To have lost my sense of direction
To have lost my sense of will
Roaming around endlessly
To have been shaped to fill
I do not aim for stars or skies
Or seek some pastures green
I do not attempt to flee or fly
For a bird of cage I’ve been
A bird of cage – of sorrow –
No Great Escape left in me
I wish not to see the dawn or morrow
And there’s no place I’d rather be
I have retired from this marathon
With the desire running thin
For livelihood or success or money
For happiness or love of kin.
I remember, there was a Scarecrow
Standing bravely in the snow,
Fending off and scaring the pests,
In a barely fertile field of berries,
Always visited under the pink sky,
By a beautiful nightingale, and a bunch of fairies
The nightingale used to sing to him,
The melodies of melancholy and of merry,
He used to sway in the blowing wind,
Dancing like in a turbulent sea, a ferry
The magic of the pink sky,
Fuelled their love, with its wonderful glow
Indeed, it was a long time ago
I remember, there was a Scarecrow
Standing barely in the snow,
Standing bravely in the snow.
– 9 August 2010
Broke men talk, of their broken hearts
Over a cup of tea or gin and tonic.
Of the warm cockles of their hearts,
And the dreamy love they desired.
“Dreary me, what a fine woman!
I was a fool to let her go.”
“Dreary me, what a fine woman!
She stood by me with all her heart.”
“She believed in that elusive love,
But I never played my part.”
Oh! How they wish this wasn’t true
There’s nothing left inside,
Only tea or gin and tonic
In this reminiscent winter,
Only tea or gin and tonic,
To drown their sorrows and warm their hearts.
I miss those casual disasters,
I miss those causal affairs.
I miss your careless laughter,
I miss those plains and mares.
I miss those wonderful valleys,
I miss those poetic nights.
I miss those unusual rallies,
I miss those lightless fights.
I miss green mountains and water falls,
I miss our trekking plights.
I miss our candid talks,
I miss by-the-river walks.
If I were to express what I miss,
And to prove it were true.
I would lay my heart out open,
And shout out loud, “I miss You.”
In this play of masquerade,
Can someone see my real face?
You see the plants, the flowers, the stem;
But do you care what’s beneath the vase?
Wearing a mask, over a mask;
I feel like an empty flask.
I wear this mask,
to do the task,
of veiling all these scars.
Which no one should see,
and no one should care,
coz I still have a mask spare,
to cover my craziness, my sanity, my madness;
and to shield the world from my infinite sadness!
The very private feelings,
The very little talks,
Clinging on like golums,
Wrapped like an albatross.
The strong breakable levees,
The weak bearing shells,
The overflowing cups,
And the empty wells.
The hide-and-seek with you,
The occassional face-off,
The dull eyes, the bowed head
A little smile, a drop of tear.
Revitalise the lost thought,
Fortified serotonin nerve claws,
That odd song, the goosebumps
The acid test, the deep fall.
The waking up, the bright light
The open chest, the flawed night
The shivering hands, the cracked walls
Dejected chords and a naked heart.
– 1 Apr 2012
He is stable in his head,
And second to none
He sees through it all
He has only just begun
For this clairvoyance,
There is small price to pay
It might be easy to follow
But he chose a different way,
Ohhhh! Non believer.
The mob is swaying its head,
A perfect nod to what is said
Preaching the faith,
In lord of the bread
You have to question the myth,
That us bone and flesh made
For all that we preach, shall we put to use?
It might be easy just to follow
But don’t look confused,
Ohhhh! Non believer.
Surround yourself with open minds,
You are one of a kind
When you open your eyes,
And find the whole world is blind
It is the faith you need to put,
In all that humans could
To give them a chance,
To see the world you are from
It might be easy just to follow
Don’t let this world swallow..
Ohhh! You Non believer.
-23 Feb 2011
A part of this, a part of that
A land which was never meant to be named
A country being proud of claiming this land’s shame,
A land which should have never been aimed
A misfortune, of being fought about all the time,
The people confused to save their tradition or land
Heaven on earth or hell for humans,
Crown of a country or rags for freedom
No one can utter a word genuine, for its all compromised
The way of living in this hypothetical world or the struggle inside.
– 12 Dec 2010
No words can describe, this anguish of mine
The heartfelt pain for my brothers who are dying,
In an endless war, of power and pride
Of wealth, fame and cultural divide
Fighting bravely to save this ideal world,
Leaving forever their loved ones behind.
The grief of thousands can’t be heard, no more
For the blasting bombs have taken over
Their dreams and wishes have already been lost,
We hope to age beautifully, but at what cost?
We live in heaven, and enjoy luxurious lives
With our world built on,
Tears of widowed mothers, sisters and wives.
Be merry my fellow patriots and my friends,
In their memory we shall dine
We shall overlook the color of blood in our glasses,
and savor the taste of that lush expensive wine
We shall not let their sacrifice scar,
Our splendid home and our shiny cars
For we love more the comfort than our souls,
Let us reap these Fruitful Wars.
– 21 Jan 2010
twotejavu 