Tag Archives: Poetry

21st Century Friends

Friends that you’d make,

In the 21st century,

Will be people of an odd kind.

They would not mean hate;

But love,

It would be presented in a puzzle,

With parts that won’t always fit.

 

They will value you,

As a trophy to be won,

As a laurel hung to their necks,

To show to everyone on the way.

And on some days,

They will throw you in the glass showcase,

where you’d still be admired,

But just because you look like a collectible for the eyes.

 

They will hold you like a bistro menu card,

And choose, one by one,

The parts that they will give love to,

And cross off the items,

That don’t sate their appetite,

For which you must be ignored.

 

You will often run

Into the walls of their expectations.

Walls made of tougher stuff than steel,

Walls that’ll never be low enough for you to cross over,

Walls that’ll you’ll be asked to break,

But those walls would only break you.

 

And some off-timers would also see you,

People befitting the definition of people,

Tossed from a bygone era into your life,

For keeping you at bay with things like love

And hope and dreams.

 

But mostly, it’ll be tough to be you,

In people who can’t really stand the ‘you’, that,

They are always asking you to be.

21st century comes with screw-ups in its line of code,

You’d have to learn the language of love,

With many variables,

And very few constants.

 

In A Lawless Land

And, with crossed fingers once, I sat
In a moving train and wondered,
How did the world get itself
In such a rush?
People running in all directions
Blinded by reflections of gold;
While I always found myself wanting
of hope, light or torn shreds, to hold.

And with crossed fingers, I sat,
Waiting, just like everybody else,
Waiting for life to pass by,
Perhaps waiting for someone to come;
Waiting for this season to change,
Looking for shade to hide from the sun;
Waiting for better times to come.

For blood or blissful glory,
Or for completely new lines
For an old bitter story.
For justice of words,
For sinful vengeance or God above;
An ode or a requiem,
A little something for long lost love!

And while I waited,
I forgot about footprints in the sand,
And yet I felt the burden of ages,
Upon the lines of fate,
Lines drawn in the palm of my hand;
And I just sat there hoping,
Hoping for justice, in a lawless land.

The Jewelry Casket

Glistening, gleaming, high-profile gems
That adorn Her Highness’ charm
Enjoy the bubble-like life of glamour
While outside the jewelry casket.

In light, they sparkle
And glitter with delight
But once the party is over
To the dark depths of the casket, they are exiled.

Like these very gems,
Are you and I, my friend,
Like these very gems,
Are all of us.

Taking pleasure in short-lived things
Then returning to the abyss of life.

The darkness, we ourselves have caused
The web of despair, we ourselves have woven
All of this
Is exactly what we ourselves have chosen.

Thought, expression, freedom; Encaged.
Like little canaries.
Enslaved, bonded and shackled
To a life of insanity.

Fathers’ Day Special – Dear Daughter

He’s been giving you love, since the time you didn’t even know what it meant.
He’s spent sleepless nights, that you’ll never know of.
He’s cried countless tears, that you’ll never hear of.
He’s the one who always takes the risk of being disliked back, when he’s correcting you.
He’s here. That’s temporary.
He’ll never ask for your money
Or tell you that he needs your company, irrespective of how much he ends up feeling lonely.
Life is smaller than we think.
Be with him, not just physically.
That’s the least you can do.
Let him know how much you love him.

An Ode To A Dead Street

Somewhere along a misty trail
I sold my shadow for free.
And on the old dead street, I walked
When I gave up in entirety.
Trembling hands gave me
More than my soul could hold
Those feeble words gave me
The burning rage to be bold.
While I dreamt only to forget
You gave me dreams to keep.
And gave me in my waking life
Every dream I saw in my sleep.

Now while you lie silently still
I pray an old song brings you back to life.
And people who once walked on you
Soon walk you by.
Has the world forgotten
The sacrifices of trampled street?
Or its destined creed to care?
That one day when it is deemed unfit to walk,
They just assume you lead nowhere.

So stay.
Stay, stay until the morning light
Stay and we shall reminisce;
Reminisce in the glory of a forgotten night.