The Dark Road

 

A twinkle in the dark,
What does it mark
Against darkness so stark
Not a sound you can hark.

Darkness from a mother’s womb,
Or found in the depths of an Ocean’s tomb,
Searching for that bright little plume
Am I moving towards health or to my doom.

 

Scares me not the nights’ terror,
Only the pain of hearts error,
Looking around and hoping for a mirror,
Realising, In error would be the bearer

 

So who shall walk this dark road
To collect all of life’s debts owed
Hoping they don’t fall off a node,
Following the blind kings’ code.

A Guiding tale

 

Looking down from these snow capped peaks
Treading along those forgotten streaks.
Standing in these freezing waters akin to stoic greeks,
Bearing the freezing wind, for what the heart seeks.

These turbulent seas with sweeping breeze,
Battling against its murderous squeeze,
through the storm, right across the source,
So that, face you when I shall, show no remorse.

Those frightening forests
filled with dark deep ghosts,
Those alarming plummets
from atop the glacial summits.
Those whistling gusts,
Cutting down into earth’s crust.
Only help console me
that I am another step closer to thee

Longing for her,

Every demon I shall face
Every summit I shall surmount
Every abyss I shall dive
and every crevice I shall explore

For she,

Turns the ghosts scared,
and the summits fade.
keeps me from suffering the winds blade.
guiding me home to her safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reminiscences

 

There once was, a mighty stream,
Cold were its waters, making one shiver,
You could hear her roar, from a mile below,
So vast was her breadth,
Entire country’s thirst she would quench.

Until, we forgot our need
paid heed only to our greed,
built a block, to harness her drift,
through her treasures, so we may sift.

Until she ended up dry and bare,
Only then did we start to care,
Only to narrate to our children,
what was once our gateway to heaven.

There once was, a forest so green,
emeralds paled against her sheen.
Her fruits so clean and saccharine,
ravenous were none, her bounty subject to no palatine.

Pillaged her of all her treasure,
Our rapacity unknowing of a measure.
Decimating her for our gluttony,
Subtly comminating infinite felony.

Ending up with our children wheezing,
with pain showing no signs of easing,
Cursing our actions, repeatedly repenting,
lamenting that the solve was beyond inventing.

Only then did we start to care,
Mourning, the future that may never come to be.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Serendipity’s Search

For every clash of wave against wave
for every notch on the stones engraved,
for every rushing current that flows,
meeting the vast expanse, it borrows,
trying to match its strength,
Mistaking its magnanimity by an order by tenth.

As the slow interlacing begins,
Each forgetting what it had once been,
Those swirling water in appending tides,
The only indication of an unruly ride,
But though the path was thorny
Fruitful was the arduous journey.

Indistinguishable they now were,
even a dunce would concur,
Until came along daylights warmth,
pulled him apart and drove him North,
Till even the sight of her was distant,
Memory the only bond still existent.

Until along came a friendly chill,
excruciating thought, was not in doubt its goodwill,
Prodded him down from his lofty perch,
Reminded of his yearning to reach the sea, he searched,
All along the mountains course and lengthy roads,
Wondering if he would ever reach his original source.

 

Discord

I watch as I amble across,

Those dreary souls, hearts filled with loss.

In a world, in itself so lost,

Where humanity came at such a high cost,

Leading to is watching aghast,

Dreading the future, loathing the past.

In lieu of fiddling in a sunny field,

We watch, as society is itself wheeled,

In a desperate bid, itself to shield,

From the pestilence it hopes to heal.

Forgetting the music of a clavier played,

Confined home, we stayed afraid,

Our worst demons, in our minds portrayed,

Together, we never were arrayed.

Breeding conflict, each other we assailed,

In our haste, our masks unveiled,

In our idiocy we regaled,

Misgauging, that it was ourselves we had failed.

I watch still as a tree,

As the young demand to be set free,

Oblivious, naïve, ideologic and carefree,

Willing everyone to band together, desperate their plea.

To save everyone they implored,

United we should move toward,

So that, against calamity we could ward,

And build a world free from discord.

 

Red Tide

Those red tides.

and oncoming crests,

washing away the sand in spades,

slipping out, right under our gaze.

Those passing jet streams

Propelling us along to our dreams.

Hoping we reach near and far,

and maybe one day, soar among the stars.

Those fiery blazes.

Fuelling our insatiable gazes,

stoking and feeding our smolder,

so that, one day our fire may burn bolder.

Those stable roots,

Always reminding us of our broods,

No matter, the sand lost between our boots,

lighting our way, no matter its moods,

as we blaze away along this selfish pursuit

So that, once day we may scream in cahoots,

that we shall be remembered, no matter the feuds.

Gravity

All the stars that orbit around

A galaxy a mass of gas all along

Through gravity, eternally bound,

Staying and gliding where they belong

Known surroundings keeping them aground

Keeping the from getting wound

Only dreams and hopes guiding us along,

Our near and dear and a mind sound, keeping us from wrong

Our little suns at the centre guiding us round

Among our stars, keeping us downed

Making us ask
Am I in a galaxy?
Or
Is there a galaxy in me?

Realising each of us has infinites bound

In our hearts the universe sounds

Telling us that we are both in a surround

Love at the center and what goes around

Making us hope

That in all this merry go round

The universe has a plan for each one of us to go around.

The Coding of Poetry

Poets and coders are not so far off from one another, 

Coders write code bound to a syntax,
We write our hearts our bound to a language.
We try and find strange new ways to create new interpretations,
They express their emotions, as vivid as their imagination will allow them.
They express block of strange code and equate them to objects,
We use our similes to expresses beauty relative to objects or memories.
They use their compilers to communicate with the machines,
We try and use the iambic parameter to communicate with humans masquerading as machines.
After all this we ask, who is they and who is I?
If not different sides of the same coin?
Anonymous and Wordsworth both artists of compare.
With each creating beauty in their own relative language.
And to all the coders and poets at heart.
We only aim to create a machine verse that we can dedicate to our hearts.

Letters from Beyond

On that final journey
Through that long road,
What does one take,
And where does one go?

If death were the final act,
Then why does my memory live?
If death is a fleeting end,
Then why does the pain linger?
If death is a constant never changing,
Then how do my beloved ever recover?

If only had I known these questions earlier,
Maybe my actions could’ve been merrier.
Looking behind at the carnage I left,
“Was it worth anything I forsook behind.

Watched I had

As she cried herself to bed at night,
Afraid to let other even catch her eye
Terrified of going out again,
Alone, in a world so great.
Trying and being strong for everyone’s sake,
Inspite of all the gashes I made,
Putting on a smile and pushing ahead, every day.

What choice did I have?
After you left with everything I had.
You made my world go round,
Till you let me believe, till eternity you had gone.
What point was living, without my life,
To what would I dedicate my victory songs,
Or to whom would I details my conquests and my loss.
Afraid to come to an empty home at last,
I resolved to keep your love for eternity at heart,
And with it I commit myself,
To the only eternal constant,
With all your thoughts on my mind,
Loving you to the bitter end

Earthly Troubles

In these customary regimen,

Along these sordid specimen.

We long for just a tiny bit of liberty,

That may yet cost us dearly

In these lonely halls,

Along, in our solitary strolls.

We dream of the wind our hair,

That which our bronchi wouldn’t despair

In those scorching moments

Along those stony embankment.

We wish for those pearly drops of rain,

That, has not turned to acid to cause pain

In these grand moments,

Among those lofty monuments.

We look, long and hard ahead,

That, bequeath my children shall, this planet dead.

A Country’ Debt

Trudging down, his humility his crown
Patriotism was not a word, lightly thrown around.
For each man, must earn his place,
Among these brothers whose history you could trace.
To hallowed halls of elegance and grace,
Filled with valour, against every enemy they faced.

These pictures, lining these hallowed halls,
Each had a story, that could fill a wall.
Each had a family and souls they loved,
Yet to heed the greater good they bowed.
Served their mother will all their will,
And to protect her and her children, used all their skill.
Till their last breath they fought along.
Side by side, so that their country could live long.

Now, home they brought her warrior dead,
The one, who for country had bled.
Lying cold under death’s veil,
As his mother begged god to right the scale
To take her but nor her precious little bear.

Now home they brought her warrior dead.
His body heavy with lead.
Home they brought those unseeing eyes,
Which ones held promises and goodbyes.
She had to go on without those hands,
That loved her, even through all her demands.
Oh what would she tell the little souls
Who shared his smile and probably his goals.

Terrified she was as he grew,
Unknowing if he would stroll along the same avenue,
Praying, he would stroll along that path,
Defending a country, that had shown her only wrath,
For all those who end up on those hallowed walls,,
Only end up as a footnote in history’s scrolls.
She wished he wouldn’t wander down that path,
Because, if anything, she couldn’t bear the aftermath.
For once, home they brought her warrior dead,
And with him, she had paid this country’s debt.

The Price of Victory

Victorious he stood
His sword dripping his foe’s blood,
Left was no one,
Vanquished through all of the war.
Gone was every home and every son.

Empty halls and silence’s cries,
Were all that was left, for him to rule by.
And with his victory now complete,
He looked up and asked:

What good came of me fighting this war,
If only for you to take everyone away?
What value of the valour I spend, to protect?
If everyone you had decided to forsake?
What was life’s worth? O Sacred river,
That you swallowed all my near and dear.
Oh, of what use is my victory,
If all I have left is heartbroken misery,
And a my love to wrap my arms around,
But rather only death’s endless waiting charms.

A Demon’s Strength

Looking down from those snowcapped peaks,
Treading along those forgotten blue streaks,
Standing in freezing water, like stoic greeks,
Bearing all the freezing wind, for what my heart seeks.

Those choppy currents with their sweeping force,
Battling along to change my deadly course,
In the mast breaking storm, right at its source,
So that face you when I shall, show no remorse.

These frightening forests,
Full of dark deep ghost.

Those frightening plummets,
From atop these glacial summits.

Those whistling gusts,
cutting hard into earth’s crust.

Only serve to console me,
That I shall soon be close to thee.

Thee for whom

Ever demon shall I face,
Every summit I shall chase,
Every abyss I shall dive,
and every shadow I shall pry.

For she,

Turns my ghosts scared
And every summit, with ease fade.
Helps me take the winds blade,
and keeps guiding me home safe

Miscalculations of Love and War

An empty court, A royal seat.
A Kingly crown, A queens’ feast
A banquet for the victory won
A vigil for the departed son.

A kingdom won, Subjects lost,
A war fought, deadly its cost.
A clink of gold, the clang of swords.
A headstone and a table with different words.

History in all its wisdom,
Created a deadly system.
Kill or be killed was the natural law
For the planet after the thaw.

To what end, would this war lead
Leaving widows and heartache in its stead.
For what do we stand up and fight,
every moment from whence we see light.

The love we have remembers us,
The one’s whose eyes we close, hasn’t a fuss,
Every victory, every crown, every ego ever won,
Empty handed into the ground was how the emperor had gone.
Left behind were the people he loved,
Who remembered and wept for their beloved.

Tales of bridges burnt

Come a thousand deaths
Or a million jests
A reaper’s scythe
Or death’s own blight

Till the bright day lasts
Or in night’s deadly cast
To the tip of the clouds
Or the depths of ocean’s downs

In a volcanoes fiery breath
Or the Arctic’s chilly breath
In a zone where the sun doesn’t set
Or the home where lifes’ darkest

In sickness and in death
In joy and in eternal wealth
In hope and disdainly despair
Within you being the air
And laying my heart out to bare

Wishing my heart again you’d steal,
Hoping all my apologies endear to you
Helping all those old wounds to heal
So that we can get back the love we knew

A Man's Shrine

What a sight would the lone beam of a light house be,
To a man long sailing along in the deep blue sea,
For years trying to reach the horizon,
Only to find himself from whence he set forth from.

What a sight would be a clear blue stream,
To a nomad wandering in the desert’s harsh gleam,
Travelling among the endless sand,
All the while,
Wishing for the oasis’s calm.

What a sight would be, a rose’s bloom
To a soldier, fighting amongst the jaded gloom
With foe’s far and near, to protect his near and dear,
Wishing he can at least go home in a light year.

What sight would it be, his love’s smile
To a man deprived of love all his while,
would not she be his angel divine,
and somewhere he could finally call his shrine.

The Dark Road

A twinkle in the dark,
What does it mark
Against darkness so stark
Not a sound you can hark.

Darkness from a mother’s womb,
Or found in the depths of an Ocean’s tomb,
Searching for that bright little plume
Am I moving towards health or to my doom.

Scares me not the nights’ terror,
Only yhe pain of hearts error,
Looking around and hoping for a mirror,
Realising, In error would be the bearer

So who shall walk this dark road
To collect all of life’s debts owed
Hoping they don’t fall off a node,
Following the blind kings’ code.