Saturday, November 27, 2010

Timeless rhyme

Precious things and darling friends
are usually given at sudden steep bends
good things come at the oddest time
that's when my words forget to rhyme


The curl of hair

The curl of the hair
on the maiden fair
vowed her bother at every touch
wouldn't rest at her retouch

Her charming eyes
and matchless sighs
it laid itself on her docile lid
did not seem she could get rid

Then it fell on cheeks no care
in the dimples depths oh so rare
quite stubborn it stood midway
stayed on till she smiled it away

When crazy curls you cannot cajole
come draping the face of an honest soul
the mind it travels to Elysian land
strings of pearls on a strain of sand

This one is in love of my sister's beautiful curly hair :D :D


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

V r lyk dis only!

Shakespeare once innocently said "Brevity is the soul of wit". It makes me wonder what dear Shakespeare would have to say now when people have managed to raise their "wit" quotients to a  level where they can write and express their month long vacation to the Himalayas in mere 140 characters. Well, we don’t write really, we just tweet! A 16 year old cousin was casually questioned after his trip to Europe about the different languages he might have picked up on his vacation. "Java" came the proud reply. So much for our expectation to hear a ”Spanish" or a "German" for an answer. Gone are the days when professional resumes contained "English" or "Japanese" in the "Languages known" section. Now it’s more or less like this - "Java", "C", "Python", " blah", "eh, what" etc.

PS: I am not at all against the influences technology can have on language. I actually love it! Imagine how dry and boring life might have been without a "bug"gy neighbor, a pizza from a "googled" pizza place or a friend born with a "runtime" error!


Higher self

"There is this point", he began
They listened in rapt attention
Then he seemed to lose his thoughts
They looked on with apprehension

"Or maybe there was this point", he continued
They looked on hopes renewed
Then he seemed to look away
They thought he had lost it midway

"Actually, there should be a point", he said
They dint think this was going good
Then he kind of turned around
They thought he looked quite unsound

"What a total waste", they said
He still dint seem to come around
He had kind of reached a thought
Where their minds could penetrate not.

Eh? :P

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Have you seen that line?

One side you see the sunlight
the other side the delicate night
If it wasn't for either
how would you have known the other
The blending thin line of transition
between the night and the sunlight
are where all true things originate
before they come to choose their fate
The sun looks up with majestic might
The night looks much alright
The sun spells class and sophistication
The night bestows some raw emotion
How do you choose a further path
when you know not the aftermath
Do you go with the sun mammoth
or do you take the moon to oath
Do you choose the casual and carefree
or do you go into the realm of contemporary
Is controlled passion the way forward
or is free spirit of independence the word
Is life to be lived with prudence puristic
or do we need some experiments exotic.

Why are my poems full of unanswered questions? :)


Saturday, November 20, 2010

Lest I forget

I want what I cannot get
Let me name it lest I forget
I want the sun, the moon and sky
I want the catcher in the rye
I want the boat that's always sailing
I want the bird that doesn't stop singing
I want to hum the song unwritten
I want to hug the smitten kitten
I want June on a December day
I want April to go the August way
I want a day that's lightning paced
I want a trip that leaves me dazed
I want a word that doesn't rhyme
I want a friend who knows no time.


Friday, November 19, 2010

Several first times.

Then she seemed to retreat into the folds
the ragged fabric of her thoughts
She blended into the wholesomeness of his existence
she intertwined her thoughts with those of his
She plucked out his pain with the feeling of bliss
He should enjoy the spring's pointless beauty
his prehensile mind relieved from the otherwise infinite duty
He always was her most awaited of distractions
like being woken from a disturbing dream
She lived her wish of being his jobler
last of her blanket attempts to win him over
There will be another first time.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Some people

An instinct is all it sometimes takes
sometimes everything falls into place
some people are just meant to be
if we open our minds and let our hearts see

There cannot always be a reason
like the rain that comes out of season
some people enter in small measures
and end up being the best treasures

Some friends get so special
some moments turn so true
I wish I could hold them tight
no clue about tomorrow's plight

Is there a way to let people know
that they are like the sunshine on a pile of snow
warm enough to protect, mild enough to savor
true enough to surrender, rare enough to remember

Words come to me best on silent lonely nights with velvet blankets.


Sunday, November 14, 2010

The rainbow outside my window

I am all dressed with nowhere to go
I am all read with nothing to know
I am all heard but nowhere understood
I am all experimented having nothing to show
I am full of colorful pictures with no clear connection
I am a mosaic of experiences with no emotion
I am a mirage on sand who will disappear on demand
I am the light in the room the main reason for the shadows
I am just an imagination just a form of illusion
I am the wife of the pianist he who disappears with mist
I am the bee who knows the song but has forgotten the hum
I am the shell by the ocean taken and thrown by the waves of the sea.
I am the soul with no body, I am the thought with no means.
I am the dream that will never come true.


Equally clueless

She jumped from cloud to cloud ..
hoping to get a better view
of the star that had fallen through.
Minutes before she was in conversation
with the most beautiful star in creation.
She thought he was her guiding light
in the otherwise chaotic night..
but suddenly he had responded with a fall
the earth seemed to have given him a call
Why did the earth always want to befriend the star?

She could never completely comprehend
she being just a blob in the sky with no end
the handsome star seemed exotic to her
but the earth always seemed one step ahead.
She had hoped he would be drawn to her..
why couldn't earth be satisfied with what she had?
The earth was ever the selfish being
couldn't she let her have one star worth keeping?

But there was something she would never realize
looking at the sky tranquilized,
was the earth who was equally clueless
of the star and his where'ness'..
What happened after she had called for the star
didn't it seem like he was almost there by far?
He would finally be hers with the moon left bare
and she would show him why she was better,
she would make the scars on the moon her weapon.

But where was the star who was almost there?
Who was it who stole him midway?


Saturday, November 13, 2010

The thing to do when it rains, is to let it rain.

I am hungry for more rains in-spite of the generous showers we have had recently. I cant seem to get enough of looking at water pouring on me from nowhere. So on today's unimaginably hot weather I went into my stock of rainy memories and came up with some rainy thoughts.

Some mirrors created
from puddles of water collected
Why is it showing me my reflection?
Is it time for some introspection?


The little drop
on the green leaf
beside a pink flower
on the lovely lawn
slips sleekly down
moving to another leaf
slightly smaller than the former
perhaps for the better


The moon looks perfectly done
only in the distant pool of water
just like the love that seems perfect
only because it never happens

The bubbly blue butterfly
kisses the leaf and turns shy
making the leaf glow so much greener
an honest kiss and its untold power.

I wish it rains now,