He was kept quite forlorn of hope
Sleepwalking the delicate tightrope
Those that were close abandoned their posts
Before night fall they had cleared the coasts
So this is the end of a new beginning
Before it even started
To keep me from winning
while I am broken-hearted
When a talk turns into an argument
And I realise it’s too late to undo
I play the mute, the dumb, the ignorant
‘Coz “arguing with a fool shows there are two”
Nobody’s perfect. I know you’re not
Don’t force your idiology upon me
No need to exhibit your temperament hot
I know what’s good for me
If you want to discuss, lets discuss
Let’s put our concepts on the table
Let’s see what we have got to express
While we are matured and able.
Love is in the air
She’s sitting on a chair
I am sitting right across the table
shy and unstable
I am giving her the looks
from behind a pile of books
will she notice?
The lady next to her is in her forties
Her eyes met mine
Rose red wine
I get the chills
I forgot my pills
Am I grounded?
Was it a dream?
Why did I scream?
Did I see a ghost?
I smell French toast
It’s early morning
I can’t stop yawning
There she is
My sweet cheese
She’s the one
Her heart I won
She sits by me
I let her be
I stare at her
My vision blur
I feel the jolt
My nuts and bolts!
Why the world is shaking?
Speakers on, he cleared his throat
I took no note
The plane just landed
Inside the plane?
or was I dreaming in my dream?
What next?! How would I know?
You sent me here, you better know
I am here now, I am listening, I am all ears
Your little action gave me the clue
That’s how I know you
Every card has a picture
You don’t need any more lecture
Like so, I posted 100 poems in WordPress.com
It was quite a journey. Mostly downs than ups and that is for a reason. When I hit the rock bottom the first thing I look for is a pen and a piece of paper. It is easier for me to paint woes and grieves than smiles and happiness. May be because good things are good to share with people while bad things rather stay deep down in a no-go zone within me. I can keep it safe.
As far as I can remember, the first poem I really fell in love with is the ‘Daffodils’ by William Wordsworth. It is a classic even to this day. I vaguely remember my teacher telling us how few daffodils in the garden turned out “Ten thousand saw I at a glance” in the poem. If I am not wrong, it was his sister who spilled the beans.
There is a story behind every poem which normally gets buried along with the poet. By the time your poem gets noticed you will be long gone. Well, in most cases I mean.
Most, if not all of my poems are rhyming poems. I personally love to write poems with rhyming words. I enjoy it that way. I had had written quite a few without them but it seemed like an ocean without tides, tree without leaves, music without rhythm, me without you…… That said, I love reading poems of all sorts. I admire the creativity in some of you. The way you play with words is a feast to the eye.
Sad part of it all is that there is no market for poetry. There are no much takers. Not many people care to take a peek into your personal life. Unlike art, which albeit depicts your many moods decorates the wall, poetry eats dust. But, we write. That’s the way we know to express ourselves. May be in an unknown future someone will read our poems and try to live in the world that we once lived. Until then, we keep writing or at least I will.
I can read you like a book
You can’t mock me and get away with it
I could hang you on a hook
And tear you down; bit by bit
But I keep no count of stray dogs
Let them bark coz that’s what they’re good at
I am not a fan of bats and frogs
But I can tell what they’re staring at.