Liberation

(Picture Courtesy: My mind with that bone-of-a-thought)

There was a thought,
A tiny one -
A web that spun,
Like a hideous blot...

There was that thought,
It pinched and gnawed -
And scratched and clawed...
To instigate a rot...

And Oh! this thought,
It took my peace,
And skinned my fleece...
With a beastly shot...

I killed that thought,
For it hath my mind,
And made me blind...
Like a man distraught...

Now there aint't no thought,
So I live serene,
Guiltless and keen...
...And happily trot!


Babble
=======
1. *evil laughter* Yes, murder can be fun at times ;)

2. Did you ever have a nagging thought that persisted and persisted and just didnt want to go away? It took away a lot of your mental cycles and didnt give back anything in return. A 'Yes' in answer indicates that you have passed/are passing your very own Quarter Life Crisis with flying colors ;) Unfortunately, we all have to - sorry!

3. I also realized that I'm not as invincible in fending away these thoughts as much as I'd like to believe. (...Which further reminds me that I'm still nowhere :D )

4. Regardless of the rant that I barf in a lot of my writings, its fun to look at oneself from a second-person point of view.

5. ...and regardless of the pathetically sentimental sounding last line, I'm still laughing that evil laugh I started a while back ;)

Tempus Fugit

(Picture courtesy: Google, obviously.)


Mountains to move,
Many storms to quell...
In ruthless times,
Where failures dwell...

Tentative mind on a perilous dock,
And 'Tempus Fugit!' sayeth the clock...


A journey so drawn,
Such enduring a path...
In waters unknown,
This vast a swath...

The voyage endeth beyond that rock,
But 'Tempus Fugit!' sayeth the clock...


There are times,
When hope doth dwindle...
In wickedest of ways,
Like nefarious a swindle...

Then urge to break, so vicious this lock,
And "Tempus Fugit!" chimeth the clock...


Babble
========
1. I'm back! :)

2. I can still write!! :)

3. I'm still the same gloomy me !!! :)

4. Tempus Fugit = Time flies, first mentioned
by Virgil in Georgics. But of course reading
Georgics is too mundane. If you're an X-Files fanatic
like me, then you'll immediately recognise the episode.

5. Back to serious things, if you've ever wanted
to do a lot of things in life and fell short of
doing them, then this poem is for you! Imagine life as
a journey with an hourglass by your side where every
grain that trickles is a jiffy less that you get to
realize your dreams.... *blah* *blah* *blah*

6. *I slap myself for my moment of vulnerability in (5)* *another slap* *I wake up*

7. ... and life goes on.

Shadows

(Courtesy: PVR - who has such fantastic snapping prowess)

Once I lived,
Once I thrived...
In a blossomed field,
Where cherubs jived...

The world was mine,
In a million hues...
And mind was free,
It hath no rues...

Twice I fumbled,
Twice I fell...
Searching respite,
Amidst that spell...

And then I ran-
In wilderness vast...
'cause shadows hath me,
Shadows from the past...

Thrice I turned,
Thrice I strived...
To adore the field,
Where cherubs had jived...

And all I saw,
Was shadows and flames...
In a chequered time -
With all its frames...


Babble
=======
1. Originally titled "Scarecrows".

2. My nightmares - demystified.

3. As an afterthought, I realized that I could relate to "once" and "twice" as cardinal numbers : ))) Weird.

4. Yeah... I have a thing or two for running around in the wilderness... and shouting my heart out from the top a cliff... and such things.

5. Apologies to those who think its too negative... It wasnt intended to be read by the weak hearted ;D ... and I am not... I repeat I AM NOT legally responsible for whatever turbulence in emotions it causes you!

6. If you think that theres a "fourth"... then of course there is : ))))))... but you'll have to coax me into telling that ;). The poem in its current form is *incomplete* :)

Solitude

(Frederick Church, Twilight in the Wilderness, 1860)

In the wilderness beyond the moor,
Far from eyes in an unknown spoor...
With wayward shadows in vapory light,
By fleeting spirits in depths of night...
...Lives she...

Fields of corn swaying in wind,
Gurgling streams which thoughts rescind...
A neverland which befits a maid,
This sapphire sky, those jewels inlaid...
...Left she...

In this decadence and dread,
Treachery, delusion and hatred...
She dreams of times long gone by,
Of memories trapped in every sigh...
...Longs she...

Yet there nurtures a firm resolve,
Of waning darkness, when sins absolve...
There are signs, which happiness bode,
In her thoughts, in her abode...
...Lingers she...


Babble
=======
1. Yeah I'm still alive... and still kicking... and still...
(In case it wasnt apparent, the stress is on the word "still")

2. Contrary to what might appear in first read, I did not read Peter Pan in Neverland last night.
Also, neither did I mistakenly make the mistake of watching a horror movie.

3. Why a female protagonist? Eh..interesting question... but sorry, no answer.
I'm still in flux as to why I chose to do it. However, if by any chance, the thought that I might be cultivating a female alter ego crosses someones mind, then I'm willing to entertain the idea... *devilish chuckle*.

4. Like the previous poem, this also follows the... emm... let me put it in the form of an alliteration - Hell, Heaven, Harrow, Hope pattern.

5. If you care about the meter used then, well... the meter is in beta phase technically speaking. I seek to write lines 3,4 and 5 of every paragraph in such a manner that 3,4 when read together seem to be in continuation and so do 4,5. Of course 3,4 follow the standard AA meter. Sorry again, its a fetish I cant get rid of.
..... And the Petrarchan Meter in many earlier poems has (finally)been put into cold storage for the time being.

Mea Culpa

(Picture Courtesy: Friend and Friend of Friend)

A dream once dreamt,
And a valiant attempt...
Of heaven on earth,
And of life full of mirth...

Its time to surmise...
Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!


A dream gone bad,
Of riches almost had...
Its remnant scattered lies,
In front of mistful eyes...

Its time to agonise...
Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!


A call of tempered will,
This hope of salvage still...
To rise and take,
The gleaming destined fate...

Its the time of uprise,
Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!


Shimmering utopia in sight,
...And the end of all spite...
Only a few steps away,
Lies salvation on this way...

Its the time of reprise...
Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!


Babble
=======

Now for the explanantion. The usual set of clarifications first.

"Mea Culpa" = "My Mistake"
- originally part of a Roman Catholic prayer in Latin
but made famous in our times by the Enigma album.

The poem is structured in four separate paragraphs to convery four different states of mind.

First: The Dream
Second: The Shattering of a dream
Third: The Hope
Fourth: The Calmness when the goal is in sight.

These four thoughts run intertwined with another persistent thought which arises out of a guilt... possibly because of some mistake committed in life. Happens to all of us... really. Once a mistake... always a mistake with the accompanying nag of "My Mistake". In other words "Mea Culpa".

Why this pic?
- Because of the blankness in expression, especially the longing and calm eyes. With enough of hyperactive imagination, the girl can be imagined to be in any of the four states mentioned before.
(Ok... just to reiterate, I've put the "hyperactive imagination" discalimer).

Why do I bother to explain?
- After bugging AA for a "Mea Culpa" themed pic and almost getting on his nerves, this pic was revealed. No second thoughts after that.
The pic is too beautiful to leave lines unexplained as I imagined them :)

Thanks to AA and his friend!

The Sorceress

(Picture Courtesy: Well... the Sorceress)

You who don this crimson hue,
In this morning, in this dew...
Revers thee, worships you...
Genesis all- in this view..

Lissome lips, slender breath,
A swan's song- in its death...
Eyes gazellic in this gaze,
Benumbing senses as they faze...


Frozen lieth this travail,
Like ships at rest, no wind on sail...
The ether floweth but to convey,
Thy fragrance bizarre for hearts to sway...


A thousand different suns they glow,
And misty streams in fervence flow...
Lost I lie in this ocean I see,
Thy spell is it.. Or a delirious me?

Aeons of wait, ages of restraint,
Worn demeanor- and a soul of taint...
Deliver me! O' Sorceress supreme!
In throes I exist, solicit thy gleam...


Babble
=======
1. The sorceress is already taken ;). Sorry folks. Cant do anything about it now.

2. "Deliver me! O' Sorceress supreme!" - best imagined as uttered by a man on the edge of a cliff.

3. I was NOT drunk when I wrote this... although I did recently receive a comment on the 'drunkenness' in my writings. :-))))

4. As the lore goes, a Swan's Song refers to the beautiful and captivating song sung by a mute swan in its death.

5. Ah! sorceress.... sorceress.... sorceress....

C'est La Vie

(Picture Courtesy: Google and the Namibian Desert)

I fall and I walk,
With silence do I talk...
In pain oft I writhe,
With a cheshire smile blithe...

And when moments seem bleak,
I see a shining streak...
Wandering all the time,
I drag shackles in this grime...

---

Life ain't fair,
It sets thee in despair...
In despairs such as these,
I seek the subtle glees...


...this desert far and wide,
Where I journey and I bide...
In this thaw and this freeze,
I'm an incessant breeze...

---

So I wonder on my trail,
Of finale and the grail...
Salvation yonder, here spree,
C'est La Vie, C'est La Vie...


Babble
======

Answers to FAQs:

1. C'est La Vie = Such is Life

2. No, I havent lost the plot.

3. Yes, I am still running short of inspirations.