, as do t see,

You belong to a so different league.

Every time, when the stars blink to the earth,

I think of you.

Every time, when there is a thunder sound,

I think of you.

Some words might never be spoken,

‘The phrase’ might never be broken.

But every time I`d look around,

I`d find myself on the ground.

Every time, when the clouds have drops to cue,

I think of you.

Every time, when the flowers kiss the autumn hue,

I think of you.

You might never find out this,

That you`ll always be my luckiest bliss.

The way you are, you blow life into my core,

There`s nothing that I demand more.

Every time, when I walk down the empty streets,

I think of you.

Every time, when the heart does need a boon,

I think of you.

The spaces might grow to miles away,

The faces might blur with the years to lay.

But there`d be one for me to bless,

Whether there were a breath more or less.

Somewhere, someday, if at any turn

You find yourself confused and alone,

Remember there`s one standing all along,

Standing there just for you.

My little "Grasshopper"...

You made me cry, you made me laugh,

You filled your eyes on my behalf,

You made me love, you made me hate,

You came to life to change my fate.

I saw you grow, I saw you fro,

I saw you bite your little toe,

I saw you scream, I saw you dream,

I saw you drain down all the cream.

You made the dolls, you made the calls,

You made me buy from your fancy stalls,

You sat by me when I got ill,

You pricked me every time against my will.

You jumped around, you jumped so sound,

The more you moved then made me ground.

On the rainy days you seemed popper,

I then called you my little "grasshopper".

You stole the sweets, I knew the deeds,

You made me trust your founded creeds.

You grew so fast since your lowest class,

You made some friends and had a blast.

You read some books, you took some notes,

I was always around to make some quotes.

You read so well, you read in stealth,

You ended up making your own wealth.

For the mother`s pride you went away,

I felt so damp that I couldn`t say,

“Every moment, every second, I wished to see

The beautiful thing ever happened to me”.

We meet today, we meet to pray,

I`ve still got things a lot to say.

You`ve given me a new crawler,

You still are my little "grasshopper".