Dam-Break

Dam-Break

I wish I could

Dissolve all my walls,

Break all my shields

And down the shields

Inside my head.

Just once, let loose

Everything up there;

No more secrets,

No more deception,

No more cloaking,

No more lies and half truths.

Just once, I wish,

I could open the dam

And let it all loose,

To cleanse my heart and mind.

But I cannot…

Honor and care

Will not let me;

They see anger and pain,

Fear, suspicion and worry

Pity and sympathy.

They fear that

Most won’t care enough

And some will care too much.

They are afraid

That the future

Will be changed unalterably

And the past will e tarnished,

Tinged with questions,

Made imperfect.

What The Voice Whispers

What The Voice Whispers



Always a question...
A "what if" before
And a "what if " now...
Thoughts not completely my own
Yet thoughts
That seem to make sense,
That some of us do agree with,
While others
Vehemently disagree.
The voice bears no malice
Only the wish to understand
Why we did what we did.
It asks questions 
We have no answer to,
Questions
We dont want to face,
We dont want to answer
Or even speculate...
"What if you had?"
"What if you did?"
"Would it have been beter?"
"Could it have been better?"
It shows us pictures,
Recounts conversations
And emotions from the past...
Hindsight is always clearer,
Present-sight is too clouded
And foresight
Is wrong too often...

A Prophet’s Prayer

A Prophet’s Prayer

Flee from me, o Lord,
Come no nearer
I am unclean, unclean.
Leave me behind,
For I have no worth, no use.
But let not my will be done,
Only Your will be done.
I am unworthy,
But if You do insist, my God,
Then burn me.
Set me afire with Thy flame,
And burn me down,
So that I may rise like a phoenix,
Leaving my old self in ashes.
Cleansed, purified and renewed
To carry out the mission
That You have appointed me for.

Guilty conscience

Guilty conscience


I am the soft whisperer,
Who murmurs in your ear
And does not let you rest
In the twilight hour.
I remind you of all your sins,
And all your acts
Of omission and commission.
I am a gift to the righteous
But God’s curse to the amoral.
I am the thorny bush
That does not let you stray
From the straight and narrow path.
Escape me you cannot,
But deaden me
And ignore me you can.
But hark yea,
That my death rings the bell
For you to be thrown down,
Down into the fiery pit,
Where you will never rest.

You

You


You’ve always been there,
Right there by my side,
Sharing my highs and
Particularly my lows.
When I was happy,
You were content
To just watch me celebrate
And take part in my rejoicing.
But never were you happy,
When I was unhappy.
Never content until you knew
Just what it was
That hurt me so,
And what you could do to cheer
And bring a smile to my face.

When I was sad and low
You shielded me
In the circle of your rms.
When I cried,
‘Twas your shoulder.
Your shoulder was the one
That lightened my load,
Unheedful of your own.
Your hands holding mine
Helped me rise
From all falls,
Like a phoenix
From its mothers ash.
Yet now,
You’re so far away.
I’m doubtful if my voice
Even reaches your ears.
And if does,
Let it say,
“Thanks for all.”
................................................................................................................................................................
dedicated to Tammy

Wordsmith

Wordsmith


Words are all I know,
And all I wish to know.
They are my weapons
And also my tools.
Words of wisdom,
From the mouth.

I am no poet, merely
An ordinary conduit.
Words flow through me
From the land of thought
To the realm of print.
I am but a single outlet,
One of innumerable billions,
For a stream that never ceases,
 And never stops changing.

Which way do I go

Which way do I go


I’m at another crossroad,
Propelled and dragged this far
By the tide of life.
Faced by three choices,
To move on and forget;
To remain and retain;
Or to ignore and continue.
I’m confused,
For once bitten,
Shyer by twice I’ve become.
I don’t know what
Is the proper course to take,
Or how long will I stand here,
Confused and unaided,
Until I’m pushed forward again,
Made to make a choice,
Against my will,
As it usually is.

What Silence Screams To Say

What Silence Screams To Say



Silence,
Seemingly harmless
Yet filled with a thousand words,
Each a posionous sword.
Mute to the common man,
Silence speaks non-stop
To the one with an observing eye,
It spews words of venom,
weeps streams of sorrow
or laments in inconsolable despair.
It exults in joy,
screams in ecstasy
or quietly promises hope;
All unseen, but to one
who listens with his eyes.


Seems empty, does silence indeed;
But it holds within its folds
questions innumerable
Questions for which
We rarely have answers,
But silence holds more than questions,
It teems with a hundred answers,
repressed, focused to be hidden;
Answers which we hope
We never have to hear,
To questions we smugly assume
have no answers.


So how do we tell,
What does silence wish to say?
Does it hold cold anger,
waiting and abiding its time;
Or unquenchable sorrow.
Ready to sweep you in its trade;
Joy, so beautiful,
waiting for the right moment to share
or Hope, that things will brighten,
And burden lessen.
None have yet to find to true way.
So, what does my silence say?!

What If

What If



I yearned for the apples that grew
In the Hesperide’s yard.
The beautiful red apples
That hung just out of reach:
I tried so hard, to reach them,
To pluck them
 And make them mine.
They defied my best effort:
I came so close
Yet, I still failed.
And like the wily old fox
Who reached not the grapes,
So I begin to wonder.
Would those apples that I yearned for,
Be as sweet as they seemed?
Or would they turn bitter
At the tip of my tongue?
Would I have been able
To live with my decision,
The choices I would have made,
If I had succeeded?
Life is so confusing
And full of questions.
So here I am,
Trying o answer
This one little question
“What if?”

Welcome to my life

Welcome to my life


Why am I so mad?
Why do I harbour this fiery beast,
That threatens to consume all,
Within my chest?
Why is my life so hard?
And why do I not explain
What goes on in my head?
Empty questions all,
They don’t have answers in words;
Questions only experience can explain.
For how I explain
What I don’t comprehend myself.
If you do answers want,
You must live my life.

You think my life ain’t so bad,
That yours is the only
Cross laden path.
You may be speaking the truth,
But still, live through a day of mine.
Face the thousand petty fears
That I must face every moment;
Feel all the insecurities that I have;
Bear the minute annoying things,
Which when lumped up,
Make me something that is under
Neither mine nor your control;
Make me Anger’s child.
Answer and bear all the unanswered questions
Which define my confused being.
Live through this for just one day,
One night and one day,
And tell me truly,
With an unstricken conscience,
Whose is the better life.

Ups and downs

Ups and downs


Expectations pull at me,
Like leaden weights;
They drag me down,
Drowning me.

I am no genius,
Not blessed with a brain
That can comprehend and retain
All that I learn,
Every single day.

I will fall, certain sure,
But will I rise,
That should be your question.
Not how far down,
But how high will rebound.

Let not failure dishearten
Or bring angry outbursts; or
Success, too much expectation
And baseless boasts.

For every rise there is a fall,
And every success is marred
By a miserable failure.
But every fall has a rebound,
Every failure a triumphant rise.
So be not sad when I fall,
Await yet a while, for
I will rise anon.
 Yet these expectations that I bemoan,
And my fears and mistakes,
Are the ballast of my ship,
That stabilizes me
In life’s stormy sea.
So they are a burden
As well as a support;
Drowning me yet
Keeping me from
Going adrift.

Timely changes

Timely changes


Time passes and change happens.
Yet still, somehow,
Some things seem to remain.
Some things are reluctant to die down,
And be buried, and forgotten,
In the graves of memory.
They keep coming back,
To revisit you, or worse
They never leave your thoughts.
Some hurt, some sting,
While some,
They bring a smile to your face.
Yet all things must pass,
All joy and all pain must fade,
Slower or faster than you wish.
All wounds and scars,
With time enough and patience,
All will be thoroughly healed.
So let time pass,
And wait for time’s healing touch.
Cling to the joy,
And let go of the pain.

Ain't Love Grand...

Ain't Love Grand...

Ain't Love Grand?

Love is misery,

Love is pain;

Love is torture,

And everything insane.

Love, the fountain of strength;

Love, the reason

For every weakness.

Love cuts to the bone

And to the heart's core.

Yet it is love

That heals each wound...

No greater sorrow

And no greater bliss

Than in love.

Love is perfect,

Love is a song;

Love is blind

To every fault,

Love is deaf

To the braying of logic.

Ain't Love grand...

Brain-speak

Brain-speak

The brain says to the heart

"Let the pain go."

But the heart

Refuses to pay attention...

The brain say

"The stove ain't hot"

But the fingers still burn

In phantom flames

And they refuse

To take that plunge

Yet again.

The brain says

"Go outside, hide no more;

The Sun's shining,

There are no more clouds."

But the mind and the eyes,

They still see a sky

Clouded with past memories...

Floodgates

Floodgates

To whom can we open the floodgates

And be completely sure

That they won't drown?

To whom

Can we expose our wounds

And hope

They won't run away

Screaming for amnesia?

How can we trust

That to whom we open up to

Will have no apathy,

But will care enough

To atleast lend an ear?

Too little trust,

Too much control;

All leading

To weakened gates...

Timely changes

Timely changes

Time passes and change happens.

Yet still, somehow,

Some things seem to remain.

Some things are reluctant to die down,

And be buried, and forgotten,

In the graves of memory.

They keep coming back,

To revisit you, or worse

They never leave your thoughts.

Some hurt, some sting,

While some,

They bring a smile to your face.

Yet all things must pass,

All joy and all pain must fade,

Slower or faster than you wish.

All wounds and scars,

With time enough and patience,

All will be thoroughly healed.

So let time pass,

And wait for time’s healing touch.

Cling to the joy,

And let go of the pain.

Words

Words

A 100,000 words

Screaming in my head,

Begging for release.

They stay for a few instants,

And then vanish into the nothingness

From whence they came.

Some stay for a while,

Tinged with red, black

Blue and green,

They speak of sorrow and loss,

Hysterical joy and pleasure

And vague mutterings of discontent...

Only to leave after a while

Back into the blackness

Of my mind...

Time

Time

Time stops when it should speed.

Inching like a glacier,

When it should flow like a river, a wild river in spate.

Yet it flies like a bird

When we pursue it

In our time of need.

Anger not time,

For if you make time your enemy,

You will find

Time is ruthless, with no shred of mercy

And no drop of clemency.

Destroyer of all,

Second to none,

It reduces mortals and gods

To the dust and shards

Of a forgotten past.

Yet befriend time,

And you will be the closest

Anyone ever did get

At being truly immortal;

Remembered through the ages,

Your praises will be sung through the ages.

So decide wisely,

and beware.

..........................................................................................................................................................................

this, i believe, was the poem that Aastha showed you, and the one which flipped the switch we keep talking about...

This too shall pass

This too shall pass

All joy and all pain,

All grief and all anger,

All shall pass away.

Some forgotten,

Some put to rest,

And others, they remain

In the twilight of the mind.

All wounds and all scars,

All heartbreaks and partings,

All shall be healed.

Let Time heal and Patience lessen

The pain, the trauma and the agony you bore.

Let it all fade away,

Until even the scars are but a memory,

The pain even more so.

But let not the joy be forgotten fully;

Let it remain as an embalmed rose,

Past its time,

But still fragrant.

This paradox called me

This paradox called me

So very mature

Yet still, so

Helplessly immature.

So hopelessly corrupted,

But retaining innocence,

Just like a child.

So much anger, but

Such a calm façade,

Who can solve this riddle?

Is there one who can explain

Or even comprehend,

This paradox called me?

A know-it-all am I,

Who knows nothing.

Called a genius, when

In reality I am

Just another idiot.

So confused and frustrated

As to what am I?

Man, imp, or illusion.

Or a sentient puzzle

Created by god to baffle

The entire world and me.

Fire and ice,

Jekyll and Hyde.

Am I two persons

Bound in one body

To endure this madness/

Or else is everyone

As crazy as I feel?

A cryptic puzzle,

Yet the simplest riddle.

The sphinx’s smile

Or just an unopened file.

Really, who can decipher

This mad mind of mine,

This cipher that I be?

The word

The word

There echoes through the streets,

Lonely and deserted,

One word;

The scream of a lonely man,

Berating his life,

Cursing his luck

And dying within.

The word rolls around

And echoes off the walls

Of his now deserted house.

He wonders if it reaches

The ears of the One above;

He wonders why

There is no answer.

He strains his ear

Trying to hear

What silence may be whispering,

As an answer to his question,

“Why?”
..................................................................................................................................................................
dedicated to Yamraj

The shrine

The shrine

Every time I laugh,

Fully and freely,

It is for you .

Every time I weep,

Weeping out my heart,

It is because of you .

All of my highs

And all my lows,

They all , somehow

Seem to involve you .

So now,

Everything I do,

Say, think , live,

Write and feel,

It is but another offering

On the altar that I built

In my minds shrine,

In your name

And with you in mind.

Thoughts in the Rain

Thoughts in the Rain

Getting drenched in the rain

And listening

To soft songs.

Wishing to be

In a fast moving car,

With no destination;

Getting my face and hair

Buffeted by the wind.

Thinking of the good,

The ugly and the bad,

And things in between.

Remembering nearly forgotten memories

Stored in the vaults

Deep within my mind...

Beat

Beat

For whom does my hear beat?

Dost thou beat

For thine and myself,

Out of a sense of duty

And responsibility

To keep me alive?

Or does thou beat

For someone

Yet unseen

And unmet?

The road to the future

The road to the future

The path ahead of me

Goes on and on;

Twisting and turning,

And sometimes unchanging.

I am now at another crossroad,

Another parting of the ways;

The only decider of my future

Is what choice I make,

What I end up doing today.

One road is the dusty road:

Well trod and monotonous,

Conventional and promising

Safety from uncertain times.

The other road is the one lightly trodden,

It is still green and mysterious.

Unknown and uncharted,

It promises many things:

Glorious success,

Devastating defeat,

Or even the cloak

Of public anonymity.

Yet defeat is attained,

Only if you lose heart

Halfway through the journey.

So this decision I face,

The choice that will eventually

Decide what will be.

So I stand here and wonder,

Is my choice the right one?

The moment I regret

The moment I regret

A brief instant we stood there

When I came to say goodbye.

We said not a word;

Silence reigned.

An instant that seemed so brief

Causes so much regret now.

Now I realize it was my fault,

For it was my move;

I should have done something

For now my time was up.

We stood there silently,

Mute as bewitched mortals.

Then an awkward goodbye:

No hug, no sign of the affection

I hoped existed.

Maybe I expected too much,

Especially when her ‘no’ was clear.

The Imp

The Imp

Clapping my hands

And cackling with glee,

I thumb my nose

At the Powers-that-be.

Nay, not a sprite, nor a demon am I,

Nor pixie, elf or goblin.

I am the imp,

Magical and mischievous.

I am your highly annoying

Yet oft helpful companion;

Your friendly fiend.

Unpredictable in my ways,

With the twin sparks

Of madness and chaos

Glittering in my eyes.

Always laughing, with a prank at hand,

I regard the entire world as a jest.

You’ll often wish you knew me

A little better, or not at all.

But behind my laughter

And all that madness,

Which is my shield,

I hide my hurts and scars

Along with a terrible anger

I daren’t show.

All the darkness and faults

Are veiled in the shadows

Thrown by the fire that burns bright within,

The fire of my eccentricity.

So don’t be afraid,

I promise I won’t bite.

I’m as harmless as a volcano

That has lain dormant for years.

Be my friend, and know me well

And you’ll begin to see

Why I’m called

The Imp.

The Dance

The Dance

Why do i even bother

About what she thinks?

Why do i care still

About what goes on

Inside her mind?

Why is she,

Knowingly or unknowingly,

Bothering me so?

How did she come to posess

This power,`that she wields,

Over me?

How do i free myself

From her grip?

I try not to care,

But the accursed dance

Goes on still;

I care and then i don't,

She nudges

And then she stops.

There seem to be others as well

Yet occasionally

She glances my way.

And when she does,

I cant understand

What she says.

That time of our life

That time of our life

It’s time to say goodbye,

The “I’ll miss you too”’s;

Some heartfelt and some,

Some just empty words.

Its time to make those promises:

The promises to stay in touch,

And to meet every so often.

But usually they remain just that:

Empty promises, meaning-devoid.

It’s the time of melancholia,

And the time of nostalgia;

And maybe some regret,

And maybe some joy.

It’s the time for the ways to part,

For weaker ties to break

While the stronger ones endure.

Now we must say goodbye,

While we can still speak;

No matter how much our hearts rebel,

Distance become our nemesis

And before grief steals all speech,

We must bid adieu.

And all we can hope for

Is that our friendship

Is made of sterner stuff.

‘Taint your fault

‘Taint your fault

Do you recognize me?

I am the offspring that you bore;

Your son, whom you brought up.

But I am not completely yours:

I am somewhat mine,

And somewhat of the world.

Do not weep and moan

About all my vices and faults,

Which have now begun to stand out.

It’s not your fault,

You did nothing wrong.

You moulded to your ability’s best,

Aided and hindered by those around you.

Yet you fail to realize,

That in my making and moulding,

That there was one person

Whom you forgot to account for;

You forgot me.

Creator and creature, maker and machine,

Owner and property, guide and follower,

I am partly my own.

You did what you should have,

And so did I.

Now I stand before you,

A symbol, an image,

One confused being.

Who was and is wrought

Partly in your image,

And partly

On who knows what!

Super rose

Super rose

From his heart grew a rose,

Around her heart there was a wall.

The rose tried to breach

And break the barrier in its path.

Alas the wall was too old

And too wise, to go down thus.

The rose tried its utmost best,

And the wall smiled on.

Nut in the end, the rose was vanquished,

It did meet its bitter-sweet end;

It withered away at the foot of the wall.

But it went away with a smile,

For in its dying glance it saw

The wall smiling on, but

The twinkle in its eye

Was a tiny, tiny tear.

So even in defeat and mournful death,

The rose did achieve success,

For it still did spread its scent

Even in death’s cold grip.

Stuck

Stuck

Someone get her out,

She’s stuck in my head;

She refuses to leave,

And I’m going mad.

Her face keeps on attacking my eyes,

Her voice won’t let alone.

Her images laugh at my annoyance,

And her laugh further maddens me.

Her disturbing prettiness

Won’t let go of me,

Even now, even though

She’s long said goodbye.

Memories of her haunt me,

And there seems to be no escape.

She may have said no,

But she’s lodged herself in my mind;

And I can’t let her out.

Neither do I really want to,

For who is out there

Who can take her place?

Spirit me away

Spirit me away

I see thee in the skies

And hear thy mighty wings

When thou flieth

With the heavenly minstrels

And those winged jesters.

Traveller to distant lands,

Fulfiller of dreams

And renewer of hope,

Thou drawest awed stares and astonished gasps

From thy sightly companions in flight.

O traveller of exotic lands,

Listen to mine plea, mine one request:

Make me one of those countless millions

Who art thy daily fare;

Those, whose hope are pinned on thee.

Take me away to some distant land,

Or, if possible,

To some other time.

Take me somewhere, anywhere

Where I can be lost,

Anonymous and invisible

Yet retaining mine identity.

Take me somewhere where I belong,

A home away from here.

Searching

Searching

I have looked hither

And I have looked thither

And nowhere did I find success.

Now I don’t know wither to look,

To find the one whom I seek.

I asked the winds,

But they had nothing to say;

The arrogant sun gave me no heed

And the moon was lost unto herself.

Long ago I thought I had found her,

But she, she is now lost,

Gone, separated, parted,

Maybe forever.

So now I look and I search,

Searching for someone

Who may be

What I search for;

Though maybe, there be none like her

Whom I do dream of.

Saying goodbye

Saying goodbye

Once again,

Ad nauseaum,

We’re at another parting;

Partly different, partly same.

Déjà vu, it happens again,

The same old tears,

The new regrets,

Always about

The same old friends.

Can’t do anything about it,

Must live it.

Can’t break friendships,

But can’t bear to say goodbye.

Every time you hope and pray

“Make it easier to say goodbye,

At least this time,”

Yet, it’s the same old sob story.

We never learn to say goodbye,

Until the ultimate goodbye,

When one of us

Won’t say a single word.

Remember me

Remember me

So long, farewell.

My heart chokes on this,

My tongue rebels,

But adieu, dear friend.

I must say goodbye,

Yet again.

This parting has no joy,

Only grief, of things left

Undone and unsaid

And things that will never happen.

But mind them not,

They are but shadows,

Inconsequential.

Onward with your journey,

Look you never behind.

All I do ask of you,

Please bear me in mind.

Reliving the past

Reliving the past

I sit here alone, reminiscing

About everything we did,

Laughed and joked about;

All the teasing and banter,

The chaos and good cheer.

I recall those heady days,

Filled with our own madness;

How I hope they’d never end.

But alas, alas, they did end,

The unstallable did happen;

Time would stop.

After all, who was I?

Just another mere mortal,

One of innumerable billions,

Begging the All-powerful

For some alms, some more time.

Now we’re far away,

Separated by time and the seas,

The sun and the moon,

And by an expanse of land.

Now all I’m left with

Is your lingering fragrance,

The now fading memory

Of your beautiful,

The soft echo

Of your soothing voice.

Reasons for paranoia

Reasons for paranoia

So many mistakes,

So many missteps;

So many friends left

Angry, sad, annoyed,

Or simply, plain mad.

All, all because I was wrong,

Because I was stupid,

All because I did ‘what I shouldn’t have done;

All of it is only my fault.

Now I’ve grown wary.

I’ve caused enough distress,

So I’ve become cautious.

I tread now with a light foot,

Ever ready to retrace my steps,

Ever ready to turn back and flee,

Or fall on my knees and plead.

So rib me not for my paranoia;

It is the only shield

Which defends you

From my colossal mistakes.

Questions

Questions

What do you do

When you have

No cause to die for,

No motive to live for;

When you live,

Because you must?

What do you do,

When you walk the path,

Ignorant of the source,

And of your destination?

You don’t even remember why

You chose to walk;

All you do remember

Is that you must not stop.

What do you do

When you become,

Insensitive, uncaring

Of the world around you?

Nothing seems to warm

Your now frozen soul.

What do you do

When the fire within

Has burnt itself out?

You see no goal, no future.

Neither a beginning,

Nor even an end;

All you seem to have

Is your own self,

And these questions.

Questions, the ‘correct’ answers to which,

Somehow sound good and right,

But feel very hollow.

You wish they were right,

So you can accept them,

But somehow, something says,

It don’t feel right.

Questions of an idle mind

Questions of an idle mind

What do you do

When the oppressed one becomes

The oppressor of his fellow man?

When the seeker of the rose

Becomes the thorny hedge

In the path of another,

What do you tell him?

What do you do,

When you become for someone else,

The very pain you tried to subdue

Within your breast?

When the roles are reversed

In the blink of an eye,

Without you realizing it,

How do you go about

Correcting it?

If others will damn you for action,

But you will condemn yourself for inaction,

What is the proper course to take?

Questions i want answers to

Questions i want answers to

What have I become?

What have I been moulded into

By my past and present,

By my mistakes

And my successes?

Have I been changed

For the better

Or indeed, for the worse?

Seemingly profound questions

But in reality

Just me babbling

In unadulterated boredom.

Why must I be

The only lonely one?

why must i remain forever

Only a friend

And never a lover?

Why am I doomed

To lust for the forbidden fruit?

Why am I the one

Who is calm

Even in the midst of a storm,

The silent one

In the midst of a crowd?

Why me? Why just me?

Is it because

Of what I’ve been through,

Or is it because

Someone wills it so?