Tag: poem

Fantasy, Love, and Imagination

Cold moon flows
touches bosom
our love sick fantasies
sculpts desire of swallowed fame
oh, long lost symphonies!

Curtain falls on blazing seduction
slaying us over and over again
lighting the dark, curse upon us
until shadows remain.

The Happy Prince

Once lived a proud and happy prince
in a palace too grand and fine.
‘Bout sadness and pain he knew not;
He knew to drink from nine to nine.

Sparks

The night pulls in
And the sun makes way for the moonlit sky
October’s golden sun has said its last goodbye
And winter’s chill swirls in the breeze
Shaking the last remnants of Auburn from the trees
Lights in houses glow in the evening air
Shimmering black pavements, under branches bare
Children in soft woollen warmth to the chin
Kicking fallen leaves, the cold blushing their skin

Daffodils Are Good, Fallen Leaves Better

They’ve fallen from the trees that now stand nude and pale,
So leaves my soul to figure what they hold;
I’m lying to myself (no falsehood in this tale),
but on my mind dwell truths about the cold.
Is the weather not presaging what will happen
to grass ploughed well in April, May, and June?
Hand in glove with you is He, nothing’ll mishappen
but the gloves you have worn may wear out soon.

Those Days at School

If I could time trek, straight to school I’d go
because the thoughts that to me are cherished
belong to school and wish not to be perished;
Weren’t they the days when each hoed one’s own row?

The Brooding Sky

The brooding sky harried the realm
It glowered beneath an angry brow
Through narrowed eyes
Glistering with intentionally unconcealed rage
Tinged with the betrayal
Of a fleeting mocking delight
At the discomfitted souls below

There Was a Recent Day

There was a recent day
Cloaked in drab attire from a cheerless chamber
Where hung robes of mundanity
It was a time of dullness in both character and appearance
A portrait in monotony, a study in languor
The very antithesis of recklessness
Devoid of a penchant for abandon

We Against Us

Dazed in morbid hopes
real comforts made us saints
preaching random sugar-coated lies,
on what we fed
our precious greed
in this city of dreams
barely we survived clinging to life
hard to hold on, so sophisticated!

Treetops Crowned in Glory

Treetops crowned in glory and gold
Basked in the late afternoon sun
As the great day star
Pierced the glowing firmament
Of an autumnal idyll
With golden shards
That into fragments a’myriad
Did a’shatter
Dappled lights a’many

What’s Real Isn’t Seen

‘The Sun shines like a jewel as the day dawns,
dispelling the darkness’ brought by night;
I watch the sky devoid of clouds,
a sky that beams with light bright.’

What’s the Difference Between Ballad and Ballade?

The words ‘ballad’ and ‘ballade’ are often used interchangeably primarily because speakers, including native English speakers and teachers of the English language, assume they mean the same – a narrative poem. The fact, nonetheless, is different. If you look up these words in a good dictionary, you will get distinct meanings, thus conveying that they are not just different from each other but poetically unique in their own way. It is worth mentioning that while ballads can fall under the free verse or fixed verse form of poetry, ballades solely belong to the fixed verse form. Furthermore, the latter has stricter rules than the former.

Wordplay

The leaves flicker along with Sun;
‘Words up!’ as I hear someone say.
You shall a business found well stressed.
‘Will if you need to make you gay.’

In Remembrance

Remembrance of a bitter season thrown upon the world,
when blood and bone would fertilize as fiefdom’s flags unfurled,
entrenched in mud, the good intentions blown apart by fear,
if only Spring might rear its head and Winter disappear.

Nightmare

The night pulls in and the sky is dark
And the Sun has long since set
The light of the moon behind heavy clouds
Muffled beams on black pavements pirouette
Shadows lurk and impose their gloom
The bite of a winter that’s on the prowl
Sends shivers down your spine

What Is Diwali? Why Is It Celebrated?

It is said that the God Himself
descended on Earth, took Ram’s form;
Was made to suffer hard we hear
by those who willed to break the norm.
Ram would soon have Ayodhya ruled
had He not been sent into exile;
He dwelt in woods for years fourteen
with his wife and brother agile.

Winter Is Here

Comes again the winter,
bringing to towns darkness
The Sun covered by clouds
tries hard to scatter light;
The light braves the dense fog
Watch I the brumous sight.

In the Earthly Realms

In the earthly realms
‘Neath the vast firmament
Of mountains and valleys and fields
Forests and rivers and oceans
There mingle mists and shadows
That from aeons and ages past
Ever have all creatures intrigued
In some much fear evoking
While others have seamlessly enticed gladly been
Into the myriad swirls and mysteries