An Unforgotten Face

I think I told this many times before. I am don’t write much in Spring and Summer. I write when the weather is cold. I once even wrote a poem about it. These days, mmm, I can write ten poems a day, as there are a lot of ideas that comes to my mind. But I say, it is too hot to write. hehehe.
I don’t forget promises, I am a man of my words. Hope you all understand what I mean. You will soon see.

Now the poem, there are times when on a given moment you will feel that the whole moment or piece of time is a repetition. I have gone through that many times. Thinking about those times I got the following poem. I wrote it as I thought it is worth writing it.

 

An Unforgotten Face.

A thousand images through the mind passed,
Illusions from real life events weaved,
Ruled the mind with vigor of cold war dictator,
Ah’ as the alternatives in pathetic formulas failed,
Some images to mind came,
Which only in imaginations lived.

Time raced at the face and fell behind,
Into days, months and years gone by forever,
The chaos, the high speed, the sudden breaks,
Into the whirlpool of time all went away,
All a mockery of the given illusion, life,
That grown and spread like the blue sky.

Between time’s magical movement,
And a reality into every moment blended,
Passions, fantasy and fascinations played,
Oh’ reality lost its meanings in time,
And every sense along with it fabricated,
Images of long lost passions that remained.

Amid those images mind in never ending search,
To find that one real face that sprouts memory,
Memory of a happy moment mind always cherished,
But sometime in ones own failures,
And sometime for the happiness of others withdrawn,
Now mind know not which image is real or fantasy.

There is a new direction my mind see, it is worth thinking about it. When imaginations turns to words in mind, You all sure will see those words here.

A Riddle And Waiting Beauty

Here is a riddle.

I am lazy these days, as I am waiting for something. It is pretty much waiting I can do. So other than waiting I cannot do much. These days I use my Treo as a modem to connect to the internet using PDA.Net. As I am waiting for phone calls daytime, during daytime I don’t connect to the net at all. Night also I am not much on the net except for some quick visits to blog sites like Xanga, Facebook, Myspace and emails I cannot access using Treo. During the waiting the following poem kinda got into me. In the end I looked at a photograph to really understand the beauty to finish the poem. Which photograph?? Aha… the answer goes into my vault of secrets which only love can open.hehehe. Now whoever knows me very well should look back, way back after reading the words of this poem carefully, then they will understand what picture I looked at…

Enjoy.

Waiting Beauty.

About the childhood days a lullaby she wrote,
And forgot every word of that well rhymed verse,
About the adolescent days a ballad she wrote,
And let world around her fall in love with love.

All the gone by days and years as a monument stood,
Of a life from the roughest thoughts polished,
As a gem of the precious nature,
Shedding light into even the darkest minds.

A narrative about the lifetime ahead she must write,
Alone in this world she never will be,
As she know what loneliness means,
Alone she never will leave, any loving heart, in pain.

And with every moment of the rest of her life,
A monument of love, compassion and joy she will build,
Everyone through her sense passed,
As heavenly blessings through their life will cherish.

Beautiful she is and the beauty inside her out glows,
The beauty mankind ever seen,
And that beauty in the perfection of life celebrates,
And that beauty in the imperfection of life weeps.

A beauty in all perfection for the woman in her waits,
As world around her in hopes and wishes gathers,
To celebrate the love and compassion of the blessing,
That comes from the life of a wonderful woman.

The Pledge

My whereabouts must be kept secret for security reasons…hehehe… truly. The reason…. mmmm… that’s another secret. There is only one xangan in recent times who had seen me. Oohlahlah…. what a wonderful person she is.. came to me at the airport and told hello LP… and said I am Oohlahlah..

Now I am at the verge of being lost… there is only one who can save me.. that’s myself. I don’t know what makes me think that way, well that’s the way I am thinking now. I will let you know the results soon.

The Pledge.

Middle of all with a hungry soul,

Thriving for the touch of all,

The existence of this soul, none feels,

Oh’ insanity may be an exit with blessings come.

An alley step by step passed,

Howling from all corners heard,

The one whisper for which yearns,

Only silence from that corner came.

Why would you leave me in eternal pain,

Why not leave a feeling from far I can love,

Oh’ your silence in the heat of pain melts,

My heart like a candle in altar stands.

The howling stopped and wayfarers left,

Mongrels scavenging trash cans from one time meal,

When walking by those growls, once more pledged,

Die with a hungry soul or with fulfilled love.

The Power Within

The Power Within

Surrounded by the contradictions,
The charisma of life with spread out wings,
Oh’ passions sprouted in countless emotions felt,
And how many wonderful ways imaginations flown,
Upon those color filled spread out wings.

Deep inside every mind lives,
The pain and yearning of the unachieved,
Be it the dream of love,
Be it the fulfillment of a dream,
Be it the dynamics of everyday life,
Pain indeed is the part of every path.

Through those paths when one walk,

There indeed are hundreds of hurdles to pass,

Choice of life in front of everyone comes,

In the ways those hurdles one pass.

Some around those hurdles, face down fell,

Some at the first one, perplexed stand,

There are those who look for shortcuts,

There are those who look way ahead,

Then there are those who try to go ahead,

With their faces to some long gone past turned.

In all those minds one feeling in common found,

Fear, with the face of a monster unseen reigns,

In those fear like candles in a cathedral melts,

Life of many in meaningless chaos.

Oh’ they don’t understand at all,

Embedded in those fears is the power to quell,

The power inside the mind bestowed,

The power to solve every puzzle of life,

The power of mind in strength of faith and belief grown,

A power most seldom seeks,

The power that fertile the graveyards weeds,

Wasted mostly as feelings of youthful charms.

Mankind indeed are the wisest kind,

Mankind indeed are the best of all creations,

Mankind indeed were given the powers of all kinds,

Still many in depression of mind locks life,

And takes the meanings of their life as dust,

Dust from where their material being created.

Remembering “The Star”.

Okay, I first thought I will do two posts to tell you all something. Nope there will be three posts. A little suspense is good isn’t it? Here is the second poem. The whole poem is not mine from the title itself one can understand that. I used four lines of a very familiar poem to the this poem. What interested me is none tried to really figure out what I am going to do. Well, now I can clearly say, “who the hell cares about me anyway” someone I thought cared, didn’t even cared to say a word. mmm, it is a busy world out there aha.

Remembering “The Star”.

A hundred full moons I have seen,
A thousand nights the stars I’ve watched,
Those tiny blinking lights far far away,
Brings to mind peace and tranquility,
Even when in chaotic violence they burn.

Oh’ those days and nights I pushed,
Learning a truth step by step,
A world without boundary divided,
Bye crooked politicians and fanatics,
Oh’ none can lock dreams in chains and ball,
None can draw lines God don’t see.

On an evening when sun drowned into sea,
Mind said its time to go,
I followed no dream, I followed none,
Still I reached where mind found its peace.

Deep inside still some feelings in unrest rocked,
For which no meaning my wisdom can find,
What left unfinished my material brain can’t find,
Even when chaos and mistakes followed on and on,
From far away many looked at a peaceful smile,
And in my mind echoed a quartet in rhymes I’ve heard,
When imaginations where only sprouting like,
The blossoms in the early spring,
“Twinkle, Twinkle little star,
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the worlds so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.”.

This is my picture standing above my home in India. The terrace that’s seen behind me was where I used to sit in the night with a two and half inch telescope to look at stars. It was not a big one still that’s all I could get my hands on….

Days In Shadows

Searching for footprints of my own mistakes.

Searching for footprints of my shadows.

I don’t lie. I am too old for that. But I don’t really speak directly that’s how I became a poet… hehehe. Here is my picture and a poem. Some knows what I mean, others try to figure out what is going on.

In Search For A Footprint.

Through lost ways gathered,
Time as brutal past enshrined,
Blurring the offenses of those days,
Smiles of irony enchants upon face.

Whispers of love only in illusions lived,
Reality never birthed even in life filled,
With negative charms of some unknown curse,
Leaving questions inside mind,
“Why did I birthed and in every breath love her?”

The meaning of love O searched and searched,
In the light of love, in the enshrined past,
Shadows that kept in dark those feelings,
All gone leaving no footprints behind.

The feeling of love O they consumed mind,
The light from the soul in every corner filled,
Oh’ so bright became the light of love,
Leaving every sense blinded by the glow.

Every step taken with all senses shut,
They all in the wrong of life ended,
And the light of love faded in the dark,
Darkness of feelings of love unacknowledged.

All ways ahead O dead ends they all are,
Only ways to the roots known in depths of past,
Maybe in the deserted ways may find,
A footprint or two of mistakes of oneself,
From where will come back paving ways,
Ways ahead in search of a happy day.

Advice To A Lost Lover

Heading towards a weekend. At times here in this site and in lonelypoet.org I have said many times, what process through which I take and event and expand that event to an idea and write about it. The process remain same no matter what different ways I put it. Sometime the whole process may take about 10 min. Sometime it may take a week or two. There was one time it took nearly 10 years. Life in two different countries, 3 relationships in between, 3 major deaths in the family. Still I held on to that one idea. That’s the first suggestion I can give to a young writer. Consistency and the persistence on being unique. The one reason I stayed in Xanga is there are many young writers who show that amazing talent of expression through words. It is the most difficult art form. As many are young and naive they just don’t know the treasure they are sitting upon. When I said treasure I didn’t mean that one is sitting on top a pot of Gold or money. Poetry is not valued in money and in fact there is little or no money one can earn writing poetry. Money is for the brain and actions generated out of brain. Poetry is from the heart, to the heart, so it is the spiritual enhancement that it brings. With that one can perfect a lot of the brainy works. Said that… it may only take a simple phrase one here or sight one see that triggers the whole process, so in a way, a material connection is always there. It then goes through the spiritual side. Not a lot of writers these days really understand the difference between an action and its spiritual side. For most of the people it is and bound together. To become a poet the first and foremost thing to achieve is to differentiate between the two. Talent alone won’t make one a poet, knowledge alone won’t make one a poet either. Knowledge is the action, it can be learned. Talent is the spiritual side of it and it need to be blend with the action at the right amount. That one can only earn by practice. A poet should write everyday. Even if what is written don’t make sense he/she should write. Because when God gave you that talent God meant something with it and you don’t want to disappoint God by denying it.

Here is a simple example of taking an event from life. When I said life I cannot clearly say it is absolutely real. Because from the time after this poem is written things have changed. I thought of not posting this poem here ever. What I want to show is, how to treat an event from a poetic perspective. The situation was I didn’t heard from someone for sometime. I thought that person is gone-a-gone. Just a thought what that person may get if that person comes back. Okay that triggered the process. I wrote it last weekend. Along with the previous. But during the course of this week, that person came back. So the reality of the context does not exists. So I thought this will be a good way to show how to take a little idea and blow it as big as possible, taking simple words and images from reality itself.

Advice To A Lost Lover

Tides came and gone with the moon,
Still echoed the roar of the sea,
More inside the mind and mind swooned,
Opened eyes watched memories in the swollen waves flee.

Oh’ the memories of the liar in me,
The one in whispers lied and lied ,
That the love I felt for you was an unreal plea,
Of mind in beauty and charms bide.

Why ye left love to the monstrous dark?
Tightening chains, mind from inside bound,
The flow of the world making thoughts stark,
Leaving love in soul an un-healable wound.

Step back in time, the healer ever forgiving,
Back at those sunny spring and summer days look,
Days and nights spent in ones own soul rediscovering,
In each other’s mind from where love we took.

Now each other we both lost,
In distant deserts where spring never blooms,
Only mirages we both see of each other’s paths we crossed,
And the paths ahead filled with mists of gloom.

Come back, O dear, come back, with smile so bright,
The love ye sought in fulfillment still in this heart reigns,
In the blinding dark give a lost soul love filled sight,
And enlighten your own soul from loveless pain.

Come back and the looming silence you break,
From a heart that dwells in the realm of gloom,
And in your silence forever ache,
And will wait even beyond the day of doom.

Now here is something I am starting to work on…. maybe some of you can also work with this. “Stepdad’s crimes, his authority, his passion, his vigilance. The mother’s helplessness, Their love, the mother’s love… the chaos of all in everyday life. The heart so frozen with every given day gone by. Freedom from it all an oasis far far away.” This is how I make an idea. I got this idea during writing a comment for another post. As I haven’t dealt with a step dad or step mom situation I really have dig deep into my imagination to write this. Some of you who have dealt with such situation will be able to express this idea more realistically. Let me know so that we can compare the works.

Have a great weekend.

Fly high through the valleys like a brave skylark,
And view from heights all the land across,
From valley to beach all the way we walked,
From the vaults of time one more day borrowed.

Age away oh truthful heart
Living the fulfillment of dreams unseen,
Age away in grace playing your part,
In this lonely act that turns mean.

Fire spitting dragon on your right hands,

Stepdad’s crimes, his authority, his passion, his vigilance. The mother’s helplessness, Their love, the mother’s love… the chaos of all in everyday life. The heart so frozen with every given day gone by. Freedom from it all an oasis far far away.

Theory Of Failure

Theory Of Failure.

The mind of an adolescent with dreams filled,
And step by step to the worldly cravings left,
Follow the dream the world together yelled,
Followed the dreams, focused step by step.

The screams of the world never changed,
Those exploiters who made one look good,
Those feelings that made one feel great,
All of them just day traders who faded,
After a moments pleasure that one freely gave.

Adolescent and teen years fallen away,
Like leaves in the season of fall,
When faced the bare naked world of reality,
Unbearable the pain, as life became,
An unknown game of poker against wicked fate.

In the perplexed passions emotions froze,
The youthful years by the unfelt love torn.
Whenever eyes in despair closed,
Nothing of this world in mind’s eyes saw,
All felt were layers of sky blocking,
Some unknown reality one always failed to see.

After outliving the youthful years life took,
A backward turn as all the paths passed,
Through the roads of time from birth,
None meaningfully defined any roads ahead.

The charms of youth lingered,
Everything grown, yet another step,
Upon the failed past that never held,
Life built with sweat and blood,
Upon a castle drawn in the air.

Unpredictable the future always was,
Undefined were the results of dreams,
Uncouth were those who filled in roles,
But the drama that repeated with different people,
Oh’ always ended in failures of a bubbled up mind.

Mind bound to unnatural dreams,
The never ending chase after deadlines unrealistic,
The lovely faces upon which trusted the purity of love,
And excuses invented, justifying those who rejected,
Belief that makes one yearn for perfect and purest,
While looking at others for ones own success.

For the mirages of life never written in ones life,
Looking way above to those faked smiles,
Wanting and wishing for life of someone else,
Blaming everything alive or some unknown fate,
When all those faded away as illusions incomprehensible,

Even then dragging on and on leaving life,

Into surprises guessed and miracles expected,

Oh’ they all lead to failures of a kind unimaginable.

The Riven Riff

In the heights of frustration a strength will come from within that makes one accept reality. When it repeats the force grows more and more. In one of those repetitions I decided to write a poem which I named “Theory Of Failure”. Well that went well, one week and 7 hours later the Theory was formed. Now to all the newcomers to this site. I have a habit of over writing. That’s not the right way to say it. I keep on writing and writing and writing to get an idea work in my mind. During that time I speak aloud and walk around, kiss my own hands, play guitar badly(I never played guitar in a good way). It is a chaos. Most of these over writing just goes to trash. Sometime they may make sense. Here is what came out during the writing of “Theory Of Failure” interestingly the Theory did not rhymed and this one did. “Theory” right now is sitting in my google docs I may make some more changes here and there and you will see it on Wednesday.

The Riven Riff.

Charm of blistering youth blazed,
Making every moment glorious,
The moment lived erased,
In a forgotten past sung melodious.

The mindset changed again and again,
Silly emotions in depths of mind left,
Blisters unknown that intermittently pained,
And depression in silence grown heft.

A lot have been known,
Still the pathos of the forgotten past lingered,
A lot left to unknown,
And in sadness and disappointment mind angered.

The fire in the mind to every corner grown,
The force within in every way charged,
Boiled blood through baked veins flown,
And every sense in the chaos of mind enlarged.

Years stacked to decade
And decades stacked to a lifetime,
The body through time fade,
A wrinkled up mass of skin way past its prime.

Into one hand of time and one hand of fate slip,
From the completeness of a lifetime filled,
In arrogance, gladness, anger all gripped,
Yet, disappointment through every senses spilled.

All that in reality, fantasy and spirituality attained,
All came with reason forced from within skillfully,
As the memory of the reason from within reigned,
The mangled mind in glory of emotions shined willfully.

That face, that mind, those dancing scenes, the musical notes,
Those unrhymed verses that rhymed in feelings given,
Oh’ within the soul they all will always float,
Though, rest of the lifetime in the riff of that soul riven.

Pain Of A Blessing.

Someone asked me in my myspace site is there anything new, I said “Nothing new” yes there is nothing new. So I just wrote something I thought I will first post there. There is hardly anyone who knows that I have a myspace account. There are some. Even they did not showed up there. hehehe. On Monday April 28, 2008 I posted the following poem there.

Pain Of A Blessing.

Through the dark paths gladness left,
As the blessing mind forgot the gone by days
Leaving feelings of a dagger piercing,
Deep into spine, where pain never felt,
As sadness, fear, and anger in disappointment drowned.

Not felt the known feelings of love,
Not felt the unknown feelings of your touch,
There is a hunger inside that depicts,
The truth of of the yearnings of unknowns,
And it all takes your face from this day.

Oh’ followed the dreams I thought ageless,
When through every root of hairs on me,
Pain of passions lost clutched and squeezed,
And the many times bloodless I fell,
Where none stood to lend a hand,
New dreams were formed and lifted,
Back on to legs and I ran and ran and ran,
After all those that came through senses,
Now I know not what a true dream is,
As all that I followed were curses humanity left.

A bleeding heart in my hand youth left,
And it will bleed rest of a lifetime I will live,
As what I was shown will shine bright,
Filling more blood in my already stretched veins,
And never I will free my mind off you,
And never will I live a day without the memory,
Of a blessing in the youthful days known,
A blessing spelled by you,
A blessing which is you.

Never will I bow before another human,
Never will I bury the truth of myself,
May it be that a synonym of failure I become,
May it be that the face of nightmares I become,
But through it all I still will remember,
The blessing you are and you were.