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Poetic Interlude - Page 3

  • O death, come on wings to me!

     

    I'm such a coward I don't have the courage to kill myself,‎

    But now would be the appropriate time to exonerate oneself,
    Of all the sins one has committed against all that is right and true,
    Not being honest, sincere, having integrity and a genuine clue.
     
    Why is life so hard in circles, periodically, without fail?
    I had made myself happy with myself, no company, no male.
    I thought joblessness was freedom, the will to work- sacred,
    Little did I know that the world and even my family judged me by balance sheet's red.
     
    I can't seem to do anything right, everything is judged,
    Over 3 decades on this planet, and my actions are still misread.
    Death doesn't come so swiftly to the likes of me, wishing it were here,
    No, I gotta learn lessons, nothing that is easy, all that is severe.
     
    I'm really tired, my hair's turning white, not gray,
    Everything is hurt- my vanity, pride and feelings astray.
    Is this depression, or cowardice on an individual level?
    I dunno if I should apologise, express anger or grovel.
     
    I've not accomplished anything at all, professionally or personally,
    My parents still spend sleepless night worrying over me dismally.
    A handful of people shall make it for my eventual funeral,
    I haven't touched more lives, nor made a difference, that's real.
     
    Just a speck of the universe, as immaterial as when I was born,
    Life hasn't made any difference, the kernel still stuck to the corn.
    My parents told me different, I was meant to be special,
    Do big things, touch lives, influence people and die admirable.
     
    I don't have proud parents, a fulfilling job, or a man that wishes to marry me,
    Oh, isn't this the bottom of the pit, time to put an end to misery?
    But I don't have the strength, the courage to make it happen,
    My wits, my sensors, my wants, I guess, just didn't manage to sharpen.
     
    I neither know how to end this existence, nor this piece of poem,
    Go out with a bang, not a fizzled fuze, just show 'em.
    Of all my written words, alas this is one doused in tears,
    Heartache, depression n bleakness- that's the wisdom of my years.

  • Conversation with Self

    I rub my sleeve over the mirror,

    And the steam gets wiped clean,

    But I can't still see my reflection,

    Or the gleaming mirror's sheen.

     

    It's like there’s a fog in the distance,

    And clouds further beyond the fog,

    Sure it can try all of its might,

    But the sun shall really have to slog.

     

    Anyway, since the mirror's no good,

    I try to touch and feel my face,

    Yeah, everything seems quite alright,

    But something's certainly outta place.

     

    It's just a feeling, an instinct, rather,

    Do you know what I'm talking about?

    If the eyes hide an unspoken shame,

    The mouth's not going to call it out.

     

    Hang on there, I don't really get it,

    What's this unspoken shame u mention?

    I grew up sister, do you remember,

    I'm not an insolent child in detention?

     

    I'm practically flying amongst angels,

    With my permanent fixture - the halo,

    Since I'm kinda very high up there,

    All the fellow mortals seem, way low.

     

    Supposedly, I have the better life,

    My pasture, always the greener one,

    The past is full of achievements,

    And the present, just full of fun.

     

    Nah, that's just the brain fooling ya,

    U don't believe that's really the deal?

    At the end of the day, your choice,

    But why not have the truth revealed?

     

    The past is fine and the present would do,

    But the future's the real question mark,

    You don't have a plan, no clue at all,

    Trust me, it's going to be quite stark.


    What got you here, The Lord alone knows,

    You can confuse it with 'your' actions,

    You haven't really progressed in life,

    Not even moved ahead a mere fraction.

     

    You can call it contentment or destiny,

    As you choose either of the two pretence,

    You're really not fooling anyone else,

    I wouldn't call it the soundest defense.

     

    Being human is all about the action,

    Holding the verb right in your hands,

    Use it as a shovel, a sword or a pen,

    Whether it's your career or romance.

     

    Hmm, okay, you got a point there,

    But I'm not debating it's veracity,

    I put in all my might whatever I do,

    Sometimes the question is the capacity.

     

    There are just so many lessons to learn,

    The platter sometimes is about that full,

    Sometimes you just need to take a break,

    From the perpetual heart and mind duel.

     

    It certainly is no reason or type of shame,

    The eyes must have better things to hide,

    Don't be so hard on your poor self always,

    While you're on it, just enjoy the ride.

     

    The face is fine and so is the mirror,

    Sometimes it's just that the eyes are tired,

    For what we can't see, we tend to fear,

    To doubt ourselves, we seem to be wired.

     

    Take it easy my oh-so vulnerable sistah,

    I guess it's 'balance' u may wanna chase,

    Smile, cry, feel, think and all that you do,

    Just remember that life's really no rat race!

  • Heaven

    Crying with my heart;
    Smiling with my eyes;
    Whistling in my mind;
    Stifling all my sighs.

    Out of body feeling,
    Shiver down my spine;
    Thoughts escape to my lover,
    For whose presence I pine.

    Earth, water and air,
    Are building a fire.
    Visible, but out of touch,
    Pulsating the desires.

    Heaven deep within me,
    In the valley of bliss,
    Smooth touch of the wind,
    Like a tender loving kiss.

    Words now escape me,
    Inarticulately I just feel,
    As I close my eyes to see heaven,
    The headiness makes me reel.