Believe, and thou shalt have it.

"Un-complete"

I’d stumble into visions of lustrous perfection, chastising the mocking legitimacy

I’d covet a seamless spin of the saga, ushering the periphery of flawed delicacy

The infinite pit of subtlety that craved piloted the pioneered pursuit

Combing a saline drip amidst dawning dewdrops from the heavens that alit

I flunk to recall the age of fulfillment, an epoch of inhumanly enlightenment

That shoved me to humanly enlightenment, an acceptance of glitches. The scent

Of inaccuracies, that tingle the soul; humanoid in spirit and precariously exposed

Brewing the arduous journey, but transmuting the world so sonorously posed

Reaping rewards of peace in turmoilous madmen’s terrains- infertile and sooty

An absurd enigma as it happens, but imperfection is sheer humanly beauty.  

                                                                                                            - яhԑȃ

Cease whining on what hath happened,

For thou moaned on thy miseries

Comprehend that life doesn't always give you lemons:

And it is then, amigo, when thou shalt hast to grow one.

It's a beautiful life

And again.

The world is a labyrinth, of threats and commands

It’s woven around itself- an inevitable, seamless end

The further you travel, the more you gather it’s all alike

You shall be ensnared alive, lest you ruthlessly blend

Memories are sought to be remembered and yet forgotten

It commences with naught, terminates in the same

Things change, and you are nobody furthermore

It all dissolves into the ceaseless platform of pain

The core of it- sorrow is vastly eternal

Man merely tries to find happiness all his existence

And he lives in a trance- the same as the others

Navigating through agony, grabbing as much as he tends

Hence, when you hear my cry, inquire not what happened

Life happened my friend; a new turn of infidelity

Probe as to what I understood, for it may abet you too

And take a pew; for this is the verity.

I’ll tell you that hope is the source of all

An inept thing, that. When glints of light in you remain:

Destroyed by the rash truth that knocks you in the face

Do not hope mon ami, for you shall be hammered again. And again.

                                                                                                              - яhԑȃ

Is poetry the most beautiful and the most ragingly subtle thing i ever came across? 

The knot.

Yes we held hands. Drawing closer to you was slick. Flawless. And it worked!

Until the phase when my house submerged in the storm: nicking my smile. Everything just washed away. An accident, it happened. You still soothed me. It would be fine again.

And then a theft, leaving me in tatters. Another one, and I had had enough. You still held my hand.

But then why did the tornado strike, and then the earthquake? Why was everything so murky? Why did things befall, malicious things, since I arrived? Yet living in the shadows was acceptable- Because you never left me. You were there. Even when I was devastated.

Then came the fire. An accident, so inextinguishable, succeeding its ancestors. It was similar- a threat to end me. Accidents. And this time, I could take it no more. The slow torture was murderous. There had to be a reason. A cause for the mishap. I settled to walk through the flames to uproot my hitches. And then I saw you fueling the heat.

(But you said it was an accident)

It's coming

There’s something coming through the fog, I can see its flame glow

Nearing to rescue me, to yank me out of the knee-deep snow.

Guided by an angelic soul, steering its way amid the dark around me

It shall show me the trail, setting fire to the frosted ice beneath.

The night won’t reign for long, the daylight shall route its way past

The shadows crumple me to pieces, but endlessly it shan’t last.

My prayers shall be answered soon enough, until then I stay behind

No matter how black the sky, my spirit it not ever ought bind.

And then shall I sail through roads I struggle to climb today

I’m twirling in the storm, lingering till it arrives, muttering as I pray.

‘Coz within, I grasp the faith that his flowers shan’t be left unattended

He thoughtfully blooms each one. Each one who believes is tended.

Though it’s the pain that sears as sparks flicker from fire I’m put into

But a diamond is only a coal who burned in flames orange-blue

It’s coming to get me out, it’ll relieve me of my agony, I know.

And it’s coming through the fog, I can clearly see its flame glow.

                                                                                                                     - яhԑȃ

My silence is just another word for my pain.

I'd rather be stupid

I’d rather be stupid

Instead being smart guy- comprehending the gaps

I’d rather not grow up

Than maturing and witnessing the collapse

For all I understand, it’s going to wound me

As I chance a tryst with reality

I’d rather stay unawares, unwise, redundant to its supreme

And then be ecstatic devoid sanity

For what is the point of life than to stay happy?

I’d rather not know what’s affected

Than to realize it and mourn

For everything cannot be abetted.

And one has to know when one is beaten.

So, I’d rather not know I’m thrashed

For I did not put up a fight

At least I died so unabashed-

Not steering through the world,

Or getting defeated by fame or wealth

Nor defeating others for power or money

Unawares of anything. Of cheating or stealth.

I did not compete- for happiness.

And I died happy.

I lived for myself alone.

Yes, that’s what I would be.

                                                                                                           - яhԑȃ

Thursday

A regular day at school was what that Thursday seemed to be. I was sitting with my friend, gossiping along, when a group of small guys passed us by. A usual habit of mine, I waved up to all of them.

Most felt self-conscious, and embarrassed to gesticulate to a stranger, and worked their way out with awkward glances. Among those, was this small lanky fella- who turned around as I waved. And to my utmost astonishment, and a pleasant disbelief, he blew me a flying-kiss!

We never met again, nor did I pursue his trail to hunt for him in the school. I doubt we shall ever come in contact again. But if we do, I would love to express my happiness to him. He made my day. A simple signal of acquaintance, and a confident relaxed attitude might just breed cheerfulness in the world.

I learnt that day.

I try to make sure that I do not confine this chain of happiness. Maybe I could produce it too.

Be human.

And i can only hope that
god is listening to my prayers
My words of sorrow, which pour out
through phrases. Reflecting my desperation.
But is he listening?

The Jungle

 

The squandered trees and the grassy road

The Animal kingdom graces the abode.

The jungle is lordly, majestic and wild,

Serene and stormy, the nature’s child.

 

The streams jut out to touch the clay

The dew does dwell some more today

While chimps ascend the bough with a bung

The larks canopy the highest rung.

 

The lucid light adorns the site

Vibrant as ever, the blooms delight

Moles and squirrels squirm beneath

Rattling the nuts with claws and teeth.

 

As sun bows down to the dusky gloom

The woods exhaust to the rivery tune.

As cuckoos fade out with chirps of sorrow

The jungle shall begin anew tomorrow.

                                                                        - яhԑȃ