Emotions in Short Bites.

“Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It’s that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that’s what the poet does.”

— Allen Ginsberg, from Ginsberg, A Biography.

Poetry.

We have all done that at some time or another. Getting sentences to rhyme has a very different kind of allure to it. Clearly, I couldn’t resist it too. Although just rhyming the sentences isn’t enough when it comes to poetry. I don’t know how I write, or if the way I write is enough to make sense or even to tell a story. Still, here’s all that I have done so far in the composition department.

My Poems

A Familiar Susurration

A familiar susurration ringed,Deep somewhere in my dark heart.One I’ve felt only in imploded dreamsAnd the dull splashes I call art. The alluring gaze fell upon me,One from the stars you could say.Set me aglow, made me halt in my rutLike night comes to douse the day. Where desires fought to kill the other,Sworn to …

Memories and Dusk.

The dusk rolls in, Like a freshly boiled pot of caramel, Hot, Heavy, Yet, somehow a fresh thing. Sweet, I wonder about the smell of dusk. Maybe it’s all about the pot! A pot of ocean makes it salty, Oddly satisfying. A pot of mountains turn it dewy, Or is that a dawn thing? Either …

Fire has such an appeal.

Fire has such an appeal. When you turn off the lamp,And look at the fireplace,The flames wafting,Licking,Twisting,Among the logs. When you close your eyes,And hear the moisture,That hisses,Pops,Cracks,As it boils to the surface. And then you notice the smell,Citrusy Pine,Sweet hickory,Mixing and making love.The warmth engulfing everything,Including you. Fire has such an appeal.Even as it …

They’re for US!

This poem is in response to the September writing prompt #3, by Free Verse Revolution.

Those Fiery Eyes.

I see the sun drift slow and steadyTowards the marking line, whereTwo worlds meet as one every day.The far edge of the land, whereThe burning, glittering silk falls,Into an invisible waterfall, and theUnreachable canvas above, ends. All that and much more right here,Beside me in you, as your eyes grab,And capture this moment within them. …

Treacherous Fire Pit

Swirling aimlessly,Drowning in the oceanOf the fiery golden liquidTrapped in a treacherous vessel,Bottomless, flavourful quicksand A drink, that’s all I asked for.And it turned out to be theDeepest, darkest trench. Enticing,Exciting,And trapping forever within itself,Like the void filled to the brim,And yet,Making space for a thirsty wanderer,Welcoming into his gruesome demise.

Is this really me?

Is this really me?This blurred cacophony of lines,And curves I see,When I look at the mirror! Smudges and broken edges,Of half-formed features, As the colors drain out of theUndefined bounds and intoThe void of Uncharted shadows. Is this really me?This tangled mess of stringsThat were once thoughts,That marked the way ahead! Going over and under,Abandoning …

The Ultimate Escape.

I’m on an escape, a voyage;Through time, one day at a time.I don’t know the charts,The stars are delusional. And at the far end, at the horizon,Where two lives meet as one,Where wind and the waves clash,The unreachable, blissful death,Of the never ending ocean,The ultimate escape, A voyage for life, through time,One day, at a …

The Answers I Found.

Before you read! – what is an answer without a question, right? Have a look at my previous poem for the questions that this one answers. FIND IT HERE. ENJOY! The old man looked at me funny, smiled a little.He looked fondly at the town, the funny houses.And rolled his knowing gaze at the hills …

The Questions I Had.

The Questions I had when I first saw a somewhat weird town in my dream, A POEM BASED ON A SONG, hope you all enjoy!

4 Lines from Love #6

I am a frozen perished beauty,An incinerating blaze of vexation.I am the petals, and I am the dew,Twinkling quiet, on a blooming carnation.

4 Lines from Love #5

A rare oasis of soothing memories,Or a quiet brook from a thirsty eye.A beautiful prophecy, spanning lives,Or I’m a melodious, beautiful lie.

4 Lines from Love #4

The brightest star at dusk I am,Yet, all I am is a quivering flame.Resent the distances all you may,Yet I am the reward, you wish to claim.

4 Lines from Love #3

Pure beyond the heavens I may be,Mired by riches of a baffled empire.Seldom have I been fairly known,Lost to humanity, who don’t aspire.

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Yes, there are some Hindi poems too. I have tried to add as much explanation along with them as possible, even going as far as trying to translate them. I just hope you all enjoy them.