Time and the Wooden box

A pampered box of wood;
scratched, cut, and demolished;
stands in the corner of my heart.
still to be noticed, silenced to be heard.

It holds the memories; raw and baked,
tiny and huge, accomplishments and failures;
from beginning to the end; from young to the old.

The vein in the box holds blood,
the blood and wings made to fly,
but didn’t, couldn’t, and can’t.
time and time, it holds to run; but never it does.

The wood is breaking, and decreasing in self,
trying and trying, but couldn’t find a thing,
when the hope keeps flying;
escapes memories from the torn-hole.

The Midnight Werewoman

Once upon a nightmare,
Under the oak tree,
Gazing the October sky,
Painted darker than black,
I flumped onto the blood-red ground beneath me,
Oozing melancholy of my gifted wounds,
Asalia tears betraying my iris-coloured iris,
And falling down on my lonely scintilla.
The cold breeze ruffling through my grey furs,
The rust lining my spine,
The blackened sharp nails with bits of flesh,
My intangible ugly halo shining bright.
The darkness of this light hurts me,
What am I?
The screaming pain in my bones,
Every full moon,
Splitting my soul, one by two,
And every time,
The tinted truth in the glow of this darkness,
Petrifies me, haunts me,
The slices of life, smeared with death around me,
The instant burning rage,
When I switch into this animal,
Failing to realise,
The shrieking mistakes,
The apologies lodged in my throat,
The wailing human soul of mine,
Through crevices in my heart,
Can I still be forgiven?
This isn’t my choice,
It’s the nature’s imprisonment to me,
The waning hues each time.
The lone wolf in me is still breathing,
Weary and frazzled,
Curled up in her furs,
My human side struggling to take over now,
Waiting for the Night’s final veil,
Perhaps, it’s over for tonight,
As I see the sun rising,
I notice my white skin coming back,
I’m human now,
Till the next full moon,
Once upon another nightmare,
A werewolf and her hopeless despair.
            
-Manu

IF I POETISE A MOTHER..

Eyes that shine with experience,
Wrinkled lines on the forehead,
Subtle and solemn face
that hides fears,
And Smile of a silly teenager.
Eyelashes wet with worries,
Some silvery hair strands waving out,
Endless prayers of well being,
She recites
And sole responsibility of hers,
She believes,
To seed happiness into lives of loved.
O! Maybe the angel itself has taken birth
In human form,
To set free the mortals
From worldly tribulations.
Indeed She is a mother.

What’s a world without the gentle caressing of a mother….?

She’s the one who shows the least pain when we fell and have a wound. She hides her worries for you. She is the one who stays up late just so you could complete your studying for the examination next day

When you grow up in a teenager, she deals with your new grumpy side where you say idiotic things to her, she never even take those words and stick to them and be mad at you for your whole life. Still she is the one who helps us when we have an emotional side up on.

And when you do grow into a beautiful woman or a handsome man, she gets filled up in pride and watches you carry out your life as perfectly as she aspired.

In and all, she spends her whole life growing you and then when she leaves this world, she is all satisfied and contented as she completed as sole responsibility.

A little tribute to our mothers.

A FAMILY, NOT AT HOME | FRIENDSHIP DAY SPECIAL | POEM

Shared, Cared, celebrated,
the moments of fallen days,
nostalgically memorized,
some path traveled with an army of own,
the ruling legends, a family, not at home.
A group of persons,
met in different phases of life,
a stranger at first,
and a friend at the end.
some met at childhood,
some at young
and some will be with me until I die.
They taught and learned,
lessons and chapters,
of life and lies,
the funny, the funky,
bros and sis of mine.
With pros and cons,
with twists and turns,
we burn a lot, we fought a lot
and survived, at the best of all.
we had hard times,
we had best times,
we are growing,
we’ll have more times.
Let’s not thank,
just live along.
If life got a second,
from its end,
Let us ask for, one more friend.
HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY

Read complete poem here


Confluence of love | REPOST

The love of yours, To the love of mine,
The affinity of heart-beats, To remain alive.
The eyes of yours, And the eyes of mine,
Enough to see, The world of ourselves.
The arm of yours, To the arms of mine,
Enough to reside, For the whole of our lives.
The lip of yours, To the lips of mine,
A completeness, And cheers to the life.
Your trembling soul, To my closeness,
Your bowed eyes, And my yearning life,
Makes it adorn, The coveting soul of mine.

“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art” | JOHN KEATS

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
         Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
         Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
         Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
         Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
         Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
         Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.


FIRST LOVE | REPOST

The way she passed the bridge of my memory,
I lost my way out of the senses.
The lights of courage in me was diminished,
Flaunted by the winds of first love.

Her gaze of glitters stared at me,
Like she holds secrecy of wings,
A breath that dissolved in me,
felt like a fragrance of undiscovered life.

I hated being intimated my own thoughts,
But it does happen to me,
Like a life that was not the same ever since.

She could have seen me,
A glimpse of me to her,
Or a never-ending gaze,
Could be something there,
I must have done,
But that moment of love,
Is a love that loses to win.


DARKNESS | LORD BYRON

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill’d into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum’d,
And men were gather’d round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other’s face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain’d;
Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
Extinguish’d with a crash—and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil’d;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and look’d up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash’d their teeth and howl’d: the wild birds shriek’d
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl’d
And twin’d themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food.
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again: a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought—and that was death
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails—men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devour’d,
Even dogs assail’d their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish’d men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lur’d their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answer’d not with a caress—he died.
The crowd was famish’d by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap’d a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they rak’d up,
And shivering scrap’d with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other’s aspects—saw, and shriek’d, and died—
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless—
A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirr’d within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp’d
They slept on the abyss without a surge—
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expir’d before;
The winds were wither’d in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish’d; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them—She was the Universe.


Selected MUST READ BOOKS OF LORD BYRON

The Complete Works of Lord Byron: Including His Suppressed Poems, and Others Never Before Published; Volume 1

A MASTERPIECE| REPOST

Sitting besides the blue-ish river of Atlanta,
Staring, the filled sky with grains,
Glittering in the nights.
He beseeches for a masterpiece.

A thought, that can change,
his life, before, it ends.

Carving, through the muds of soil,
he began his journey of life.

Some emotions, like an ocean,
with devotion, and his imagination,
created some wonderful creations.

Dolls, to play with,
Sculptures, to decor with,
Utensils, to cook and eat with.
Love and emotions put into it,
to live with.

Paving ways to the thirst of his creativity,
to accomplish, its starvation,
to achieve its thoughts, of giving life,
life to the cluster of soil and water.

Now scattered, within itself,
asks for relief, in search of something,
a masterpiece,
to mark his name,
in the history of this world.

Never found, was a masterpiece.
Found, was never a masterpiece.
Life squanders, to a limitless,
infinite, search for the pearls.

Never seen but catching,
Attentions of all, calling,
hidden inside,
deep and within,
the structured, boundaries of flesh,
Craving, is a masterpiece.

THE FORGIVEN BETRAYAL

Oh! When the heart flutters with the beats of love, it’s the most serene feeling in this universe. But what anyone can do when the love of your life is the reason for your existence, and is taken from you or betrays you. you couldn’t just put that love behind and move on,can you?

The love never dies and so does your feelings. If by any chance you’ve got to know that your love was not the one who betrayed you, but the destiny did, you want your lifeline to hold you when you count your last breaths.

Oh! This feeling!!!!! It takes my senses to another level….

Presenting you this piece of mine….to say the above in some woven words…

THE FORGIVEN BETRAYAL

Oh! The light of faith has gone
And the serene blindness in it,
Warmth of the hearts dulled
Have icy questions in it…
The silken thread of trust
Is somehow, broken,
And the feathery feelings
Are now, just a token…
The pious love never gets faded
Though,
Wails with the tears of betrayal,
And stands still on that trail
where the hearts met…
Ablazes everytime,
when the lost time flashes in the mind.
But flies in heaven,
When relives the moments;
Yes! Those one of a kind….
On the deathbed,
The last wish is to hold hands,
The warmth would return,
The cracks of heart would heal…
Peaceful smile on the lips
with the touch of beloved,
And the eyes would close,then
Forever,
As everything’s now,forgiven….
                                                    -MANU