The revered God of odds

I don’t know why I keep coming back and reading this one, maybe because it makes me feel both oblivious and related to the pains of past. 🙂

inapoem

This is a call to create me because I don’t exist

and seeing my life I think I may be the one

who walks past the dreams and desires

skillfully in a bliss remembering the odds on how these existed without the pain

but then I am proved right soon

leading me to think I created them

but if history of people would talk they would have the same walk

still I am blamed not to live through it with patience

and patience they say some don’t realise they already have it as a character

while those who don’t are often seen demanding it

I am familiar with this cycle

but I am in the odd

with about everything

and the slipping society

who will soon think of me

as a non conformist

and while they don’t know what they are conforming to

I have to mix in a haste

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Unrequited Love

So many of us make it a task to not fail, but at all wrong places and for all wrong reasons, reasons that we may not even recognise, reasons that are so deeply rooted that we have no idea what we are doing thinking it is love or the person we want is the only one for us. STOP. PAUSE. Love again if you want but STOP with that person. It is almost an obsession which doesn’t bring any output. This poem captures the essence of that feeling when your love is not being recognised or respected.

I cannot turn me
anymore,
without turning to you.
you know
how far you go,
In a distance that time breaks
turning my darkness
to grey,
you are my light.

But I can only burn me,
all the while
pretending,
that it is alright.

A day is but a day,
that must become night,
whether it wills it,
Or not
and the sun must burn
the lotuses must wake,
And among it all,
unassumingly,
The earth,
each moment will have to take a call
and love unrequited,
doesn’t have to endure it all..

Old with time for youth..

Hi Everyone.

I am not verbose on the blog and I just post poems when I feel like sharing. This time it has been long since I last posted but now getting back to it. Just felt like writing this note to tell how in the last year where I have gone through thousands of storms this blog, the sharing and your comments have time and again come to my rescue. I just want to wish everyone peace in whatever they are dealing with and that we should keep expressing. Our souls have no barriers and I am thankful for the internet 🙂

This poem stemmed from a thought while just walking on the street. I saw group of old people and myself and just was trying to think what an old person would worry about and what they would be thinking about the choices they may make about people or things they may have wanted in there life. The process of growing up is happening so subtly but so directly that we think it’s pain or yearning or achievement or failures, while so much is happening we still think that we are left behind and are in such hurry to live that we don’t recognise that living is not in age or achievements but it is always a direct result of our own thoughts and the actions we take to satisfy those thoughts..just that..

Most people kill to die
some would die but not kill
some talk
some spill
How to gift a rose without cutting its stem?
maybe
by gifting a plant
but there are hassles in growing up
Who would want?
The old walk
toe to toe
hand in motion
just as doctor said
no curiosity
we are all one less then the allowed chance
but age helps
bills and hearts
everything bulging was taken care of
no refuge left to take
love career body parts
everything is now together
no matter how much it were apart
But there is still time left for me
I have this youth
and years for free
Though there is nothing left unsaid
pain memory love hope regret
but still I have to churn out more
I am not settled
that’s the lore
come wish me luck
people say
I will have to live a little more.

Water & Roots

Smooth and clogged
thousands of me
meet and become my roots
these stems outgrow me
and towards those billions of light
but I don’t reach the sun the moon the tavern of the hut across the river
I can’t swim
I grow
but to float
waters of woo and lights of heaven
grounds fasten in changing tides
I have a life
I have a fear
I have a hope
I have a tear
I know everything I can reach
I have roots
I wish to keep.

a infinite task

I zero one down to
two and then to
three and four..
create infinity.
speechless, with infinite sounds
I utter nobody’s
the basic fundamentals
find and kill rudimentary emotions
so that judging cowards can cry peace
they like each other
and break me free
on the leash.
the river flows of my destiny
going forwards
it takes me back
I seek I keep I repeat
the uncounted unuttered inexistent numbs
count me
and I count it to thee.
then I say four three two one..
it’s fatal to try and
reverse infinity.

Relationships

IMG_6653

It is a dirty case of cleaned glasses
aged with the eyes which saw through
to see dust sitting on the window
where crows were cawing until the flesh loosens
and legs spread
we come down to heights
philosophy lost to the likes
surrendering to monotony of mutual rights.

the air comes between us and space
when we recreate ourselves
and our rusty past
it shakes the distance
we covered to last
we create from sun and feed it to moon
our dreams to our youth
once more lot of ground to cover
lot to ignore
glassened hardened fastened
our eyes to our shattered core.

Mirror Meditates

Through the broken glass of a shaken house
paradigms shift to let in the light
when and how much
too hard to decide

reflecting in the angle it was set in
traversing the light
shining on things as they were thrown
Mirror Meditates
to change angles.

shadowed on
horizons of reflection
it’s a straight image
hiding the streets
vision fails to intrude.

I sit and call for purpose in pain
confidence in vain
and wisdom in shame
light strives to direct reflection
I get back
whatever I ask for
it doesn’t go sideways
there are few things I would rather not say
it’s my own mirror
it ignores my ways.

changes in surface
go on to imbibe
Convex
Concave
what kind of darkness it is
I have to decide
under spell of my own ways
expand out
look inside
I change my mirror
Cant change my sight.

Common Single Disease

I kill the cradle
and ancestors of the wild being in me
call me to end an era
of everything
with wilderness humanity will go
without desire the senses
with numbers the age
without sound your name
with death the pain
the dents of history will call for
another life to suffer
I will again rush to offer
another death in another life
another wisdom in another knife
another love in another life
wheel reinvents itself
and history is new
past kills itself
in between the time gasps
present perfect is continuous till
infinity dies again to be renewed.
———————————
You are my infinity
will you die early or slow?
rotting or in a blow?
will you kill me before slowing down?
or slow down to kill?
———————————
And then when your cradle kills me
my ancestors will call
the numerous me
and the numerous them
we will kill the misery of repeating history
mellow ourselves down
leaves will hustle
we will ignore the infinity in us
and will die in peace
cured in death of
a common single disease.

Body.

I always feel
I always go numb
on how these men
see my parts apart

the bulging breasts
the luscious thighs
the arse high

and then I bathe
unimportantly
alone
my body is not conscious
no eyes that roam

top to bottom
bottom to top
bosom to hips
vagina to lips
men know what they want
the body feels their hunger on

parts of it don’t feel home
eyes roam
dissect me part by part
I breathe in
breathe out
breathe in
breathe out
life bursts
and all goes down

bubbles of my body
and graves of men
death asks me to tell them apart
who to choose
who to spare
as if skeletons care.

FLOWERS & RINGS & LOVE

I know people
and they tell
they know me
this time it will be different
my grave will not be lonely
they will bring me
flowers and love
decide if I am rotten enough
kiss me or bid me luck.

I will know soon if
a new message I will have to inscribe
one more grave then
to kill and hide
there is blood on my lips
and dirt on the hands
again the silent trance
and hunger pangs
punch me
to vomit it all out
I have again eaten
my insides out.

Each time I dig a new grave
and fill new crowd
bodies on bodies
crying out loud
warned to lie still
sometimes they wriggle
trying to climb uphill
they hold my spine tight
and try to break me
to be their light
and I gasp for air
to loose this sight
their versions I keep
but I let them slide
every new man
pulls me down
questions ways of my heart
on me he frowns.

And You
I have seen you before
when gardens were lush green
you were like a purpose
that has dreams
while I try to see you differently
you come using the same means
you don’t know how you bring
the same scenes
of us
drinking the blood
being both hungry
and half filled
the continuously rekindling love
in unkindled will
I cannot help but still hear
in this closeness
the echo of dead screams
going in same vicious circles
of flowers and rings.