Tag Archives: hope

Chimera

I am raving mad

At nights, when you swoop down

On my sleep from the dismal chill

Of delusions

When I walk down the souvenirs

Of abandonment

An unnerving iciness

Creeping through my spine.

.

I hear the frothy laughter

Of the Id

The disquiet tuning it’s trumpet

From across the forbidden lands

And forbidden love

Blowing softly in the wind

The tunes of hers owned

And my desire

To die for.

.

I know I am raving mad

When I embrace this soulless night

For the wishful firefly

And yet I do

With the spectres

Of a begone tale

And undying hope

That’ll never leave my side.

The Corridor

If words do heal, if words are prayers

If words are love, if words have powers

Let me stop by the corridor with my pen.

The corridor that binds us beyond the boundaries

Irrespective of colour, caste, creed and nation

where compassion embalm the bruised seamlessly.

Who doesn’t know, pain has same taste and feel?

Yet we live it as much as our heart bears it.

When the fire in the heart is bright and burning

When inner whispers constantly remind us

Nothing can put a stop, as  life has to go on..

Any tragedy marks a new beginning for a better life.

It embraces fresh dreams to build a beautiful life.

The invincible spirit of indomitable will

ready to kiss tomorrow’s sun with enthusiasm

Like how a phoenix rising from ashes to touch sky

believing in the power of hope and life.

With frozen tears we dare to rewrite our destiny

We realise no tremors can quiver our spirit forever.

At the corridor with compassionate heart and prayers

With courage and desire we walk towards renaissance

To live over again with smile on face as if nothing had happened

and whatever happened is bygone or just a nightmare of last night.

© Maaya Dev

The Dungeon

trees image

A small kid in the dungeon,

Stuck in pitch dark and silence,

She thinks she is blind,

Suddenly after days of darkness,

A ray of light hits her eyes,

A sound of hope, a touch of love.

Makes her happy,

A voice calls her,

She runs towards the door,

And pushes it wide open,

To her surprise it just needed a slight push,

A whole new world of happiness opened.

Behind her a world of darkness, and ahead her a world full of brightness,

At the threshold life looked so beautiful.

© Copyright 2015 Rashmi S. Malapur All rights reserved.

Click by Amit Bose; © Copyright 2015 Amit Bose All rights reserved.

To Acceptance

Acceptance, a silver lining of hope

Shines on the overcast sky of anonymity.

Acceptance tumbles up like bubbles,

Floating on the thick broth of negation.

Hope is the new dream of salvation

We hug tight, like golden leaves

Falling before the snow.

We are all worn off branches,

Old skeletons hanging in cold streets.
So long, death!

Do leave us, clinging to a new life,

Do let the light of dawn

Enter our rooms as kindly visitors.

Acceptance is the Fairy Godmother waving her magic wand,

We follow her, with tailor-made clothes, smiles and steps

With custom-made music and melodies

To the wishes of warmer times.

I drift away from this room, away from

The last corpse of rejected mess.

Acceptance is my winged chariot,

I hop and skip my failed, belittled days.

I soar, I sparkle, I am one

With the lilac and honeysuckle of hope.

Footnotes: Sharing this tiny, fledgling tinge of inspiration that comes with being accepted and embraced by some, amidst challenging times of rejection and apathy. A toast raised to the unexpected acceptances, an assurance that a silver lining of hope is waiting at the end of the road. And yes, though this poem is written in July, it holds special meaning now, after being accepted to the International community of Destiny Poets 🙂

 

 

Perhaps…

Perhaps
A sliver of moonlight
Is all I am~
Lighting your heart
In the night,
Waning at the dawn
Of a new day…

Perhaps
An ephemeral white lily
Is all I am~
Lighting your eyes
So wildly,
Yet myself withering
By twilight…

Perhaps
A whiff of fragrance
Is all I am~
Awakening your soul
To the elegance
That is of love alone,
Yet you sleep…

Perhaps
The gleam of a dewdrop
Is all I am~
Kissing your eyes
With new hope,
But remembered only until
The day takes me…

– Sana Rose

The Elusive Wait

 

Ceremoniously sharpened wrought iron knife
His deity of duty, just taken out from the
Ayudha pooja~Viswakarma ritual
Spot on the tender meat, ripping apart
Such a perfectionist executor he seems

Flawless cuts even in his deepest sleeps!
Violent tearing jet of gushing acoustics
Irritating even the slightest ear chords
Imagine, it’s music to the ears, to the other one
He’s a god personified to the other one
The one always like an ardent disciple
On his aisle, with the humbled disposition
Gleaming eyes, filamentous spiny
Moustaches, rather a vase on the face
The felinity obscured by a meditating innocence
All focussed on his locus -the chopped bits torqued in air
Bits of meat are worth his lifetime wait
A curious wait with a grabbing hope
Short time satiety though worth the wait!
This cat wait is no catwalk or a cake walk
For it’s the entire hard earned wait against all
His god man’s abuses, crow-dog fightings
Personified with politeness yet aggressive and alert!

 
Just nearby another cemented platform mound
Lucky one I would define, always a profound
Palanquin for a rustic beauty queen of unique sorts
Whom I ever spot her only at the hours of twilight
Her glimmering lipshades and flashing drapes
Involuntarily pulling at ease all eyes’attention
Irony though are her floating eyes in mourning lyrical
One can feel her hapless heart in spite of her lustrous wait
A wait that she never wants to realise the fruition
A wait still which has to end up in shameful body edition!

 
Next street corner, my milestone for years
Is a haunting bony face,old and frail
seated with a grace, on his coveted Ferrari
of his life, the sliding hand pulled rickshaw!
He looks uploaded with loads of acute solitude
Sadness and gloom mapped all over with no gratitude
His unblinking eyes and a big black mole right on the nose
Makes him a roughened stone face, yet one would melt on
His dry straw hairs and  banyan-lungi with innumerous holes
He too waits for those eyes in the crowd, who can make
A hail, just for his mere penniless hand to mouth life..
He seems to wait, not just for that, but wait for
Something more, not  a mere traveller, but a
Life changer carrier who can profusely not,
atleast diffuse a small speck of his forgotten dreams,
childish cheers and a deck of simple happiness !
A wait wrapped inside his wait is what I see in
The poor man’s eyes, so cloudy and hazy.

 
All too short, lost a loved soul, many out there
Just like me, who too wait for a long long haul
which even the wondrous wait too weep and envy!
Wait my mind,let me wonder what is wait
Hope and time, both the entities of  extreme
Abstracts fused  into a frame and theme,
Time runs wild with no stops and stones
Hope unstunned remains to make the wait
Just elongate and reach almost infinite
A wait like a tabulated anorexic diet
so  severe, crude and a life-taking ticket,
A wait so obscure still it promulgates
Its longevity,  leading to its calm continuity
Starting like a trivial infinitesimal into an
Enormously self-swallowing infinity!