Battling life

With just a few steps ahead, it would be easier to die,

when all lifelong I have walked, only struggling to survive.

This world is a paradise to sing and rejoice,

only to those who have been lucky, and have had their choice.

Among the few in denial, are many like me,

fighting with thy soul, while losing repeatedly.

With air aplenty at home, forever I could breathe,

in dearth of a purpose though, Iam living in exile within me.

During the darkest of nights, it’s been the candle and the lonely me,

with both sans the desire, every night now is hard to see.

The echoes of the past are plenty to be found,

with none to deny them, they have fairly lazed sound.

The silence in my cries is the quietest of the lot,

while the clock ticking on our wall is the loudest of us all.

Though the only one at my place, with a little flesh and feel,

irony it is , they have all lived a life,

and even without a start, I decide to depart.

Making Love

I wonder what the worlds made of,

without love, it would’ve just been a flowerless park.

When he met her, they started to talk,

not knowing when, it happened and their hands crossed during long walks.

He was on a rampage, to find her a gift,

which no lover in the world, knew it ever did exist.

With words so many, he found an ear in her,

for once he choked, when he held a rose in fear.

She sought some time to grow mature,

but the heart in her yearned for the rose.

When words failed her, she held him near,

with eyes tight shut, their lips found ways to each other.

Love blessed them, a lifetime together,

with their lips still wet, by the kiss back then.

For once she felt, shyness in herself,

and when the lights went dark, their romance saw its best.

The moon stood a witness, to their enduring love,

envied them all along, and rued to be all alone.

Now I wonder what the worlds made of,

without love, you and me would have been dead so long ago.

Walking along

It is an every other Sunday,
Why should I wake up,
When it’s the only day, I can dream of her all day,
when I can revisit those long forgotten joyous days.

It was an every other Sunday,
Until they realized it was Valentine’s Day.
I shrugged not to bother, until,
When the lights went off, I unceasingly wept and wept,
when my hands got tired wiping the tears away.

It was an every other Sunday,
until the door bell rang.
A gorgeous lady with desperately waiting flowers, on seeing me said,
“Oh! Sorry, to have pressed the wrong bell. Besides, have a good day”.

It was an every other Sunday,
when I had the phone charged all day.
Hoping she would call,
I helplessly watched the minutes turn hours, to be a very soon Monday.

Unlike all other Sundays,
today I look back too far,
when once fear and sweat, had reigned my blood,
heart and thoughts in unison had said, “My love”,
to someone, whose absence this moment is the way of life today.
Whose absence since then has kept my smiles miles away.

Writing heals !!!

Beauty of poetry lies in the heart,

mistaken are many, it’s not an art.

Hours long that you cry, if you could write,

tears would dry, before your eyes realize.

Moments that you smile, if you can inscribe,

It’ll cease to exist, not after you even die.

In your pen lies some peace,

once into words, the pain will freeze.

Out in the dark take a walk,

look up the sky and the moon will talk.

Find some grass behind some wood,

decide to be alone, but not to cry.

Watch your clock all night long,

wait to smile, it won’t take long.

Look for a soul, whose warmth consoles,

read what you wrote, and seal the joy that unfolds.

Carry the paper, carry the pen,

if you forget to smile, then it’s time to write !!!

Carry the smile, carry your life,

if you forget to cry, you might just be right !!!

Soulful thoughts in a lonely heart

It’s been a while and I miss you dear,

It’s been a while since I let anyone near.

It’s been so long that I picked a flower,

It’s been so long that I sang during a morning shower.

It looked like dew, for a moment was it you,

It looked so beautiful, but never prettier than you.

In the muddy murky water, I looked for the azure skies,

If it wasn’t to be blue, why cast the blame on me and you.

The stream by the roadside was struggling for a path,

It was lucky to seep through, and I have been trying so hard.

Iam lost looking within, where else would I go,

ahead lies life, that I pretend not to know.

I bowed before the birds, to chirp a little sweeter,

I pleaded with the roses to hold their dew little longer.

I prayed for a serene morning, greener than ever it had to offer,

to help me put to rest this poem, without having to wander any farther.

Motherly moments

She wailed and cried, through agony and pain,

yet, pulled him out to feel his heart beat and veins.

In disbelief she froze, cherishing his cries,

a ‘Mother’ just in, a while it took her to realize.

Out of her womb, he cuddled in her arms,

with shivers in the spine, her palms grew warm.

His fingers so tiny, soothing was her face,

he walked across it, leaving behind an angelic trace.

He shrieked in hunger, how would she know?

For a mother she has been, never before.

She fed him from her heart, shying from the world,

he chuckled in delight, when the milk mixed with her tears.

Heaven made way, by the bedside was god,

never to be noticed, today her baby to her was beyond all.

As a son I write, with my mom beside,

these words so true, cause I could see it in her eyes all through.

In search of you, my smile

A smile that I lost a few years back, was ever lost,

until my teeth spotted it two days back.

In pretence I have smiled, at debts borrowed a few,

None of them my very own, I still smiled, and within was a ‘phew’.

Iam not a loner, never been one,

Felt all alone, when she left me stunned.

Should I search for her or my smile?

Wish both were the same, to save me this pain.

Like a new born I cry and none know why,

with no words at my dispense, my tears help me write.

All who read, sing praises for my art,

they call me a poet, when Iam just a writer in distraught.

Desperate Iam not, though my cheeks and chin are,

this poem is a consolation,

cause the smile that kissed my teeth,

vanished before even it could reach my cheeks.

My lady love

The sun is up early to brighten your face,

and the creepers green for you to breath clean.

The storm abates until you pass by,

while the sand softens to cushion your feet.

The river stays still till you dip out wet,

and the roses instead have shed their red,

my lady , they know you are pained in seeing blood.

Finally when sleep hovers around,

the moon is smeared with darkness.

With nothing bright around to disturb you sleep,

and with my messengers of love always at your feet,

from the moment you rise till that you sleep ,

Iam here at peace , resting,

beneath our dried backyard leaves.

Tribute

Poets never die, poems never die.

The pen never rusts, so doesn’t the mind.

Together we flock, together we boast,

of this incredible find,

poem.

When I told her

Clasped in harmony I held her hand,

In search of destiny, early to seek.

Meters in hand, a few strides in walk,

alongside the rumbling rails that witnessed our love.

Why this day? Why this place?

If not now, would it be too late?

An urge within endorsed my yearn,

to speak my heart to my counterpart,

still hand in hand.

Though not my words, but my fidgeting hands,

and the nervous sweat let her sense my hand in hers.

Could I have ever framed those cherished moments,

In a phrase so terse,

 a tyro when he is, a lover’s curse.

Though I not green, she sans pink,

neither eyes blinked to lose a second over a wink.

‘Yes’ would spell snow and ‘no’ would leave me all alone,

Either one imminent though.

Wasn’t sunny then, yet a shade she had offered,

 ‘Yes’ in disguise, she phrased that I had so long delayed.

Was it me, was it her,

A night of illusion it wasn’t for sure.

Still hand in hand,

When mom said, wake up son.

Had you slept hands crossed all night?

A dream, it wasn’t for sure,

cause the pen I hold, It’s still her hand. 

Morning, not again

Cuddled in comfort, I yawn so wide,

that a dentist with his tools will merry inside.

Unwilling to part, my eyelids hold tight,

I promise them a reunion as soon as its night.

I reach for him to slit his throat,

still,  he manages to snooze with his funny nose.

I wiggle in bed to stand my sleep in good stead,

soon after the tussle, the bed seems to have borne a night of romance instead.

O ‘ its morning, shrieks my skin,

with complaints aloud and curses unheard,

I walk it to the shower without its asking.

Knob turns left for hot and right for cold,

hold it to the center to stay dry a little longer.

The inevitable happens as the water pours,

and I begin to sing my reserved morning scores.

After the battle I step aside, to wipe those drops that prick alike.

I wonder, if tomorrow god was to be kind and dearer,

Let me remain clean and fresh to escape this morning terror, ‘shower’. 

On my way back home

The warmth within was melting my pain,

my eyes alone a victim, with tears unrestrained.

With the furnace at home feeding the tears,

my memories of her would I let go, in the heat of this soulless fire.

Battering the cold, Iam out in the woods.

Looking for a bark that’s lonely like me,

I envied those trees which held on to their leaves.

The dried ones under my feet longed for a burial,

I stepped over each of them, catering to their desire.

Few green alike were still dangling in the breeze,

unwilling to desiccate, how they wished they could trace back their bliss.

Atop a distant hill was one lonely tree,

swaying in solitude with none in the vicinity, he was calling out for a shoulder in me.

At the doorstep of freedom, my tears lay frozen,

with a little  more warmth, destiny would’ve had the hill more closer.

I stopped to realize, I wasn’t going to die,

until I embrace back my love, I wouldn’t let my love leaves dry.

On my way back home, I borrowed a few smiles,

Promising to return them back,

when my lovely love returns to gift me back ‘my smile’.

Words that propose love

You never came to live, you never left to stay,
still you leave an impact, and that's me to the world today.
Did you like me, yes, you do still,
and me, as always, I will.
More than a friend, you are a phenomenon,
mightier than any mortal, you are a feeling.
Always with me, not beside but within,
you aren't a trend, but a phase of my life.
If all I have written is dramatic, than I am only being modest,
'cause what you are to me, is still not discussed.
Yes, an indelible asset.
This ink might blot, the paper may crumble,
but my 'friend', to me, would remain eternal.

Smitten by love

Years it might take to bring about a change,

years it might take to realize, to repent,

it just took me a while to feel sorry,

cause, if at all there is tomorrow,

I din’t want to be one of your worries.

Years it might take to see the differences,

a little longer to be indifferent,

it just took me a while to see the gap,

cause, if at all there was a future,

I believed our love will eternally overlap.

Years it takes to cement the trust,

years it takes to exhibit the zest,

what does it take to see through the rest,

if at all love,

I have loads for you, to see us through.

Years its been,

since then I have loved none, but you,

years ago I loved myself, not anymore without you,

forever I should live, to treasure our love,

an orphan it is now without me and you.

Life

24 today, I write of life,

little I have seen, to claim this opine,

life ahead, is a slave of destiny,

the journey so far, life, a blessing than any.

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Parents to us, are Adam and Eve,

symbol of their love is you and me.

To see us smile, they stretch a mile,

to absorb our tears, our burden they buy.

Piles of worries droop their shoulders,

still, as we lean, they gleam, robustly beam.

Often when we chide, they act so numb,

our innocence they perceive, wipes their frown.

Our dream, our desires, an expensive quest,

through the tunnel, for a light, their sacrifices they hide.

In money we swell, in might we dwell,

with nurtured wings, swiftly we fly.

Black it was, now grey, their hair,

moments of your success, they cherish with pride.

Never will they ask, for your love and care,

today on, let them be your kids, parent this divine pair.

While it was a storm

While it was a storm, I took her hand,

holding tight, I promised I’ll be along.

Why not a walk when the day was calm,

my answers lie in the storm, in the walk along.

Every speck of sand that blew, rubbed me hard.

The gushing winds jeered and mocked.

Draped by me, she wondered,

why my aegis, why my clout.

Hadn’t she a clue, of the bulging storm,

in spite of her suffocation, I held her tightly in my palm.

In a tussle amongst interest and interference,

my angel, thought Iam the latter,

when still, my answers lie in the storm, in the walk along.

Ripping below, uprooting around, merciless was the storm,

she was safe, but her tempers warm.

Still hand in hand, when she said,

blame the water, blame the sand,

castles on the shore, weren’t to stand.

Shattered a million, I walked along,

few tears that rolled, were robbed by the storm.

Still hand in hand.

Kissing us goodbye, it blessed us with calm,

I eased my palm, to realize,

with the storm, she too was gone.

Never to return, to listen,

what I had to say after the storm.

In love I succeeded, only to lose her,

In love I failed, only to lose her,

always a paradox,

Iam still writing.

I believe I can win

Once a toddler, one day I started walking, I won then.

In love for a candy, I once stole a penny,

sweeter than the candy, was my confession to my dad, I won then.

Overcoming fear, I jumped into the water,

suddenly I found myself swimming, I won then.

Once a loner, one day I made friends, I won then.

Someday, when people mocked at me, I laughed with them, I won then.

While running a marathon, I was a mile behind the slowest,

Though the last to attain glory, I still won then.

One night with tears rolling, I thought to myself,

Still there is morning, tomorrow,

Before it even dawned, I found myself smiling again, I won then.

One Monday at work, I got yelled at,

Before it was evening, I got my paycheck,

With the job not done yet,

They said, we believe in your persistence,

We believe that you’ll light Tuesday up, I won then.

If winning is impossible, I still believe I can win,

if winning is only for the privileged, I still believe I can win,

howsoever big my failures were, I was learning,

howsoever trivial my successes, I kept winning,

if Iam born for a purpose, I believe the purpose is, ‘Winning’.