A short poem in class.

Emperor

“When the crown sat on his head
He robed his usual finery
It was an ostensible servitude
That was nothing more than perfunctory.

But look into his eyes…
His wisdom lay there
Tranquil and enigmatic
That gripped them and eluded them, in despair.

He spoke not of faraway lands
But of genius that in simplicity was laid
They failed to understand his dialectic sermon
Alas!they fell in the stereotypes of those beneath their grave.”

(chorus)
Beyond your reach
Beyond your hate
Beneath your love
Beyond your faith,i shall lay.

I brood in my tomb of silence about
the bygone days
If that’s the only way to keep in touch
when you deign
To show me that somewhere for me you
still care
And you’ve not yet undone ‘us’
thru your strength.

(chorus)
Beyond your reach
Beyond your hate
Beneath your love
Beyond your scathe,i shall remain.

Don’t fake aloofness cos you’ll just
fail my respect
N when u do that, i so wanna
slap you in your face
You’re burning this love up like
one of your cigarettes
Wake up before you become unloved like
the whore next to you in the train.

(Bridge)
Wake up before you feel like
a wasted doll at your desk.

(chorus)
Beyond your greed
Beyond your pride
Beneath your love
Beyond your vanity,i’ll dig my grave.

…and there are days like these…
Like the smell of cinnamon,melting in coffee…
Like bathing your senses,with vanilla fields
Like these lighter days with no chromatic keys

…and there’s something so stupid happening…
You just can’t stop recalling
and laughing like you never did
You’re counting the trees passing
by on your return journey
You’re living lighter days
with no trace of memories!

…and you get raspberry color in your hair…
You just dance on some John
Mayer music naked
You just stick out your tongue
to taste the rain all over again
You just blow pink bubbles
sauntering down the walkway…

…one of these lighter days
…the sun will shine on your bed
…you relish the freshly baked bread
…you’ll wake up with a tune in your head.

— An old poem revived.

I can make her laugh

I can make her go crazy

I can put her in a trance

And I can make her go dizzy 

                                                                                                                                                         But yet…deep in my heart

I’m so scared to let her go

I can’t help, but show…

She’s everything I’d ever want

             & some more…

                                                                                                                                                  There’s a part of her I can’t touch

A flame of sorrow that she keeps shut

She walks alone with her emotions 

                                     On that beach

A place where she goes just beyond my  reach

 That i can’t go there…

                        & i can’t make her cry… 

                                                                                                                                                            I can make her lust

I can make her make love

I can make her reach sensual heaven

And I can make her feel passion           

                                                                                                                                                             But yet…deep in my soul

I know she’s too good for me

I can’t help it…but it’s true

She needs someone to touch her

            Where her Sadness melts… 

                                                                                                                                                  There’s that part of her I can’t touch

A wave of desire she doesn’t let her wash over

She walks alone with her feelings 

                       On that beach

Her place, her peak , her eternity 

                       She won’t reveal… 

                                                                                                                                                          So i can’t break her walls… 

                       & i can’t set her free.

Thinking of writing u a rock song…

Feel so wasted, insecure and lost,

The sadness makes me feel drunk

I’m stuck in this hollow fall. 

Down…down in the pits of hurt

I feel delirious with all the pain inside

Feel so low…could pass as bein high

Every minute I break down again…and cry 

Miss the headache the booze gives me

Miss the twitching pain of the needle

Miss the high of a last dope

Miss burnin life up in a chain of smoke 

Hate the poison that swirls in me…

Every time I wake up in this damned city

Wanna run away from here, from this bed

To seek refuge from hating more of myself. 

Wanna scream baby, but there’s too much silence

My chaos stabs daggers…takes shelter in my weakness

Every sleep writhes me with quiet nightmares

N every waking moment is a hopeless repair. 

I’m tied to so many unforgettable pasts

While my present remains so damn empty…

The future seems caught in shreds of translucent hope

My glazed stupor tries to salvage some reason to live. 

Dunno rock from pop, a poem from a song…

Who am I, does it matter anymore…

Things don’t get better…they just get worse

And as I try to hold on over nothin, I feel cursed. 

I die a new death every single day

I don’t even get jaded, the pain still remains…

I fly away in the midnight of haunts

My life refuses to reach into me thru’ this grave 

Rescue me, no one can

Inebriated by anger, life’s ironies simply stare

I feel zombied like the rest of ‘em

Passing with me on the same road from life to death. 

My heart feels like plastic

Melting from the slightest warmth

N as it all turns too soon too cold

It’s done up in another nameless, lifeless mould. 

Your love’s written up on the epitaph of my soul

‘Tis safest there…beyond my flaming hell

When my sorrow has rampaged, destroyed me whole

I hope you’ll still read it the same way as before. 

Touch me, n you’ll touch my bleeding heart

Kiss me, n you’ll hear a scream in the dark

Hold me, I’ll hurt like broken glass

Love me…coz baby… u are my last.

Life stirred from shimmering pools of green,
Silver cocoons feeding slowly…
Inching towards the freedom of being,
Crawling in a struggling world to reach self-defined glory.

Wrapped up in throes of incapacitances,
Gifted by God, destiny, karma or fate…
In the end they’re all the same…
Indelible impressions on a man they make
Stumbling into a world so pristine,
He finds himself a worm in a continuum of molding
Inching in a long, eventful journey…
Towards a growth – slow for some, n for some so hasty.

There… a worm sees a golden glow…
Just beyond a horizon mellow,
His morning has finally come…
Voilà! The papillon spreads its wings to freedom!

Here we all are…butterflies…
Each such a beautiful example of Life…
Emblazoning it uniquely every instance
On our wings in moiré resplendence.
A riot of experiences and sadness drunk
As nectar from every blossoming afflatus
Groping for that elusive dream in the dark
Until we finally arrive at our morning calm.

I search for my dawn like so many others
The enlightenment I often feel is just around the corner
But in grand curiosity I’m fluttering away
Dipping…soaring n getting lost in weird byways.

I chanced upon a big papillon
With wings so charismatically strong…
With wide eyes and tiger stripes
Fluttering seemingly precariously,
With some latent injury
It carried on ceaselessly.
(Until it collapsed suddenly.)
I ventured close…a bit frightened…
“I’m alright!” it often thundered,
I went nearer…closer to carry
The tears it was so adept at hiding,
And a pearl of its tear fell upon my wing,
Crystallized into friendship with all its absurdity.

I unburden my friend by just one tear…
Nonetheless, with a grateful prayer…

God bless such papillons who find their dreams
In recreating those that have crashed terminally,
Who see their sunrise in smiles fate left incomplete
And practice masked determination in a vulnerable territory.

Trying to win battles in a ‘No Man’s Land’,
The distance between Life n Death is just a line’s nuance,
Where the death knell is sounding continually in your ears…
Yet you don a shield of courage n a benign smile,
   Never settling down on fear…

It’s you, numero uno butterfly, whom I’d trust my Life with in its nadir…
It’s your passion and dedication, for which I salute thee unto immortality…!

–Dedicated to Dr.”Tiger”
 And to his passion for surgery.

I turn the key and let myself in,

The lights are out, so I think you’re sleeping…

But when I check out all the rooms,

I find your note saying you’ll be coming back soon…

*

No “Love you…” or “Dear…” to tell me

I’m yet close to your heart like before…. 

{ * }

I realize I’m home alone…

We’re strangers, not lovers anymore

The love’s a convenience, not a choice

We have drifted apart… and now I sense a void. 

*

The thought of a break-up sends a tremor thru’ me,

It’s unnerving to suddenly lose my sense of security;

But, I guess, I’ve got to let you go…

*

                                    ‘Coz I know absence makes the heart grow fonder… 

 I think some time apart will help us figure out

What we really want from each other…

                                                  If we’ve got anything left at all. 

{ * }

I know I am home alone…

We’re strangers living under the same roof

The house’s a convenience, not a home

My love for you exists…I know…

But I’m not sure about you anymore…

She had a beautiful face & made a thrilling cover story
Adored by those who didn’t know, and idolized by many
She was the Who’s Who that sold many a glossy,
She was a rebel…with all the usual glory.

But what they didn’t see was the price she’d paid,
The true events that had caused her so much pain,
The sleepless nights of anger when nothing went her way,
The silent tears for the love she sacrificed for a vision of success.

Her peers were scared and many hated her courage,
So many were jealous of the strength she radiated
Those who liked her for her honesty were inadequate
They seldom stood up for her when she was so often betrayed.

It’s not easy being a rebel…
It’s not a luxury to hold your head high,
 without pride’s taint.
It’s not a convenience to always do,
 what your heart says.
It’s not glamorous to take up ways,
 few dare to tread.

It’s not a clairvoyance to know,
      of what dreams may come.
It’s not chauvinism that makes you break,
     the hearts of loved ones.
It’s not masochism to eventually break
     yours, too, in the reach of fruition.
It just shouldn’t be called “lucky” when
     you’re #1 after walking alone over all the thorns.

Next time you see a diva with flawless persona,
Think she probably went through hell with li’l support.
Yes…she did claim the truth of her dreams eventually
But did forsake a home, a lover, or maybe a family.

And you’d think the worst is over…
But who knows what this journey will become
For so many hurdles she yet will face…
There are miles to go for this Venetian rebel.