Ponder alone for a brief moment why composing is so significant, isn’t there quite a few minds busy seeking what more is there to find? why I have to scribble my incoherent thought unsure of acceptability…mostly distraught..? I am sure there will be some who will seek poetry between the metered lines.. iambic pentameter sonnets or various other odes form within life’s innumerable modes.. words would be chosen… alliterative analogies or semblance anguish and metaphysics would make perfect balance. for them poetries are not mere words so intrinsic not sonnets or quatrains but poet’s mental Orphic.
But there would be readers who read the poem feel the words with their deepest mind and fathom, perceives the conception that lies beneath lines, Latent thoughts that run through poet’s veins.
Walking without a pause for millions of years with a cause from the darkest abyss of nescience we are proceeding towards the radiance and emerged on this day of manifestation not unscathed though, but plenty to revelation… We have arrived with blood dripping body and shredded souls of compromise and treachery we have emerged with mournings and wailing Innocent weak and incapable human being we have passed through parched and flooded lands we have crossed frozen and fertile expands. But road didn’t end here…only we are tired, destination hasn’t arrived yet and we are not spared the long meandering road lies ahead with unknown amazement we are just aweary footsloggers remembering our lost moments. We are not expected to take a break or lie in stupor Moving on the path of life is our destiny till lowered anchor.
Of late mind is often losing reciprocal consciousness being captive for so long….. body doesn’t respond to the mental obeisance.. shadowy figures grab me by hand rudely directs me to an end…
I keep walking with them daubed in their sweat and tears those year long painful passionate tugs Past compassionate feelings gets moistened in my tears I keep walking….
Look for that vast blue expanse whom we used to call as sky with the white candyfloss cloud saunter does it really touch the green pasture !! birds with their feathers smeared in sun soars high to an unknown haven…
With an indifferent heart and some failed dreams in sleepless eye I merge with the mob for an unknown destination with the sole aim of living a life meaningless insignificant lazarus existence just to breathe and escape death.
I suddenly discovered that I died long ago…… my name was human !!
What’s original in this earth !! every idea is repeated nothing really of much woth, still some miracles occur everyday as fresh and new like moist clay, every dawn paints the horizon with unique shades of few million scent of every dew hangs on the blade of grass fresh and fragrant drops as an hourglass..
Since the first ray of sun and first cry of child things have been originated, whosoever did had been repeated too as experiments followed hence nothing remained original all were borrowed. We invent and reinvent our happiness and anguish with our limited capacity hardly lavish, paint with sheeny strokes on the much painted canvas creating anew some incoherent balderdash, few new emotions and novel scepticism arises with noisy fanfare even egoistic narcissm which is then celebrated as original brand new dogmas time laughs it’s scornful laughter like frigid deep ocean mingles with red hot magma.
It’s the beginning of end it’s time of birth for the dead, step by step gradually every happiness will die eventually, hopes aspirations and expectations will crumble before the chaplains, helpless hearts will harvest the hopes in the darkened alley will they grope, for the values and venerable virtues Scavenge the stains of morality to enthuse.
A pale sun and the grey moon will not change….. not any soon vices will rule to win over the morale ocean will hide much below the coral species will introspect, search for the sin vices will fight among them to be the king. Won’t it be sad to lose the civilization!! won’t we all be sitting for apperception !! won’t we all pray for a big red Sun !! but by then, it will be too late, won’t have any place for us to run.
With multifaceted desire in blood and scent of water in body the heart awaits for wild uterine savagery, while stars transcends the astronomical distance with feathery steps and leaves a stain on my window..,..
Few shadows merge with. some preposterous paradigm vies for supremacy….
My sultry nights perspire subconscious dream lonely…… with you in every speck of my perception…
We dwell within us but on different amplitude, never restricting our purview nor attitude.