Category: poetry

My cup was empty
And you filled it
A few Times
But sometimes
You poured your tears
Which were
Not genuine
Sometimes nectar
Of soul
Which was pure
But the cup was empty still
May it learn
To remain so

Betrayed again
The brim by the storm
In the tea cup
Or the cracks in the china
By which the potter had made the cup

Time and again
Potter has tried
To build
Cups that will
Stand the heat and the cold
But then
May be
After a while
Each of his creation gets
Caught
In the trivial pursuit of
Now
And immediate

May be
The potter should stop
Crafting cups
And use curved leAves
May be
May be not

May be he should try afresh
With new clay
And new moulds
May be

I have often wondered
Why do I fail in sculpting
A form
That defies
Easy definition
Trapped in mediocrity
Will I give up
No, how could
A boatm man leave
The search for wood which
Will make a boat that
Can survive storms
And many storms

truth wasn’t so difficult
but i was willing to live with less
but then
not everyone can lie
so more became imperative
limits were reached rather quickly
there are many ways in which one can go
you chose the way
lighted
by the pieces of broken mirrors
mounted on the lamp posts all along the way

Frowns were visible
But where was the faith
it is obvious now
what was apparent months ago
has surfaced like a
sunk boat
immersed in water for a while
once waves eroded the planks,
it started floating

aH!!

Wind is still
But clouds are unsettled
You can say
What you wish
I will listen
Just
Listen
And bear
With your
Frowns

the meanings went astray
as i sat
quietly
over the stone
a big dark one
near the placid lake
having a few trees
heavily laden with creepers
some having nest of weaver birds hanging on many branches
soaking moist breeze under the shade

your munificence has surpassed my ability to hold
why are you then so cold

dont hold me so tight
said the creeper
to the tree
but was it possible for tree to restrain himself
he could not
now that the tree has withered away
you remember the embrace
and wonder
if imprints of the arms
can become the tendrils

and my breath the tree

look through the clouds
i told you but
the wind was too strong
how could the cloud have held
on its own
it got scattered
without raining
do you wish
to be like that cloud
ask yourself

tears cant be traded with tencel
absorbing the pains to release smiles
and do the opposite
when it suits
stop
stop
but will you also stop
playing these games with your destiny
why should we always
defer the resolution
of those knots
which hold the tenuous link intact so long
but till when
really, till
when