:exactly:
Growing up gradually to become realistic and strong keeping head high with patched-up heart or not!
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:exactly:
Growing up gradually to become realistic and strong keeping head high with patched-up heart or not!
where does the weary wind go?
it seeps into the hearts
of the woed.
there it rustles
and stirs
up the tendrils
of hope.
it blinds the eyes
that see no future.
it breathes life
into the lives
that desire
no being.
its fingers trace
upon a teary face
the long forgotten
caresses
of a loved one
lost in waiting.
gather the visions, that have not come true
do not let them scatter
they will only sneak in later
ready to inflate and flatter
what is not possible.
gather the dreams, all broken and torn
do not let them fly
they will only land later
and once again pry.
gather the lies, all found and spoken
do not let even one survive
they will only bleed in later
ready to further deprive.
gather all the loves forsaken
do not let them stay
they will only linger and linger
waiting to betray.
Truly blue bliss!?
Actually PP Maam that's not a link to this thread, rather it's a gallery of RadhaKrishna art that I have been collecting.Quote:
Originally Posted by pavalamani pragasam
heart rushing
mouth dry
fingers numb
and blaming
no one but
myself
what have i done?
why have i forgotten?
such a simple thing!
heart rushing
eyes shut in fustration
hands clenched in anger
and blaming
everything and
anything
why me?
why have I been forgotten?
such a misery!
heart rushing
feet light as air
no one to blame
who has not seen me through all this?
why have I not realized this before?
such a blissful mystery!
I remember you only when I need you
with one moment cursing myself
the other moment begging for your reassurance
some comfort, some chance, some hope
pleading for it all to be alright
berating your creations
asking you to see the injustice
asking you to intervene
asking you to hear me out
and somehow...when things turn out right
forgetting you...shamefully renouncing you
and all that you have done for me
with silence.
:cheer: :cheer: :cheer: happy birthday to the thread-owner :)
i know i haven't visited for a long time...and now lo and behold i am to teach a bunch of rambunctious eleven-year-olds...poetry!
besides that my muse has a very bad habit of only peeking in on me when I am all a mess and entangled in emotions...woe is me :P
and so for old time's sake before being sucked back to planning academia:
a small whim of a poem.
pendulum
to and fro
to and fro
along with the
beats of a heart
in throes
of wandering woe
pendulum
to and fro
to and fro
tapping along
the life time that
ticks me by
before my very eyes
pendulum
to and fro
to and fro
stopping quite still
to only mock
your dullish gold face
smirking away at my
misty-headed misery
what do i wait for
what do i know
what will do i see
from now till when?
why have the idyllic circles
of life wound all around me
but have only left me
ensnared in its
mess of doubts
when does realisation arise
shiny, happy, pure
coming at a charging speed
to hear me chide its tardiness
to set my heart at peace
to let my what ifs, whens,
who and hows cease
it's quite unfair
i'm two for two
the less you know
the less you do not explore
the better it is for me
to leave it all behind
and have the chance
to change direction
it's quite unfair
i'm dreading a vengeful three
the less you know
the less you will have to deplore
the better it is for me
to finally stumble and stop
and for goodness sake
not into myriad pieces
break!
reminds me of my pendulum wall-clock, queri ... but never did it occur to me to write a poem like yours :) :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Querida
:thumbsup:Quote:
Originally Posted by Querida
Continuing on the same metaphysical, melancholic line! But simple and beautiful which is poetry! :2thumbsup:
sometimes doubt
and i collude
that maybe
may meet
certain.
that is all the
consequence
that you can
expect for now.
sooner and later
often don't see
each other
but they know
they will meet
on one occasion
that is bound to happen.
Thrills and trepidations of expectation!
this is why realization
often scoffs:
because unaware are
the smart
until it smarts...
unbeknownst to knowledge
dallies hope, luck and dream
and when they each have their chance
knowledge congratulates experience
and fate intervenes
to say "I told you so".
this is why realization
often scoffs:
because memory is treacherous
it only hopes to add
re-collect its causes
effects are not in its care.
Muse: "Ninaikka Therindha Maname"
Ruthful!
Thank you PP Maam for your prompt and succinct reactions :)
bittersweet
a fitful
taste
an ever changing face
ever at a stop and start evolving pace
a back and forth of past and present
of regret and attempts at renewal
of new salt on old wounds
of fear forgot and fear anew
sweetly bitter truths
that sting and soothe
and scar no less.
Having heard
its new name
a little wound one
excitedly
jittered
within her
inner sanctum
time would make its
form and name true
but her voice
whispered...
hotly, insisted...
"they will have flown
and I will only
hear the wind a-lowing"
within itself its slowed
heart beat fevered.
the colours swirled
yet did not settle.
the tendrils braced
but did not spread.
the silk unfurled
but lay tattered.
and out of the
chrysalis came,
the one seeking
her name,
and heard only
the flutter-flutter of
surrounding
wings.
vulnerability
comes in glimpses
down the drain
with the suds
off it rinses
no one peers
into a soul
without paying
an equal toll
eyes may water
eyes may tear
but for want of
or lack of
fear...
lips are sealed.
"Is it for me?"
Darling,
I would never write for you...
You never let me in.
Our souls never touched.
We never held on
as if
we would
die
letting go.
each others' hearts
half empty
to the brim never filled.
but Querido I write for...
long forgotten days
and oft wasted hours...
I am still his.
I still am the pin
in his heart
that I push in.
Within my heart
he still carves,
his mincing words
he silently
whittles in.
loved and hated
a bond never sated.
I hated him for letting love go...
He loved the hate that
hid his woes.
:bow:Quote:
Originally Posted by Querida
sweet tortures.Quote:
Originally Posted by Querida
nah..."torture" still doesnt justify. Its much more...eh.
nice ones Q! Long time...
:clap:
Thank you Shakthi! :D
I look forward to your responses always...
Yes I missed posting poems...to the point when reading over what I wrote in the past...it seemed to be written by a totally different person...
and I started again doing what I loathe...dismissing words coming together because of "busyness"
the eyes are upon me
questioning...
curiosity mews somewhere...
seeking an answer
and though I look away
I can tell...no see...and hear...and just feel the...
[...tic/tic/tic...tic/tic/tic...]
of the gears turning...
The eyes are upon me
lit up with intrigue.
the lady doth protest too much...
she thinks, he thinks, they thinks
who wants what me thinks?
where is the
meek little leak
of what really is going on...?
Q, your poetic soliloquies have a unique quality of imagination, word play and poignancy! Good!
:ty: PP Maam ...I have to admit I do always strive for uniqueness and I've always had a weakness for word play and alliteration :)
it's only the winding wind
that follows the Sindh
like weaving twine
all through the pind
looking for its
mighty kin,
its
tributary twin.
where their
paths align
and interwine
rough and wavy
trickling and thin
knowing
that wherein
there is din
there are certainly
water-needing deni-zens
running along its
splashing shoreline
beguiled by its ripples benign
it returns to where
the crashing waves
begin, began and rush ever towards time.
Deep imagery!
fishing for an answer
with no bait in sight
casting with a dream
and reeling in a
catch of reality.
Wow!
Thanx Maam :D , thought I'd continue with the theme but that one verse seemed so much better off on its own, so left it as it was.
awaiting to be lit
to hear the
scratch and sizzle
a little candy striped
candle
lingered with
waxy unconcern.
year after year,
it was used,
its companions,
increasing.
one by one,
each blown out,
by the birthday child
(or hurriedly puffed out
by their naughty siblings).
each year the child loomed
tallishly over them.
a spittle-charged pfffft!
became an expertly blown poof.
rolling languidly out of their box
stretching their bent wicks
wondering:
pattern or circle?
sparkler or nume-ral candle?
ice cream or safely mooring butter-cream?
much to their surprised dismay...
only one was taken,
only one was lit,
another grabbed
but
then left stranded on the counter.
yet the huddle
heartily chanted
past ten..
between two manicured nails
the only one
was fizzled out
and
swiftly tossed aside.
the box
and its lacquered ones
gathered up
and put aways
for another year
and another one
if any
Time and tide wait for no man!
it was then i realized
how wary you are of me...
the outside world
was too caught up
in its
tossing and turning
whirling and churning
the suspended droplets
swam hurriedly into rivulets
many arms
tossed between them
a head
many arms
held a woman
possessed
and so the shadow play of the wind persisted
the trees erratically moving to a music
not heard but seen
in that frenzied chill
of time
Sleep escaped
and Peace retreated
and Thought
imagined
things that
had yet to
happen
but determined
that they would.
whirlwind of emotions!
With any other person
my haughtiness would flare
my dignity would prevail
the dulling of your countenance
the irritated spark in your eyes
the downward turn of your mouth
would be enough
for me to turn away
if you were any other person...
i wouldn't try to meet your eyes
i wouldn't stop to ask why?
my days would not be filled
with silent chiding and sighs
I should be done
I should be through
but instead i wait upon
time and reason
to do what
subtle
subjectivity
fails to do
but does anyways.
Age-old mystery!!!
Si Sólo Supieras...*
It sparkles when spat on
It glimmers when wept on
If it ever was to...
It would only bleed dust
*(Spanish): If you only knew