Tag Archives: Confession

Confessions of a Poet

I may sound wise,
but I’m not always so.
I may seem evolved,
but I have pitfalls too.

My best love songs,
don’t make me romantic.
They enthral me sometimes,
but don’t always give a kick.

A beautiful poem doesn’t
make me a perfect person.
For in the ocean of my flaws,
it’s just a wave of perfection.

I have my moments,
I have my quirks,
I get hurt too and
behave like a jerk.

I am as human
as human can be.
But when poetry comes,
it’s not just me.

Although it may seem like
it’s coming ‘from’ me,
the real truth is that,
it’s coming ‘through’ me.

I learn as much
in the process of writing
as you all do
in the moment of reading.

I sometimes don’t practise
the wisdom of my own writing.
For I often falter, slip and fall
before I get up and get going.

But when I fall below the line,
I’m aware of the missed track.
My writing becomes my mirror
that I can’t face, until I’m back.

My poems become my beacon
that draws me out of the dark;
when I’m finally out in the sun,
they sing merrily like a lark.

Confession of a Monk

A monk is lying on his death bed.

His transient moments filled with a last wish.

Before life bid adieu he wished to have a confession.

A confession of being a monk!

 

You called me – ‘a monk, a sage, a saint’.

But I have hiccup an utter guilt

An abhorrence of these nouns as taunt

With chocking breaths impatiently I am waiting for my last.

 

A sudden ignition of erudite vision broke the fortress

Erasing all notions between a monk and a human being

On nomadic trajectory wore and worn out attire

Peeling illusions one by one from wrinkled skin.

 

New found wisdom defines human being

Glorifying Free-Will in a nut shell

 

Even the Almighty never put any hamstring

to thy swirl of myriad temptations.

Lustrous human desires never spared

for the monk in me often consumed

the so called sins shielding as excuses.

 

Deep down in burdened silence going on

arguments and counter arguments

resulting in paralysis of analysis.

I fled and shun the ironical echoes.

 

Mask of saint plunged

When all preaching failed

The lie I was living buried alive.

From the grave it mocked back like a ghost.

For I am back to square one with the stark truth..

 

Today I am laughing and telling the story as a layman

Whilst discarding all bifurcation of zenith and nadir.

The realisation liberated me with an ultimate truth

And I remain on my death bed with shallow breathes.

 

As quanta parallels the dualism

Oh desires! To live, have the doping of foul play!

 

“Let me die as human being and not a monk” !

 

The candid confession of a dying monk

escaped the cage of mortality

when he breathed his last..

 

© Maaya Dev

 

 

 

 

 

 

Introspection..!

I am alive like many

I confess often, I am blessed naively

I love to believe all is well within my life

Yet a part of me don’t belong to me fully

It longs for something I am not blessed with

I float on unfulfilled desires and dreams all the while

As if my life is on a constant rollercoaster of myriad questions.

 

I am alive like many

I state always I am a content human being

The superficial statement is anchored in lie

The tread of my life I am forced to cling on.

Yet a part of me is dissatisfied and looks for more

A sense of guilt pricks my conscience for wanting more

A constant comparison with many is weighing down the worth.

 

Am I truly alive like many?

For the first time I look into my life deeply

It looks plain and very much mundane, I realised

I am almost certain I am just breathing but not living

A part of me is very much human but lacks vigour of life

Life replay on its loop displaying same scenes in the memory lane

It yearns for right answer to put an end to many unanswered queries.

 

At the end, I solved the puzzle convincingly.

When my vision notices beauty around and appreciate it

When the bestowed blessings are appreciate with a pure heart

When the heart fills with love and compassion and flows to reach people

When I do things with upmost dedication without bothering the result

When I see the worth in self and try to improvise where it needs attention

That’s only when I shall honestly confess that I live life happily and contently.

 

 © Maaya Dev