Poetry

Bitter Truth

The drops iridescent
on parched lips…

Memories lovingly lent
on solitary trips…

Rays radiant sent
with mischievous tricks…

Your signs what they meant?
Bitter truth drowned in sips…

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Poetry

Laconic Lashings

For alms of calm I pray,

With winds of change I sway,

The night is desolate dark,

Peace shattered by an inhumane bark,

In shrines of broken empty lives,

Fractured fragments continue to thrive,

The chains of seductive sedative thought,

In wrought iron chains impotent brains caught,

Sorry excuses in silent sympathy,

Now rollick around for empathy,

Weakened limbs now buckle down,

Under weight of the world’s crown,

In this afterglow I walk away,

Lest my chaos, lead me astray.

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated. Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

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Poetry

The Dichotomy of Love

Your smile lights up my world,
In brilliance of a thousand fireflies,
Though I wish I knew you were a bird,
Flying away on wings of lugubrious lies…

I felt myself sinking in throes of burning desire,
Amidst the vales of fidelity and passion,
Your vows couldn’t quench my heart’s fire,
Such is my fate to live as an aberration…

In incomplete lives we lead,
We try to find deeper meanings,
Unlocked doors have always been before us,
But we keep staring at the damn ceilings…

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated.Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

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Poetry

Lonely Reflections

These times are old yet new,

Troubled by wicked memories few,

Like petals decked in the morning dew,

Distant horizon masked by tresses that blew,

In such withering voids if you knew,

How much I now miss you.

What would you do now?

I sometimes longingly feel,

if I didn’t miss the chance,

that I so hopelessly blew.

Sometimes these reflections,

help reflect away life.

In this lonely perfection,

Hurt is soul’s carving knife.

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated. Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

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Poetry

Light Bulb

As I see the light so bright,

Rushing in through every pore.

Purging evil residing in every site,

I close my eyes to the onslaught more.

 

When it was dark

I lay alone.

Finding happiness

In things so gore.

When it’s so bright

I am still alone.

Basking in serenity

My own personal shore.

 

I am still in a chasm,

Though now of peace.

Seeking for alms,

Begging for every piece.

 

Still I miss

The days so dark.

Every mistake

Cloaked in masks.

As I absolve now

In the light so bright.

Every goal desired

Seems in sight.

 

Laying now under, the golden hue,

I try to seek in, a tranquil few.

Moments perhaps, to finally mend,

The soul to which, darkness had lent.

Its demeanor to battle,

To destroy every light.

Bend every vassal,

To its all consuming might.

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated. Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

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Poetry

Be my Valentine my Dear!

Will you be my Valentine my Dear,

Because your No is what I fear . . .

Every night I dream of you,

You are a boon bestowed on few . . .

Your eyes shimmer in the rainbow’s hue,

Your smile fresh like the morning dew,

Your nature gentle like the softest breeze,

You are a goddess, please cease to tease . . .

You saunter by, like Venus herself,

Your hair so dark, I lose myself . . .

Your skin shines, sweet summer sunset,

You lend my soul, unshakeable strength . . .

You make my day, with  a single word,

I hope my pleas are finally heard . . .

Allay my fears, refresh my heart,

Before my countenance falls apart . . .

O my fair maiden, just grant me a wish,

Into togetherness, Into everlasting bliss . . .

Be my Valentine my Dear,

Because your No is what I fear . . .

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated.Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

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Poetry

A Soul’s Rant

On the Gates of Heaven the angels cried,

What brings you forth, child?

My nights were dark, the days bright, he lied,

Let me in, keep my punishments mild.

What were you, man, in life?

The trade, profession, your means to live by,

A humble trade, a loving wife,

Dreams yet unfulfilled, why did I have to die?

Such troubles are behind you now,

As another flesh coat awaits you.

What of my past, how do I bow?

Forgo unfinished tales, get ready to redo.

The cycle continues on,

Like hot summer nights or a cold winters day,

Souls remain lost, most forever mourn,

Don’t we mortals even have a say?

We all are instruments in the Lords hand,

Balanced in pain, in gain, but with no identity, no name,

Little pawns to play with in schemes so grand,

Aren’t we all pieces in this game?

It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated. Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.

Notes:

The poem is a dialogue between the angel that guards the gates of heaven and an honorable man that died before his time. Dreams and aspirations were broken, the man still cannot understand the greater forces at work here. While the dialogue continues I try to explore the concept of rebirth and leave  it to the reader’s judgement if death/rebirth cycles are worth going through or simply a chess game for the masters of our fates.

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