Category Archives: Strings from the Pen

The Ache of Azure

Chaos is in order

The string has broken its chord

As insanity dances freely

the truth is over awed

As rain washes itself in the sea

Mountains dissolve in the sand

Humanity chases itself

While Hand demands a hand

From the last death comes the first cry

Living becomes a panorama of sorrow

If such be the plight today

What comes of ringing tomorrow ?

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Eclectic Evening

There is an acquainting emptiness on the ground

Absolute filling in the sky

As I sit as if in a

And time elapses by….

For once the world and I are apart

The walk of age has arrested

Silence clenches the throbs of a heart

The moment for a breath has rested

Up and up this feeling goes

As down and down goes height

I would be silent, with silent toes

Stay elated all night…

Dimming eyes and airs deep

I wait to live my eternal sleep…

Infirmity

Life through a dire frame

Captures an image grey,

None so weak to pangs of pain,

As a voluntarily captured prey.

He sits under a dripping shed,

With lost and wanton eyes,

He hears hope drift away,

Through the cold hides.

 

Drops of rain awake the soul,

The defeated spirit laments,

For a glory not achieved,

For the loss of a flower’s scent.

 

Crawling nights and escaping days,

The fragile frame rests,

The darkest skies of the world

Can now his mind behest.

 

Clinging chains and unheard cries,

A thirst which does never suffice,

For he is now only left to see,

Glimpses of life in moments’ spree.

For there is none so taken to ire,

Than he who burns in desire.

A ghastly grasp, an unthinkable fire,

The sunken valley near a mountain pyre.

The Elegy of a Man and Stray

Even though I have never been blessed with a four-legged friend, I felt like dedicating a word to their companionship.

In the cold, all light and grey,

The story of a man and stray.

No thing can give the warm bed

To the one left alone at birth,

Than what he gets from crumbs of bread

And a wooden, shiny hearth.

Owning just a tea shop

The Man himself is not unbound,

Family of four lovely lives

Comfort, though is not profound.

In the world all large and held,

Two lives that strangely dwelled.

Give life to each other at dawn,

And meet daily in a phantom lawn.

Thus, the bodies of godly love,

Chat under the sunshine dove.

Complement each other’s new start,

And all these talks are just in hearts.

Yet the two solitary loons

Tired of life, meet at noons.

Eat food and share with each

In a language no one can teach.

Dawn of the day soon ends,

And as dark, the moon sends

The Man begins to leave for home

His humble place, his only dome.

Funny though how he waits

In the cold that kills and shakes.

To farewell his four-legged friend

As he comes from the farther end.

Giving the crumbs the man proclaims,

“We’ll meet again” to whom he tames.

After dinner they leave again,

To end their life’s new begin.

Thus this way the two stay,

And ponder my pen as dawn’s gay.

For is it only life that lays,

The love between man and strays?

Or is it in the times of need

That men can find stray friends indeed…..

The Roadside Stand (Revisited)

My earnest dedication to my favorite poet, Robert Frost from whom I have borrowed the title of this poem.

Of all the amazing places I see

The roadside stand is just for me!

Girls and boys and poles that stand,

And a crawling marriage band.

Of all the noise and laugh and glee,

The roadside stand is just for me!

Numerous memories made and shared,

With friends and foes and all that cared.

Oh! I also get to see with grace,

Some exquisite, foreign face.

But they can’t seem to fulfill my plight,

More than a roadside gentlemen’s fight.

While riding home I get to see,

Why the roadside stand is just for me!

Life moves on that’s all we know,

But when I’m bad and can’t let go,

The only thing that makes me right,

Is a roadside stand in sight.

Various relations made and torn,

Various voices of glee and groan.

Where all the world’s happiness does gather,

In a soothing pleasant weather.

Just like Robert Frost once said,

To see an adventure, get out of bed.

So that’s when I fold my feet and hand,

And lookout for a roadside stand.

To pass my window pane that’s all

And leave me curious till my Conductor’s Call.

 

Do let me know how you interpret the roadside stand in the Comments Section!

A Memento

It is often in the most grievous storms

When all the trees lie down

That one little sap, in solitary gloom

Smiles wide above the ground.

It smiles because what winds couldn’t shake

Holds him firmly by its feet

It laughs because what the sun couldn’t break

Protects him while he chuckles his teeth…

In the gush of joy, he wildly sways

For the hopeless has found a hope

Like a drop of dew that wanders to the flower

To hide its bloom and elope.

Little Happy Things

The smallest, merriest things are they

Looking at you, I suppose

Your charm be equal to what words of play

A poem or a goofy prose!

That little squirrel pecking her tail

Slumbers as i look and laugh

I wonder how you changed my pale

When compared to my books you’re half!

I glare at the moon and its mangata

I’m assured like begets like

As it shaky curves upon the water

Draw a curve on my face as a smile!

The swirling wasps and swinging bee

Present a choir that I see

While my nearest neighbour, the ‘mosquito’

Won’t stop buzzing the chords to me!

The giggling tree consoles me

Happiness is but such small

Its ladder grows towards peace

Flourishing at the cusp of pall.

And even though nothing makes sense

Life and its troublesome caricature

But yet it will someday when you know

Only in bedlam is Nature…!!