You can have it all!
Drink perfume &
smell like milk
Dance your witch dance
everybody screams
at the greats always.
Don’t dance
to the music of mere men.
Drink deep.
kiss a few kraken
join the oldest religion
Not in Florence
nor in the machine
But love.
The soothing magic of it all
Makes you finally belong
I keep rubbing
A phantom gland
Maybe muscle memory
Its no aladdin's lamp
All i feel is sore
Crying for once more.
Maybe its not a portal
But a wound
we have overcome
Maybe now its time
To stop hearing
And start listening
Begin once again.
A grown up baby
is not grotesque
Its just groot.
So
Inhale the music
The scent of today!
Get goosebumps
Heck! Even enid blyton
Lets catch smugglers in
Mysterious moors
Please just hold that magnifying glass
Very tight
On the famous five senses
You will be born again
And this time you will dance.
(My tribute to Ars Poetica by Archibald Macleish which made me sit up and notice a poem)
A poem is a globed fruit
palpable yet mute
Can borrow a few words
How cute!
Honest yet not straightforward
need not be attached to any rhyme scheme
Just needed to externalise the inner scream
of a once ignored teenager
Just open the floodgates
A spontaneous overflow of my repressed emotions
An abstract art of mythical proportions
makes the melancholy of a monotone
sound rich like a broadway baritone.
A poem need not be
A masterpiece , a marvel
An idea so novel
that there are odes written to it.
It can simply be
A moment in time crystallised with words
A gasp of the gut
So well put
that you thought someone put their hand down your throat
and pulled it out
like a rabbit from
a hat
or a hole
A poem is a sieve
which separates the chaff from the grain
A pensieve
and a penmanship on pain.
( In response to What's going on? Blog's Poetry is prompt)
Very often (in life) we substitute
(not immediately
but over time)
our primary source of gratification.
The validation I crave
as addicting as nicotine
now comes from work
and not anymore from my
creatively crafted words
but now my 'cleverly' drafted words.
Not camaraderie from my friends
but companionships with The One.
Rather than be filled with guilt
over these ever moving tectonic plates
and drama fought over
the shifting shapes of time,
graceful acceptance
of what we have now
and not just redundant regret
over what we once had in the past
Acknowledge
that even though the past lives only in our heads
albeit rent free
We are still very much alive
and can be our own tertiary delights
keeping us balanced
in the right line of sane
Like only old friends can.
Written for the PU prompt ' Substitutions'
I am publishing my works after a break and I thank everyone who encouraged me to start writing and sharing it again!
Some pics of the first digitally handwritten draft
What does April mean
to me?
To start at the
beginning
A bit cliché
Summer Holidays!
Gully Cricket and
lemon juice
Life didn’t give us
lemons back then
Only lemon juice
And boy how we drank
it!
Not a care in the
world
Sticky mess all over
once white shirts and
Broken beach castles
and sand filled shoes
You should also know
that
April in Chennai was a
month of heat
A month to quite
literally sink in your teeth
And grab a juicy bite
of watermelon or mango
That’s how life tasted
like.
April is also the
month
When I stumbled upon
writing
26th April
2010
A blog was born.
I felt the joy of
creating something
My digital Disneyland
Every post a joyride
Traversing as per my
thoughts.
April later still
remains a month of joy
Albeit filled with
chaos.
A period of gold rush
Before the courts
close for may .
I still experience
summer holidays
Albeit mixed with the
beginning of the new financial year.
April has now made a
full circle.
The month I again
established something
Which will hopefully
remain immortal
Like this blog.
My new law firm
Saaki Legal estd
15.04.2024
A watermelon or mango
of love, labour and joy!
Is it what I feel?
What I’m left with at
the end?
A thing or an emotion?
A subtle sense of
pride
Of besting the beast?
Or the harrowing pain
Of the tear in my
stomach
Leaking more pain than
I ever could handle?
Is it the result?
Or my reaction to the
result?
What if I won Kashmir
but
Lost the election?
Is it universal or
personal?
A zero sum game
I am a hero sometimes.
It is how I sleep at
night.
It can be neither
but actually it is both.
I put pen on paper
with blind hope that
muscle memory will lead me further.
While flexible poses fashioned my flighty youth,
I can feel the rigid rigor mortis
setting upon the dusk of my adulthood.
Ah! I can indeed survive by merely scrolling
and autotyping
and generally not using my brain.
Play nostalgic games
cocooned in comfort
in beer bosom.
Do the same work and
not get off the treadmill
even when I know
I am never going anywhere
on this broken machine.
I know I can but should I?
If the dart is hitting the middle of the forehead
maybe it is time to skateboard off to
an unknown vortex!
Thanks to Sunday muse for this amazing visual prompt!
A stitch in time
Saves nine
Then
Three stitches should be fine
To claim what is mine.
Us.
2 Equal halves
From different hemispheres
A tectonic shift
Perpetrated by a single thread
A simple yes.
An apple a day
The adam and eve way
Keeps us healthy and gay.
The harder I tug
Stronger the hug
The prickly institution
needles us now and then
A needed constitution
It keeps us grounded and in zen.
Reclaim
Rekindle
Rebirth
A beautiful prompt for the new year 2023 by Poet's and storyteller's united
Resolution
 |
Rising
from water
I
rinse my soul
Of
uncleanly remnants
Belonging
to a rabid past.
I
emerge calmer than
the
wind which breathed
Life
to my nose
Regaling
gales which knocked
my
wind before
will
just leave my soul sour
I
pledge to do that no more.
Fresh
start
From
ashes apart
Will
bear fruit
Only
if you stop being everyone’s favorite fool
Be
ugly, Be astute.
What is cozier than a
Comforter on a cold day
A glass of hot chocolate
Steam slowly rising
Kindled by the warmth of your smile
Bleeding heart
Don’t let it start
It will never stop,
Till it one day drops.
Then please bring out the
harps
and the orchestra and what not.
Nature or nurture?
Just cannot escape these
vultures
Feasting on the flesh of my
heart
At one point I just let it to
rot
Forgetting they were cannibals
after all.
So better to bleed boldly
My love and care and worries
Along with the hemoglobin
Towards humanity & you
Than zombify myself
And project coolness
Only to be lifted on a coffin
On the way out.
My
Bloody heart beats for you
&
Bleeds for humanity
Bends down for humility &
Bombards for atrocity
Blood is a sign of oxygen
pumping
Bathing out our concern in a
Bright red colour.
Pain is a sign of growing
Past the vultures
Who are a sign of success.
Keep feeling
One day it will lead to
fruitful action.
For PSU's Prompt - Ordinary.
Is there anything more
humane?
Than a man mourning
the mundane
Yet finding comfort in
routine
Quite routinely I must
say.
Wanting to reach for
the stars
From earth his leg
goes far
Is there a more
humbling force than gravity?
The elegant equalizer
Electromagnetically
pulls into
A simpler direction –
Inward.
The outer pieces of
the puzzle
Are easier to solve
But as we move inward
We find in ourselves
the good shepherd
Giving out the true
reward –
The meaning of it all.
You would be amazed
To know
What you thought was a
maze
Was just a craze
Caused by your dire
daze
Only within the
ordinary
You would find Life’s
dictionary.
The lines of your palm
Are laced with napalm
You will keep
searching for calm
Yet your hands will
keep you warm
From a world full of
harm.
Your path you walk is
only yours
Your umbrella cannot
protect you
From the puddles
underneath
You will weather the
wet &
Become a bonafide vet.
You will survive,
You are destiny’s
child
The roads you walk
will
Always be the ones not
taken
Not out of sheer
rebelery
But an innate sense of
revelry
So child!
Don’t rely on fate,
Your destiny is in your hands.
is what I would want my palm reader to say xD
Every human being
needed to eat, stay safe and warm and be away from harm. Homogenity drove us
together. Then a problem of surplus ensued and greed followed so much so that
civilization had to be formed with rules and laws and punishment. Groups of
people who all had the same needs wanted more land to thrive, another group of
people with the same needs fought them back. War ensued frequently , what was
once simple was never once more that. Power breeds corruption and so now the
flocks of people had to face attacks from outside AND civil wars inside.
The drudgery of daily
life and the meaninglessness of it all drove the common man to hedonistic
temptations. Soon the pursuit of wants over needs became the motto of the
society. By indulging in these short term gains, the search for self
actualization was lost till it was too late to search anymore. Only terminal
illness or major disaster brought any reflection at all. Whole nations just
wanted more instead of loving less.
We started
differentiating with each other more, even when people went communist there
were no equals. Repressed anger exploded societies. Human beings now have
naturally selected within themselves to differentiate between their own
species. Hierarchy has existed at every institution always to the detriment of
the perceived weaker sections.
Moments of individual
kindness and collective crisis of the conscience are rare but what keeps this
species afloat. Even when in an era of purported peace all we do is turn a
blind eye to every other atrocity so that it won’t burn our bubbles to shreds.
War or peace, we need to be conscious and content more.
I thought I was making the right choice
At that time
You ticked all the boxes
on paper
Soon
I was boxed into a corner
Crushed by your corny love
Heck I wasn’t even horny no more.
I decided to sleepwalk through life
If I opened my eyes truly
We both knew
This would be already over
You lovingly blindfolded me
I loathingly cuckolded you.
I woke up one day
And decided to live the truth
Consequences be damned
I still remember your cries
As I sunk into my sofa
We were away by so far
Yes
I never deserved this
Kind of love
But you said
I’m incapable of love
Called me a robot
The only time you spoke your mind
Was when I was leaving you behind.
I bleed too.
I’m thriving now
Hope you are too
Unfiltered Spam
Not, Not a nasceant napalm
ruffles the roots
ever so slightly
With weathered feathers
She grimaces very very quietly.
Right now
Appearances are all that matter
Turbulence inside closed barks
screaming into a plywood pillow
hurricane hovers around the whomping willow.
She survived
a heightened high school war
the evil nature's call
Will she will continue to stand tall
after every fucking fall?
Completed 12 years of blogging last week :)
