Monday, December 26, 2011

O Shadows!

O Shadows!


O Shadows! You, who grow so long -
Why do you grow
Ever so slow?
As if shy of meeting again?

With a smile, a nod or a rhyme, a song,
Didn't I welcome
Your dear wisdom -
Once earlier and thrice before then?

Come! My lessons wait; We don't have long,
You can only stay
While on my way
I've fallen, and can't get up again.

Come! Be merry! Let's hear your song,
Be quick about it
I am late a bit -
Once you're done, I have to work, to rise then.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

I am here (Eldorado XI)

I am here (Eldorado XI)

I am here.
Eldorado has a Sun. 
And a Moon. 
Shining Gold and Brilliant Silver. 

The day is yellow of dirty daffodils. 
When the Sun smiles, the daffodils sing. 

The night is pure white of fairy tales. 
When the moon sleeps, the fairies whisper. 

I had thought of many things to do with such riches. 
But I am busy. 
My greedy eyes cannot see enough of it. 
My greedy thirst cannot drink enough of it. 
Such greed! I pity me 
While I hoard and hoard and hoard
Such pure Gold, such precious Silver. 

I am here. 
Eldorado has a Sun. 
And a Moon. 


Saturday, April 23, 2011

How Cyan Was Made

How Cyan was made

Once upon a time
When time was a toddler;
When the old God had just
Finished creating summer -

He took a break and napped;
With loving care the green
And gray of solid earth
Kissed him unseen.

Then came the blue -
Almost a stampede -
They settled for only glances
They were too many, they agreed.

The red were very far
Not little sad indeed.
They sent their blessings too -
While thoroughly envied.

When He woke up he did
Guess but didn't ask,
His kids were so well
Busy in their tasks.

It was then that He noticed
A new color on white
His robe was tinged with it
- The Color of Delight.

Before He could worry
Of delaying The Man,
He claimed the bright shade,
"Why, I should call it Cyan!"

And so Cyan happened
As a dye on His white wear;
As an expression of delight,
And of Green and Blue's dare.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Particularly Hurtful

Particularly Hurtful


If you knew the wounds
That I took in my wars;
If you knew the pain
The least of them caused;
If you knew that they
Still live unhealed;
If you knew that I
Carry them like babies;

And wear them like trophies. 


If you knew all this, and more,
You would think that
This little splinter of a word
That recently got wedged
Some place in my heart -
Shouldn't 

Be 
So
Particularly hurtful.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

No miracle was scheduled for today

No miracle was scheduled for today

No miracle was scheduled for today.
Big bottles of indigos, blues and grays
Bought by me in order to paint my shapes
Had hidden from view my little vial of silver.

And then a miracle happened today-
A new shade of magenta decided to laze
Over roses peeping through my morning drapes;
And in its sloth forgot to pull the usual veil on all its glamor. 

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Heed

Heed

Shhhhh
Whisper
Laugh softly.
Be nice.

Do not wake
The great sorrow
Which sleeps here.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Lesson for an Entrepreneur Part VI

Lesson for an Entrepreneur Part VI

I carried my lovely treasure
With dedicated care -
My gems of unknown measure
Each one so rare!

My back moaned, fussed, balked
But still my treasure bore;
Then it broke; But I could walk
So I walked a little more.

Greed and pride are similar
In that they both make
Men push further and longer
Unthinking of the stake.

I put my treasure on my head
And begin to crawl.
I cannot help but let it be said -
It happened for good. I cannot fall.

Monday, February 14, 2011

True Colors

True Colors

The color black is a con.
It spread in her hair,
Promised, "I shall shelter you."

The color red is a liar.
It stuck on her lips,
And said, "I love you."

The color gold is the devil.
It throbbed on her skin,
Laughed, "I want you."

The only true color is ashen.
It had peeped through her eyes,
Had insisted, "I warn you."

Heaven's Display

Heaven's Display

Here it was
The special day -
I readied again
Without delay.
I looked nice,
I daresay.
Dressed in my best
Black and gray.

There she was!
Heaven's display!
So I memorized
My words to say.
And though I grew
New feet of clay,
I didn't go back.
Nor ran away.

And then she laughed!
Such innocent way!
Finding a new
Method to slay
My little heart's
Attempts to sway
My Heaven's share
A bit my way.


[Related piece My Heaven's Share]

The Letter

The Letter

When had passed a few centuries
An answer was sent to my worries -
So I ran ahead to receive my shipment.

With trembling hands I searched in fear
For a sign of favor or a hint of sneer -
In the letter from God's department.

My mind jumped to dread so quick -
I fretted "What if it is too cryptic!",
And despaired I am bad at word-play!

But such fears were really unfounded
That little letter simply said -
No miracle is scheduled for today.

Saturday, February 05, 2011

The Thing

The Thing

The Thing is very big -
Bigger than a man's head.
It is so big, in fact, it is
Bigger than Sky's spread.

The Thing is very small -
Smaller than a tear unshed.
It is so small, in fact, it is
Smaller than the color Voilet.

The Thing is very sharp -
As sharp as blades that behead.
It is so sharp, in fact, it is
Sharper than words unsaid.

It doesn't fit, it doesn't yield -
The Thing that lives in my head.
It cannot stay, it wouldn't leave -
The Thing I can't get out of my head.




Friday, February 04, 2011

Armor

I feel compelled to explain the use of 'wards' in this poem. 'Wards' has multiple meanings and I mean to use two of them simultaneously: 1, something (or someone) given in care of one's charge and 2, something (or someone) who guards or at least warns it case of an attack. 


Armor

When I was a child
Once, I got a burn;

My father blowed on it,
And blowed on it,
With such concern -

That though I kept
Hurting sure,

I said I don't,
So Father won't
Be hurting more.

Now I am grown,
And when I burn,

None and No
Tries to blow
With concern.

All other wards
I miss almost.

But, of my armor,
I miss my Father
The most. 


Winter

Winter

Others mistake for chapped skin -
All the cracks that appear in me.
They think my eyes water of cold -
When all the ache shows clear in me.
While I learn to hide the cracks,
Bear the ache, and act stronger -
Winter! Winter! won't you stay
A bit longer?

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Choice Things to Say

Choice things to say

I spoke to a random stranger
And I tried but failed to find
A single nice thing to say;
I was in such a bind.


Silence was an option
I could not attempt.
Out of Kindness and the other,
Easier was Contempt.


So I had to settle and I did
For choice things to say.
I snubbed and got snubbed,
Quibbling took our day.


It isn't that I really care
Or that I like to fight ,
Or spreading aimless grief
Causes me any delight. 


Rather, I got no love to share,
Yet I want to be a Christian -
All I got is bitterness - 
I only spread my little fortune. 


[Related poem: Nice things to say]

Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Great Con

The Great Con

They took the winter sky
And effortlessly laid
A Sun on its edges;
So, the Cold was unmade.

They breathed a few flowers,
Pardoned innocent errors; 
They bribed the fog away,
And answered easy prayers.

In such brilliant fashion
Gods conned clueless Men
(For the sake of their game)
Into Hoping Again.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Afterthought

Afterthought


Such curious choices
This day had brought -
To love was to hurt,
To not was to not;
I chose to grieve
As an afterthought.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

My heaven's share

My heaven's share

I rehearsed my words,
I drilled my flair,
I worked my courage -
I did prepare.
I did not leave
No pain to spare -
In order to earn
My heaven's share.


Lo and behold!
She was there!
I held my breath,
And said a prayer.
I wanted so -
I did not stare.
I walked as far
As I could dare;


But then she smiled - 
It was so unfair !!
How can she spend
Without a care!
What is to me
My heaven's share!
And if she must, can't she give
In sizes that I can bear?

[Related piece: Heaven's Display]

Life and Death

Life and Death

However loyally I incline
Towards relying on a sign -
Heart, blood, pulse, breath;
I know I am waiting for Death. 

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

DruNk (Eldorado X)

DruNk (Eldorado X)


All the gold in the world
Grains of dust - so few!
Eldorado, my love
There is no one like you.


The only Sun, the many stars,
The season spring, the color blue -
Eldorado, my love
There is no one like you.


I just need to close my eyes
To verify it is true.
Eldorado, my love
There is no one like you.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Child

The Child

A child asked me today
"Why aren't you gay?,
Why aren't you smiling?"
Such prying, I say.

I told him about my pain,
And told him of it again,
While he kept asking why,
Well after I made it plain.

I told him I hurt bad,
I even said, "BAD, BAD"
But he kept asking why,
"Yes. But, why are you sad?"

I lied - that I am ill -
He kept pestering me still;
I thought I'll scare him -
He wouldn't leave until!

So, I spun him a ghost story -
Grotesque and very gory;
It ended and he asked, "Mister,
It is just a tale, why be sorry?"

I thought to run or hide behind -
Far from such a prying mind.
Then he said, "I hope I ain't prying",
And just like that, I resigned.

He was a child, I aligned my tale -
Nothing but truth, but, no detail.
He still persisted with his "Why?" -
I hid so much to no avail.

So, I was forced to confess
Adult details of my distress -
Love, loss, heartbreak, grief -
Yet all of it without success.

Even though it was now plain,
And I had said enough to explain,
The innocent child with a smile
Kept inquiring again and again.

Finally, I decided to stay mum,
To refuse such questions dumb.
But how long could I not relent,
Or not recognize my tantrum.

I had to laugh at this comedy -
I was a child, wise was he.
Hadn't I heard? "We're players in a play" -
Why be sad, it is just a story?

And so, let it be known to be true
That I tried but could not rescue -
What a child all alone and armed
With one prying question could do.

A Visit to the Hospital

A Visit to the Hospital

People ask
What happened at the Hospital 
And then complain that my answers are too banal. 

They expect
As I am poet I would have seen more,
Or at the minimum I would articulate better therefore.


They are right
Though not in the way they expect;
I did see more but I am not sure if I got it all correct.


One hall,
One corridor, seventeen patients,
Ten lights, four AC ducts, a hundred and four ailments. 

One stool, 
Three water coolers, twenty two chairs,
Five joys, half a hope, one fear, sixty nine despairs.

One cough, 
Two infant wails, twelve silent shrieks, 
Seventeen counts of grief, seventeen bearing techniques.

One poet,
Couple of dreams - just residual fragments,
Six kinds of pain, and fifteen thousand lonely moments.


This expectation
Of interesting words from this visit is quite unfair;
It isn't as if something profound could have been found  there. 

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Hope

Hope

I believe we've erred
In our usual hurry
And theorized
Wrongly again -
All things considered
Hope needs to be 
Re-categorized
As a bane;

Though some people are favored
And them I envy,
Rest of us are best advised
To abstain;
We are meant to be injured
While trying to get free -
Each time chastised
For trying in vain. 

Rest of us have been cursed
To try and fail plenty;
Failure comes disguised
As hope inane;
Each time maneuvered 
To try once finally,
Each time surprised
Into new pain.


Defeated, but forever humored
Forever caged choicely;
Ever known ever revised -
Such is Hope's bane.
Forever maneuvered 
Never finally,
Forever surprised
Forever in pain.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Glass is Sand

This poem uses a small inspiration from Henry Livingston's Without Distinction.


Glass is Sand

Every month, on twenty fourth,
I visit the town's lower corner,
The jailer there is from up north
He lets me meet a random prisoner;

The inmates welcome a nice surprise.
I'm a women, some of them gawk;
They do not mind my puffy eyes,
Nor the fact that I don't talk.

I pay no heed in any case -
I need only the visiting room.
I just need them in that place
In their gray prison costume.

"Visitors only in visiting hours,
No one else will see these gates,
Only Prisoners and Prison Guards."
This is what regulation states.

I set up to meet a prisoner thus -
We are two people on two planets,
With a phone cable that joins us,
And a wall of glass that separates.

I come to touch that glass wall.
(The jailor's a friend, he understands)
That little thing, I won't recall -
I come to relive through my hands.

I never knew that glass is sand.
Had I known it before this time,
It may have helped my innocent man
Who was hanged for another's crime.

I might have tried to slip it through
My old fingers, or blow it away.
I might have brought his rescue,
Might have caused a little delay.

But I never knew that glass is sand,
And nothing else was there to do.
Except watch them take my man,
And smile for him a last adieu.

This was the place I last met him
While a robed priest spoke of sins.
A hug or touch - they wouldn't let him,
But the wall of glass linked our skins.

On twenty fourth, I still come back.
There's a hope in me - half sublime;
If sand in glass could make a crack,
Perhaps I can go back in time.

If I can't save him, I'll make him glad
For one more day before his fall,
And while I dream, let me add
I would touch him without the wall.

The wall of glass is still no less,
It hasn't broken yet, but it may.
But when it does, will it confess,
Why it did not break that day.

It joined us so. It held us lone.
As water sheer, as diamond stone.
The thunder in me could have blown,
If glass is sand, I just had known.

From the visitor's lounge, sign a pass,
Take the second door on the right -
And you'd find my wall of glass
Made of sand but still upright.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Surprise

Surprise

To my surprise
The sun did rise,
And it is such a miracle -
The stars didn't tumble!
There's some mistake -
The sky didn't break;
And this has struck me most oddly
That the world still continues to be!
Haven't they heard - she loves not me?

The Tree

The Tree


A hazy tree in the fog,
peeps through the door
of another world; I wonder,
Who is it looking for?

Monday, January 17, 2011

Nothing to say


Nothing to say

Once
I wore a color.
And spoke in signs to you
Eyes, lips, hands, skin,
Hold, press, fold, spin,
I made signs, I danced too.
I had so much to say.  
I waited for a while,
For a nod, or a smile,
But longer, I couldn't stay.

Once 
I sent a pigeon.
In its tiny feet I tied
Some cryptic words,
One moon, two lovers;
I let the key to my message hide.
I had something to say. 
I waited many days,
For a solving cryptic phrase,
But longer, I couldn't stay. 

Once 
I shared a dream.
Of dirty yellow flowers. 
I labored complex thought,
To seek, and then sought
A color that was ours. 
I had this thing to say. 
I waited months, friend,
For you to comprehend, 
But longer, I couldn't stay. 

Once
I wrote a song.
Alongside my throbbing heart
I placed it in your care;
Less plain or more dare
I couldn't be for my part.
I had one thing to say. 
I waited for a year,
For an echo to appear,
But longer, I couldn't stay.

Once 
I bared my soul.
And let you come inside
Where I was all alone. 
Weak, scared,  so prone,
I let go of my pride.
I said all I had to say. 
I waited for a moment,
To hear your judgment,
And longer, I couldn't stay.

Now
I hear you call. 
I never did reach you. 
All I said was in vain.
Too cryptic, at times too plain;
Believe me, I wish to start anew, 
But I have nothing to say. 
I have spent all my arts,
Songs, dreams, souls, hearts, 
Things I have given away. 
I cannot find a thing to say.
Though I try, I can't compose
A word, a thought, a rhyme, a prose;
Words I have given away.
I have only nothing to say. 


Sunday, January 16, 2011

Rouse! King of Rohan!

For those, who do not remember their Tolkien very well, Theoden was the king of Rohan under the spell of Saruman, eventualy "cured" by Gandalf's white wizardry and appeals to Theoden's own sensibility lying behind the spell.


Rouse! King of Rohan!


Rouse! Rouse!
King of Rohan!
Rouse Theoden!
Herugrim Calls!

While you sleep, Shadow grows

The gems you earned,
The steeds you dared,
The land you served,
The people you cared -

Lie naked; And Shadow knows

Rouse! Rouse!
King of Rohan!
Rouse Theoden!
Herugrim Calls!

While you sleep, Shadow grows

Men fear, boys hide -
No one gathers Hammer's Horn!
Hearts faint, heroes give,
Rohan weakens, Shadow's strong!

No one leads, none follows

Rouse! Rouse!
King of Rohan!
Rouse Theoden!
Herugrim Calls!

While you sleep, Shadow grows

While you sleep soldiers scatter;
Rouse to Gather! Guide! Unite!
While you sleep, Shadow wins -
Rouse to Battle! Rouse to fight!

Hear! Rohan calls old Heroes

Rouse for Oaths!
Rouse to Keep!
Rouse for Honor!
Rouse to Lead!

Rouse for Love!
Rouse for Need!
Rouse for Duty!
Rouse to Lead!


Rouse King!
Rouse Now!


Friday, January 14, 2011

Lost Battles

Lost Battles

My walls strict,
My sentries held -
Oh Shame!
What surprise!
A moment tricked,
We were felled -
Despair came
In disguise.



Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Today : The right answer to Life ...

The date today is binary - 111011 - 54 in current human language. the correct answer to life, universe and everything :)

Is there a God

Is there a God?  

Let's let this query leave,
"Is there a God?",
We shall never apperceive
Both motivations are flawed;

You tremble in Fear and ask,
"How couldn't He possibly Be!",
I take my Reason to the task,
And wonder, "Well, why should He?"



Sunday, January 09, 2011

Leaving Eldorado (Eldorado IX)

Leaving Eldorado (Eldorado IX)

My broken heart broke again
Meeting such unwelcome sight,
It couldn't bear the biting pain,
It chipped away, bite by bite.

I take to journey while it dies,
I wouldn't stay its passing rites.
Although when I close my eyes
Eldorado still invites.


--

[Related Post: Eldorado Found]

Eldorado Found (Eldorado VIII)

Eldorado Found (Eldorado VIII)

My broken heart breaks again
On meeting its unwelcome sight,
I holler loud at the pain
As its teeth of scorn bite,

With such disdain it denies
My appeals and my rights,
- And yet when I close my eyes ..
Eldorado still invites.


--

[Related Post: Leaving Eldorado]

Friday, January 07, 2011

Friend, will you find me?

Friend, will you find me?

I did not tell anyone
Of these waves I found;
No one knows if I live
Or if I have drowned.

Whether I still await,
Whether I have crossed;
Whether I found a road,
Whether I am lost.

I alone know the depths -
I have reached the ground.
The waves made me a path
The waves made me drown.

This path twists and turns
Perhaps I got lost.
I was to stop somewhere -
That place I have crossed.

I run this unknown path
Drowning deeper dark.
Friend, will you find me?
I walk the Primrose Path.