There are holes in the window,
Its winter again,
The winds blow and bring in the blast of heatless breath.
Howcome,the blankets have lost their warmth?
Why have the fire lost its heat?
Where have those days gone?
When I would have all of it?
The warmth ,the heat and the dust
Of the sunny morns and windows without holes
Of creatures without heart and dreams unsold...
But now,I live here,
With the wet woods which refuse to burn...
And the windows which crack from time to time.
Wednesday, 29 July 2009
The Face
It is just a face,one face,your face that i recalled,
While the sands of time dripped by,
But was it a face or a mask?
An image of my dreams and infinite expectations.
Somewhere lost and tarnished
And then the gore oozing from the mask,
The face uncovered ,the mask unravelled,
Blood!Is that all?Is that all that is lost?
Or maybe something more?
I see you today but ah!a new mask,
Seems new ,I like the colours,the vibrance
Which blinds the eye,the hardness which hurts the face,
But,wt about the old one which I had made?
You do not know it,do you?
But then again does it matter ?
The cost of my innocence and your deception...
I might not be able to account for it...
But look at the mask I wear,
The grin on it and the holes over my eyes...
Maybe or may not be you see the tears beneath it...
The hard,colourfully pale mask
-Of Time and Perception.
While the sands of time dripped by,
But was it a face or a mask?
An image of my dreams and infinite expectations.
Somewhere lost and tarnished
And then the gore oozing from the mask,
The face uncovered ,the mask unravelled,
Blood!Is that all?Is that all that is lost?
Or maybe something more?
I see you today but ah!a new mask,
Seems new ,I like the colours,the vibrance
Which blinds the eye,the hardness which hurts the face,
But,wt about the old one which I had made?
You do not know it,do you?
But then again does it matter ?
The cost of my innocence and your deception...
I might not be able to account for it...
But look at the mask I wear,
The grin on it and the holes over my eyes...
Maybe or may not be you see the tears beneath it...
The hard,colourfully pale mask
-Of Time and Perception.
Wednesday, 17 June 2009
An Afternoon in the Library
I sat across the table ,
Staring at the empty chairs.
I look across the bookshelves,
With voices ringing in my ears..
Until my eyes rested on the doors
And i thought it would open
But instead somewhere in the thoughts the time just grew swollen .
The piles of books and the myriad of thoughts...
I stared at the bookmarks,
And thought of the weird plots...
Authors ,art,plots and identities,
I feel lost amidst the patterns...
But none ever realised the futility.
In the vain endeavours and lifelong searches,
They'll all be lost ,didn't they ever think ?
Once there's a rebirth and new means of thinking...
Staring at the empty chairs.
I look across the bookshelves,
With voices ringing in my ears..
Until my eyes rested on the doors
And i thought it would open
But instead somewhere in the thoughts the time just grew swollen .
The piles of books and the myriad of thoughts...
I stared at the bookmarks,
And thought of the weird plots...
Authors ,art,plots and identities,
I feel lost amidst the patterns...
But none ever realised the futility.
In the vain endeavours and lifelong searches,
They'll all be lost ,didn't they ever think ?
Once there's a rebirth and new means of thinking...
Tuesday, 29 January 2008
Adieu
No shadows fell as I walked away,
None cried as I looked d other way,
Nobody seemed to have anything to say,
Things looked different all together,
As if there had been a change in the weather.
I turned one last time with tearful eyes,
But there simply weren't any cries!
With vignettes crowding my memory,
I realised as I looked at the lawn,
The best thing about life is...
Indeed that "it moves on......."
None cried as I looked d other way,
Nobody seemed to have anything to say,
Things looked different all together,
As if there had been a change in the weather.
I turned one last time with tearful eyes,
But there simply weren't any cries!
With vignettes crowding my memory,
I realised as I looked at the lawn,
The best thing about life is...
Indeed that "it moves on......."
Tuesday, 13 February 2007
The New Planet
A vision or a dream last night I did see,
A garden bustling with few denizens and me,
Sprkles & glitters spread taken from the night's glamour,
Insecurity lost,Security was the newly available armour,
It was an epoch of belief and none of inredulity,
The people were benevolent yet shrewd & witty.
Youth was the ball & love the melodious number,
Trees were the clssical danceuse & wind the murmur.
Fresh green was the colour of the occassion,
They said that models were out,nature is in fashion.
No smoke,no dust,no obnoxious smell to tell,
Plenty of plants and trees,yet none to fell.
I asked a weird man,"What's the fest???"
He jeered & said,"Its one for repose called the "rest"".
Birds' chirp,child's laughter,bright light & fragrance dominated,
He grinned,winked and before I realised,he gain said,
"There was a tempest and the earth has been recreated."
A garden bustling with few denizens and me,
Sprkles & glitters spread taken from the night's glamour,
Insecurity lost,Security was the newly available armour,
It was an epoch of belief and none of inredulity,
The people were benevolent yet shrewd & witty.
Youth was the ball & love the melodious number,
Trees were the clssical danceuse & wind the murmur.
Fresh green was the colour of the occassion,
They said that models were out,nature is in fashion.
No smoke,no dust,no obnoxious smell to tell,
Plenty of plants and trees,yet none to fell.
I asked a weird man,"What's the fest???"
He jeered & said,"Its one for repose called the "rest"".
Birds' chirp,child's laughter,bright light & fragrance dominated,
He grinned,winked and before I realised,he gain said,
"There was a tempest and the earth has been recreated."
Friday, 17 November 2006
True Colours
I can definitely see you & your true colours.I thought,I am the ugliest but no!!!You're probably uglier than me.I'm beautiful......very beautiful......I'm beautiful inside.I may not look pretty but my heart is pure.Its full of love,care,concern.But you're just a paradigm of deceit.I thought I found shelter in the shade of your jocund company but I was so wrong!I called you my friend but now ,now I prejudice you,I despise you!You're ugly,uglier than me................you never loved anybody.Your ego was your biggest entity and it filled your heart with jealousy.They were right !You are ugly.............very ugly.........ugly inside.You have treachery,hatred,disregard,jealousy embedded in the floor of your heart.Your virtues have been your superficial identity but your vices have now overpowered them..........Vendetta
"We'll meet again",she said.
He was left speechless,
Five years he looked for her,
But she couldn't be found.
Ten years later ,at a subscription dance,
He saw her,hand in hand,descending
From the Rolls with the Count,
Her ageless beauty sparkling,
With the shine of her lavender eyes.
The ice-blue gown fluttered as she
Entered the ballroom,smiling,
Her way through,at a glance,
She saw him,their eyes met,
She froze,the smile disappeared.
A sense of guilt entrapped her,
She was a sinner,in his beady eyes.
A glance and she could see
The vendetta in his black eyes.
Her vanity showed as she
Turned her eyes away,and went
Her way,as she had done,
Several years before.
The next morn as the red
Sunlight spread,the Countess De Montana
Was found lying in her chamber,
Her face shown like an angel
But the purity was concealed
With the hue of sunset all over her..........
He was left speechless,
Five years he looked for her,
But she couldn't be found.
Ten years later ,at a subscription dance,
He saw her,hand in hand,descending
From the Rolls with the Count,
Her ageless beauty sparkling,
With the shine of her lavender eyes.
The ice-blue gown fluttered as she
Entered the ballroom,smiling,
Her way through,at a glance,
She saw him,their eyes met,
She froze,the smile disappeared.
A sense of guilt entrapped her,
She was a sinner,in his beady eyes.
A glance and she could see
The vendetta in his black eyes.
Her vanity showed as she
Turned her eyes away,and went
Her way,as she had done,
Several years before.
The next morn as the red
Sunlight spread,the Countess De Montana
Was found lying in her chamber,
Her face shown like an angel
But the purity was concealed
With the hue of sunset all over her..........
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)