Reconciled Glory

Figuring the forms of the nature divine presented us with,

rising up those shadows under the sun light and crawl up the tree trunk,

the forest was lit on fire and the species were mesmerized in the randomness,

rose up to the branches to save myself and softly settled on the carpet of leaves

time was short and not the destination,

I had to reach to the place I was called before I could seek devil's attention,

as the fire had reached its maximum rage, passion was still kept under his cage,

it was only a matter of time he leapt on to the far distant pond he could see,

moments were there and emotions rode so high that the light years could freeze.

the minute he rode out of the fire lit jungle and held his breathe,

all he could see and turn around was filth full of many beaten souls,

kick, start, and pumped up the engine and drove away,

bruised and battered, the wind of the new fresh air unrusted the pacified wounds.

unabrupted by the thoughts of what he left behind strangely, yet so beautifully,

climbed up the ladder of what was called safe haven,

glance, stare and saw a beautiful eye filled with depth and heart fr only one to share,

I was left but nothing to carry on with those mystical eyes and the love for which I care.

Random Pulses of the Commotion

Wings high above in the sky,
the thrust of the engine and clouds starts to fly,
You sit idle in search for a moment,
All ever man has only looked for a bagfull off entertainment,

Bright lights big cities, everything is so small from above,
all one can wonder is their is a very shallow distance below,
points to ponder, moments so stronger,
you mortal, you think you are the only one smart.

now that the night crawled in ,
the wound are still afresh deep beneath that skin,
they pledge us they define the randomness of the ocassion,
I could never get hold off the cravings and their tingling sensations

Branded by the golden demeanour of the society,
the well is too far son, to wait for the formality,
pinchingly bitter truth may or indeed will strike you,
Water will spill off from the glass, until you want it to.

360

The journey to the disillusioned centre,

Framelessly circling in that narrow drain,

Encircling the dilemma of the strange ,

Push it deep inside of your brain.

I cannot stop them to be around you,

It’s you that sets them free,

Why don’t we realise it’s only you,

The clouds and the churches, white and solid yet so empty,

Don’t force love out of your creed.

Remembrance , of you, of your thoughts,

Calling those old memories out and those moments we caught,

Resting in your eyes, hope the picture is mine,

Because I am the soul, my heart carries the image of you every time,

Dimly the flames bleed away,

Things carve out on that stone like a blaze,

Forget me, don’t punish, love is not gone, it’s just a phase,

Behave not like I was just another of yours doubtful craze.

Gush out, move out, just don’t freeze on me,

Active my imaginations for your passive thoughts,

Break in to the puzzles apart, disperse in the storm,

Explode into the darkness, and let me go home,

I am not a miser, It’s I don’t know how to control.

Heartbeat

There was fire beneath his eyes,

Running blindly never looked to the sky,

Rage wasn’t the quality he possessed ,

It was the love for her for which he was obsessed.

Moving up and down, round and round,

Those steps were the only things left for him on that ground,

Push the limits to reach , yet he drowned,

But he still knew the force of that sweet sound.

Dignity and pride was all he searched for,

Then came calling that strange love,

Love that never seemed to be the sea shore.

I tried to fill those gaps with those memories,

But my wounds hurt me so much, they were fresh,

Tried to pluck every thorn from deep inside of my flesh.

Along every came out my blood,

I wish I could be with you, every moment,

Your presence flash through my nerves every second.

6th Harmony

Push the boxes inside that maze,

and bring to surface the waves of the haze

Freedom of the air, the wings of the butterfly,

they clasp the wisdom flying high in the sky,

With dignity and glory I let my pride fly high,

along the sea shores and the pebbles lie my cries.

for the tranquility they impart, slowly in the air,

they won't last long, as they are hard.

reaching through that gold lit cave,

I see that rusted worned off shadow,

The shadow i wished would follow me for the rest of my life,

because that is what I searched in those long lost files.

‘Bag-aged’

You play in the park under the sun,

All you think about is carrying the fun,

Far away the flight catches you,

Inside those are demons with fired caves.

Laughter falls under the deepest sin,

And you will die leaving the life’s skin,

Grave beneath the shadow lies of those,

We trusted and for those we played with our lives.

Help me understand the substance of truth,

No one can run up the hill to that brute,

For which far away he threw his baggage,

There was nothing left but an uncalled handle

Wonder lusted years, glory moments,

Washed away under the seas currents,

For whom you died for never felt the hunger,

For which you have not pulled down your mighty thunder.

Chapter 6

Swollen State

Burnt body, charred soul, drowned in the alcohol,

Not able to rise up or stand on my forbidden land,

Left thin and lean, glean, but still not clean,

Have faint marks on my body and have rusted glands.

Fight, fight, fight and all I could just do I write

These words of mine describe my hidden plights,

Living on the edge of every breathe I take,

Life for me is on the verge of make or break.

I empty my spirit in the spirits on a daily basis,

Cigarette butts fly on around me as the seconds races,

In need of these sources to block my mind from those faces,

I don’t care the suffering what my body chases.

Left alone time to straighten up,

Need to take a break and give myself a strong pump,

I take my bike and move on to a destination unknown,

Leaving behind the memories of mine thrown.

Chapter 3

Realization

Bring down the mountain of THE unrealistic dream

The sooner you realize the lesser you scream

Pipeline the burning enigmatic rage within you

Because you are left with nothing except those melting hours.

Past time routines won’t save you from the burdened activities

You have to find loopholes within those transparent fragilities.

Rise up and bring down the mole hill till you reach the end

And try to find the answers before you stop calling him a friend.

Barking dogs and wandering flees will count the freedom

And on that day you will mark an end to your ‘Boredom’.

Last verse, last lines and the beginning of the end

You try to disfigure the passion of those binding chimes.

Chapter 2 - Aftermath

Time to magnify my horizons, search for clues,

It’s now time I find right feet for those shoes,

Been lost for so long, that people call me sulky,

Move and shake on, stop making your heart bulky.

Yes, it hurts to revert back from those moments,

But now I have to realise they were futile ornaments,

Invested heavily in them, those turned out to be false,

I’ll probably wait for some one to come, certainly when the heaven calls.

Time for the windmills to churn the wheat again,

The sunflower to bend towards the sun again,

Let the dragonflies raze over the fields,

I’ll write these poems and they will be my shield.

Even if I stood a chance,

It was too late just to give a chance,

I’m now a free bird, from those overgrown,

Overgrown premature yet so soft memories of hers.

Black Magic

Frozen, fallen from that iceberg
he slipped into the cold blue river,
entering the deep abyss of that mystery,
was the never ending road that lead to the black glory.

He could hear the wolves howling out to the moon,
there weren't no witches around with their old brooms,
it was just the old man watching and sitting ,
with his eyes ever up rolled.

The match sticks were oil slicked,
their lustre was marked with the sparks of past,
and so were lost the silver lining moments,
filled with hollow dignity of that old man.

That old road he followed from a long time,
rusted and burned out that path led to nowhere,
several voices in his head lead him to the days,
days that were filled with the black magic of the woman.

Shifting, riveting and adjusting he mended his ways finally,
people called him a lunatic, but he only knew,
knew that this highway lead him to the antidote,
antidote, erased his longingness towards that magical blackness.............


"People say that love hurts...
love is just a delusional part of their character,
what hurts is their inability to love someone."
-Mohan(21/01/2011)

Fools Gold

The inner feelings of a funny man,
running desires of virtual dream land
blindly following the sandstones of that desert
He could feel the orange sky overhead.

While they wondered he could imagine all the fabrics beneath him,
slowly and slowly running down that stream,
blood was so pure he could feel it reach the shore,
Gushing through the last hole of his body through a benign force.

thrived for that last breath of the air, 
freedom was all he could imagine in that air, 
all he could see in the sky was that image, 
blindly following the figure of the unfolded sinner.

Desperately seeking the advice of the deep beneath the unrest,
hide himself from the creepy crawlies in that shady forest.
Met a man who taught him to fight,
and the man joined the forces to ward off his plight

trained with the rest of them to fight,
came out with brave laurels and worthy sights,
got appointed as the leader of the troop,
with this early rise he marched forward for the route.

Shinning down that glory road of the jubilant movement,
we march towards that road to freedom,
follow me soldiers ill lead you to glory,
as the sun shone there was no one to stop them getting victory.

Wonders and surprises that carried there way,
the prizes and the loots they merried away,
were not enough for the sole souls of the dead bearers,
there wasnt a single one who felt his soul lighter,

The captain asked his men is anything left,
they were all so greedy that wanted one more theft,
the tavern they looted was nothing mere than a rotten ,
there find was just some books and leaves which carried a curse.

He lost men for every road they travelled,
it was the work of the curse that made every stone a gravel,
carried the dead soul on his burden,
without food and water every step seemed a hurdle.

Reached the end of the route and found that old man with his flute,
Said the old man with utmost wisdom,
cut loose the greed and the curse would be freed,
blinded by the greedy motivation, he found it a hard inspiration.

With the blow of the air in the flute,
the magical old man, brought back the miserable past of the destitute brute,
realised the effect of the events , the loner , the wanderer,
gave back the loot and set himself free from the greedy truth.