Saturday, February 12, 2011

Alcoholic anonymous


For a friend who is almost perpetually drunk
in every sense of the word.

Have you seen one
Walking in a daze
Hair in disarray
From inebriate craze.
Have you seen one
Of unsteady stride
Clutching at his fears
As they deride.
Have you seen one
Rambling prayers
Peeling from his heart
Calloused layers.
Have you seen one
At the red horizon
Drunk and drowning
In his bitter poison.

I have seen one
Quite like you say
Hair in disarray
Drunk each day.
Drunk in glee
Like a child with the world,
In the palm of his hand
Lovingly curled.
Drunk in passion
Like a musician's note
Searching for freedom
From a singers throat.
Drunk in wisdom
Like a gust of snow
That comes like epiphany
And stays evermore.

I have seen one
Drunk to the brim
But never seen another
Drunk like him.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The Phoenix and the Bug

The Phoenix lives for a thousand years,
And then jumps into the fire to be born again.

The bug molts, discards its old unfitting ugly skin
And wears a new garb.

Why does the Phoenix immolate himself ?
What is it that he wants to wipe away
From the memory of four hundred thousand days?
What does it want to forget ?
And what is the point of being born again,
If you cannot use your experiences ?
If you have to learn all lessons all over again ?
Maybe he will learn them better this time,
But he will never know that.

Why does the bug shed its skin ?
What blemish does it have on his body, what scar,
That he wants to remove, what new avatar
Does he want to adopt?
And what is the point of changing the garb,
If you cannot change your memories?
For they have the deepest wounds.
Maybe he will look like someone else
But he will never be so.

The Bug is real.
The Phoenix is only fantastic.

(I am a bug)



P.S. The last line should not have been there. But it sounded so funny in my head that I had to put it. I put a parenthesis to reduce the comic effect. But this is supposed to be a serious poem ok ? If it makes you laugh, feel free to :P 

Thanks

I thank you, for the gifts you give
I forget to thank, for what you do not,
I thank you, for the sunlit days,
For the cloudy ones, I thank not.
I thank you, for the times you stand by me,
I forget to thank, for the lonely seasons.
I thank you, for giving me, a life to live,
I forget to thank, for all the reasons.
I thank you for being the God I pray,
I forget to thank you, almost always,
For being me, at the end of the day.

Stillborn

I pushed it out of my belly,
Almost breathless,
I picked it up, a bloodied mass,
Turned it over, looked at it from all sides
I twisted it, stretched it, crushed it,
Does it grow ? Does it shrink,
Is it warm, is it cold, soft, hard?
Then I tossed it out in to the sea,
It was my child,
Fathered by Love,
I called it Pain.

An Ode to Autumn Leaves

This is the ode, I have been so wanting to write all these days. I have done a really bad job i am sure, and it is not even a proper ode. I wanted it to sound a little archaic, so that is intentional. Though originally I had planned to write it with Thee's and Thou's, but discarded the idea.

Beautiful they are, but vain and evanescent.
The expensive accessories of the spring,
Are lost soon, when the windy harbinger
News of the approaching winter brings,
You stand tall and watch as the grass
Turns brown and barren, on the ground below
The dead flowers shall soon be covered,
With a cold and frozen shroud of snow.
But before the winter can obliterate
All colors, all cheer, you try once last
To mellow the acceptance of impending fate,
To remind of the beauty of the spring gone past,
You change your hues, as if on fire, yet mild,
And you surpass the spring in so many ways,
For soon you shall fall, be crumpled, stepped on
But yet you set yourself ablaze.

Winter

I have left my door ajar this night,
For you.
Let me dance this last time,
And then you can thrust your icy dagger
In the hollow of my chest.
No red shall stain your white garb
I promise
And as I die in your arms,
Do sing me a song,
For Love,
Have you not lived,
In my heart for long ?

Chili Peppers and Moonlight


I like the days,
Not because they are bright and sunny,
But because they are all different.
I like the wind in the trees, and how it makes them sway
Appears to me, like they are sharing some joke
Falling over each other laughing.
Sometimes I can even hear them play a symphony
Or dance a ballet,
Even when I am on the other side of the glass.
My apartment has a little patio,
There is a little potted plant, at the base of the steps
Not mine.
It bears red hot chili peppers, really red!
I see it everyday when I leave for work, 
It looks like a big red flower, makes me smile.

I like the nights,
Not because they are dark,
But because they are all so enchanting
I like the crickets of the night as much
As I like the butterflies of the day
There is a lot of screaming in the night,
Screams of neon signs, screams of car headlights
Screams of light bulbs from glass windows.
But the night steals behind me and whispers,
"Don't scream, just... dissolve!"
And then when I go under the covers
The moonlight streams in through my drawn down blinds
And gives me a kiss.
Well, it's only the light from the adjacent apartment
But under the covers, it feels the same.

This is my world.
Where colors are not the monopoly of flowers,
Where music is not necessarily heard,
Where moonlight is not the prerogative of the moon.
I can share it with you, a bit
Only as long, you don't come by and say
"This ain't the real thing".