The knight of life: love

 

A mysterious longing

smolders through the day

and burns at night,

An exciting anticipation,

An unsparing desire,

The pores of your skin

humming with excitement.

 

A feeling of remarkable audacity,

which makes you unbothered about the

usual jostle and hustle of life,

Something looks straight into your eyes,

And you flinch, get tamed and surrender

to a gleaming, flashy star.

 

Your identity gets focused

in the chaos and hubbub of life,

You stand apart,

It even makes you feel proud,

even haughty,

to own this exclusive excitement,

You slyly smile,

A warmth spreads through you,

Melts the clods of uneasiness,

Overpowers your molecules of ego.

 

You flow,

You enter a spring,

A celebration begins,

Almost a rebirth and renewal,

You kiss the new sprouts,

You appreciate the flowers,

You feel the breeze on your skin,

Your eyes see the beauty around,

Your soul feels the all-pervading love

when your heart gets a sweet shove

at the mere look of your dearest dove.

Crowded loneliness

 

We are basically

a very lonely species,

Loneliness pervades our being,

Maybe we love being lonely,

And to keep its bitter-sweet charm,

we allow interruption to our loneliness

through love, affection, friendship, relationships,

But we know we have to

get back to be lonely again,

We are ready to pay the costs for it,

We squander away love and friendships

to buy our next installment of loneliness.

Blinding the self

 

Mostly, we are viewing ourselves

in terms of what we are not

and what we couldn’t become,

In this way,

we are simply repulsing life,

We deny our very own little reality,

our existence,

our life,

our twinkling little puddle

under the starlight,

We ignore the wild flowers

that offer consolation

if we had given them a little bit

more than a cursory look.

An exit

 

The conveyor belt of pain

carrying the weighty stones of despair,

The bond of happiness dry and dead,

Soul aching with sorrow, anger, even guilt,

Body’s cells colonized by fear,

Going alone and forlorn,

Feeling resentment against a world

where everyone seemed to have worked out

how to be successful and happy,

Everyone except himself.

 

Slowly receding from all possibilities of life,

Silently stepping into the pool of non-existence,

Taking a revenge against life

by retreating from its false promise,--

the lollipop of hope,

Presuming life had been repulsing him

by burning and charring his aspirations

not only of fame and grandeur, but even

the little things that come naturally to everyone

whether they seek these or not.

 

His eyes like tall arched windows,

Face like a weather-beaten, mossy stone façade,

Body like an ancient battered brick structure,

A shattered star being sucked by a black hole,

Utterly frightened of life,

while all along he imagined

himself to be scared of death,

Haunted by the feeling of being incomplete,

Full of regrets for not being able to

welcome life as one should,

And that in a way

was an invitation to death.

 

Regrets constantly chiming in his chest,

The chances he squandered brimming his mind,

clouding him,

turning him blind to

the options and choices that had been beckoning,

trying to draw his attention.

 

Now, to forget the fear of life,

he decides to die.

A suicide.

A shameful exit.  

Floating and flying

Life can be tricky, 

if even about the simplest issues 

you are too frisky,

Prudence is to be at ease 

with situations and time, 

Complications then wouldn't chime,

And days would pass like a free rhyme!

The traveller

We are not a mistake 

to be corrected, 

We are just humans 

on our correct path;

just needing sometimes 

kind, loving, caring words

from our fellow travelers. 

A nostalgic tree

The sad musings of a lone pine on a weather beaten ridge:

Where have the birds gone? 

Too many of them used to roam 

the sky over my head, 

And play, love and make nest

at their joyous best

among branches mine,

Now my pine's soul doth pine,

Yesterday, I saw a bird couple too sad, 

Are many of them dead?