Category Archives: Poetry

The place for all your poetry to be shared with the world

At the intersection

At the intersections 

The path is to catch us,

Its name is life.

Live the Moment

Only on this mood,

How much interest backwards

Towards the new floor.

Some flowers will be puffed up, some forks are laid,

Still don’t mind,

It shattered the mind,

Still Walking Tan

Endure every pain

They would have floated over a river of blood.

Memories bloomed,

Dreams were shattered,

The Moment goes on.

The Reverse Has Flown Down To The Seas


Down the hills on the river that flows, a poem lies there, and whatever
That soul of mine reminds me of the lost wanderer
of my thoughts, of the grand memories of my time
with the night-wind, the trees and their lonely presence;
where the sun would rise to the sky now and then.
For the wise said the soul of men will never fall asleep.
And I believe it even now that they fly to the skies often
To meet the Divine and the dearie’s,
And more than the dense forests the secrets they hold may be greater;
And they feed on food from the Heavens.
In my own heart and all my day awake
I see you, as a man born in a fantasy world
Where stones flew; the spirits in a never ending smile
In trees and seas you live, and white clouds..
There the master of many floats.

Your thoughts, cometh through the clouds into the street and beyond,
and I read it as it sets sail
and with a belief that it will never be wrong.
So addictive, the shapes thee maketh for me,
But at weird hours I hear the strange sound of thy hands,
Keep the pace, shall say that little spirit of mine for the fire keeps glowing
And I keep believing.

I will not be lessened amidst the tall and glittering worldly things.
And you all see in me the dying days, the youthful yesterday – the reverse.
She was a menace, you say-
When I walked the thorns, I entered a light, a lovely place to fly and rejoice.


Still I emerge


You wish to swamp me
in the dark ocean of blood
creating a milieu of nebula
Still, like an aura, i’ll emerge.

Does my vigour upset you?
My head held high and raised eyebrow?
The soulful tears I cry
makes you feel am I still decry?

You made me feel debile
when I thought I was whole shebang.
Still, like the petals of a bud
unfolds with the rising sun, I’ll emerge.

Why do you want to make me vapid?
Leaving me cry for nothing but abated?
Why does my pitiable face begets a smile
for someone so ruthless and vile?

You betrayed my trust
with the most afflictive barong.
Still, like the water droplets twinkle
with each ray, I”ll emerge.

Still,
With every sprinkle of hope,
I’ll emerge and shine.
With each tear of love,
I’ll emerge and shine.

© Mehak Gupta Grover
All copyrights reserved

A Gift


Went around searching

the market, the mall, the narrow alley,

all brimming with colourful

bargains to take home.

Went around peeping through the windows

of bedazzling jewellers,

looking for a glittering relic,

to honour you.

Tried much to look into my wardrobe

to part with a special possession of mine.

Tried still to craft a necklace

of the  rare jewels I had collected over the years.

Thought over to present you a token of my talent-

 an immortal melody in my voice,

write a lyric or an ode to our friendship.

But I found them all low for you.

The  pedestal holding our love is high,

Therefore,

my prayer is the only gift

I offer

 in no wrappers,

or sparkling ribbons tied around,

just silence and a glitter in my eye.

Nights and Days

You speak,my love,through furrowed thoughts and I
Hear barbed prayers on a crowded beach:
Wide-eyed at twilight,your searchlight gaze

Brushes aside an edgy fate and falls
Upon a homing bird’s discordant cries–
Moments pass like shadows across your face:

In love brewed through time between old friends
Forgiveness is not a drunken forgotten word
Awake but still asleep on faithless nights and days.

Look up to life

Nights may be dark and dense
And the heart may feel heavy with despair,
May be not a flicker of light around,
And not even a shadow or sound,
Do not fear,if all hopes and lights go out,
The dawn is always there for you.
The life does not end ,at mere losses,
Think not too much of whys and causes.
Let bygones be bygones,think new,stay alive,
Shake off the drops of pain,clinging to you,
light up the candle of hope,let life take up a new strive.
Your feet may tumble,Your pulse may miss,
Say bye to griefs and give dreams a welcome kiss.

The Stranger’s Absence

I recall him saying,

” of all the possible possibilities isn’t it possible

that there being no possibilities is amongst them? “

To which I countered,

” We cling obsessively to those pieces of a jigsaw

we’ve somehow come to accumulate by chance,

accident or ulterior design, only for those pieces

never to fall into place or even bear any resemblance

to a discernible outline or pattern or a promise of coherence. “

I contemplate the solitary glass of absinthe

that sits forever stationary on a marble top table,

un-paid for and un-drunk until The Stranger returns,

and quaffs it savouring the liquid’s unique indifference

as it surges down his gullet;

We are only led to imagine such things

because we imagine that the Stranger,

long since absconded into the obscurity of the world-at-large

might somehow re-appear unannounced as if by chance,

fate or ulterior design,

And then we might recommence the desultory dialogue,

the Stranger and me

that dialogue which he chose peremptorily to abandon

with his trademark flaneur disquieting insouciance;

and so I sit and toy with the pieces of jigsaw

left me as a memento or perhaps not,

some pieces are clearly missing and

the glass of absinthe requires that I pay for it.

……………………………………………………………………..

Author’s footnote:

My previous poems featuring “The Stranger” are

The Stranger,One Last time ( 23/4/2019 )

A Stranger Returns (23/4/2018 )

Encounter with a Stranger ( 3/10/2017 )

Hope

A LOOK AT LIFE-53
BY – SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY

            HOPE

Hope keeps hope alive,
hoping against hope keeps one going.
On the thorny path of life a friend indeed
without which one can hardly live and proceed.

Hope is the life of the sailor in the boisterous sea, eyes of the blind, ears and tongue of the deaf and dumb, an oasis in the dry desert, an unusual summer shower and the silver moon in the dark sky.

On hope stands life,
in hope, we enter into a relationship,
in hope we act and interact,
in hope we dream, live and die

Things never happen as we wish,
misfortune comes and shatters the basis.
In the midst of darkness nothing but a ray of hope guides, without which life becomes too heavy a burden to carry and relish.

People come and go, things, moments and relationships are for a period, nothing remains with you expect hope, your trusted friend always with you forever in every summer and winter.

You may lose name, fame, favour and fortune, but with your hope alive always a chance a get them back soon.
Losing hope is like committing suicide,
surrendering before the enemy and give up the fight.

©smrutiranjan 20.9.2018

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