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2. NO ONE IS SMART, WE ALL START AT 0

 

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AND I BE A RIVER

And I shall have peace as a river

And, as ever

I owe none.

 

I craved peace

As wide as Mississippi.

 

Peace,

as encompassing as I fell in

and I resigned

myself to it.

 

And peace

as glistening as clear water

mirroring, glimmering

Peace, as pure as water

still yet moving.

 

It be

staggering

unchanging

rippling

curving

and my constancy in change.

 

And I endlessly be mild

the sprits envelops my sovereignty

and I submit myself.

 

Embedded in words alone

emotions,

as peace,

never arose over

and

were left underneath

as always – as they were

ADVENT

Some things I advocated
Some things befell themselves
An ambiguous alchemy brought them together
And my craving no less than desire
Asked for a glass of water
That no one could ever give me
And I see a provocative correspondence
Resemblances of what I did and
To what others never thought of
And my dignity stood aloof
Far where it was nowhere seen
I like Amazon- dextral in my own ways
Like internal – traitor and a deceiver
None the less that I resemblance now
Nothing that is intrinsic or impersonal
But rather serene and unruffled
Because its an advent of
Ambrosia, Food of Gods
An advent of amelioration
An advent of amity
Advent of love that is amorphous …always …

ENVISION

Upon the glistening sand, I stand
Far away in this realm, I see no land
So unsullied, vibrant
And I be so irresolute
That the light of iridescence
No longer does fall on me
What ambushes me is this invidious air
My invocations are no longer apprehended
For my visions offer contempt
Those which act injudiciously
And for miles, I searched for –
A beacon of sympathy

KHAMOOSHI

Thame paani se behatar Vo gardish
Jo hava bankar la deti hai lehar usme
Is subah se nahi hai koi ummed mujhe
Jiski Kiran nahi dekh pati hai-
meri ye aakhen
Na jaane ye shaam
Kya samjha rahi hai
Aandhera hi hai aks mera
Par bahar Ki chahat hai mujhe
Hai Vo mere darmiyan – Vo dariya
Par ab ban gayi hai uski gehrahi-
Deewar mere liye
Kaaru badalo se guzarish Ki garaj bhi jao
Par nahi rahi hai Vo haisiyat mujhme
Khawwaish hai Ki kasish ka katra
Chidak Jaye is khamoshi pe
Dekho to khawaab kaise bikhar rahe hai
Is khammoshi Ki Khushboo
Dekha to khudgarz bhi farishta ban gaya
Sahil se dikhti hai Vo ilahi Ki Roshni
Na jaane kis saathi ke saath milkar
Kar rahi hai saajish
Ab sabr bhi nahi hota us sehar ka
Jo nafrat ko bhi mushkil bana deti hai
Zahir hai Ki zamir Ki zarrurat
Ka ehsaas bhi nahi hota hai
Sirf zameen ka zalzala mehsoos hota hai
Khawwisho ka samandar
Sookh sa Gaya hai
Ab to aakhen bhi sharafat kho baithe hai
Na hota hai intezaar-
Na milta hai sukoon
Bas dikhta hai ek sitara
Door souraiya me
Jo sirf takleef deta hai
Kyunki ab to tabahi ka khath bhi
Sukoon deta hai mujhe…

TITLE Series

Hey friends.

Here’s my series- of poems!!!

‘TITLE’ – a collection of 7 poems that tells a beautiful  story!!

 

1)    I forgot to title 

      https://padmajachavansite.wordpress.com/2017/05/04/i-forgot-to-title/

2)    I wish I had titled

https://padmajachavansite.wordpress.com/2017/05/09/i-wish-i-had-titled/

3)    I titled it finally

 

 

4)    My title suffers incompleteness

https://padmajachavansite.wordpress.com/2017/09/01/296/

5)    Why do I title when its glimpse hurts

https://padmajachavansite.wordpress.com/2017/09/01/298/

6)    It doesn’t yield now

https://padmajachavansite.wordpress.com/2017/09/01/300/

7)    I would still strongly wait for the rain

 

THE TITLE DOESN’T YIELD NOW…

The shackles of promises gave a choice
Never does the hope of the best give you your voice
And that my arms are bind
Never do they even bother to find
The eyes that shimmer in the moonlight
Those which were always so eager to fight
Without force or vitality.
Always attaching a disgrace to validity
Strangled in a plethora of deep consciousness
Of the World that I assume -reluctantless
For that was expressed
directly – not necessitated.
And I assumed a silent under- stand
As it wasn’t an explicit understance
The cloud of distrust
Covers me as a sheath-robust
And I become a satirical mimicry
As I stand beside the cemetery,
Of dead assurances,
Of known resemblances.
Now that desecrate ,
Aspires to be a consecrate .
And I – a profane in the name of God
Tarnished and tawdry as rusted sword
Feeding the low taste
Of the mob ,In a desultory haste.
My anger like damp fire
Brings a message of coming dire
For I be Praised or Cursed,
Bold or diffident
Humble or proud
Unformed or tensile
Tentative or unconditioned
Commenced or ceased
Terrene or heavenly
Tessellated or unadorned,
I never be now taken along with
The faint sweetness of wild lavender .

WHY DO I TITLE WHEN ITS GLIMPSE HURTS…

In the labyrinth of macabre tortures
Doing the grim task of burying the alive
Time has swept the length of light
But the rancour didn’t take itself back
Just that the declamation did he express
With an enough strong emotion
As if the voracious wolves did wait for his return
Unfortunately,
He never came back.
Unknown of things as the light mountain air
Far from world that waited his approval
Now that propositions-
Do not even follow the general syllogism
And I in search of both
Lost in the seamy atmosphere
Of betrayal and intrigue
I see the walls with colours -off
And that dirt now stands ov’er
Feelings are now dried up
And now lie upon dried lake
Of unwatered presumptions
Seasoning me to an acceptance
And I in pursuit of sedation
Much sentient of the intolerable confrontations
Like those ridges in sand
There’s a ridge on between-
Ridge between an answer and an acceptance

MY TITLE SUFFERS INCOMPLETENESS

My title suffers incompleteness
 An Overbearing pride is evidenced:
 An evidence of notability:
 An evidence of inferiority –
On an brumous October morning
 The trees appeared  like hazy shapes
 And that the landscape – a blurred outline
-Of the happenings
 A force now desolates everything in my path
 The eyes made an unspoken conversation
 But forgot to involve a self confession
 And that it beats inside this labile mortal thing
 And that there seems,
 No scope in emulating
 Against unequalled theorization.
 And they make an overstatement
 And fail to imitate their politeness
 And now they stand ,
 Against an histrionic despair
 Unaware of his herald of approach
 Always foreshadowing my intensions:
 Declamation with an expression of strong vehemence
 And deception by creation
 Of visually appealing ideas
 And that the hatred –
To the naive observers
 Appears a conjuration
 And that I become weak by mind
 And a retard by heart
 He received by retention
 And forgot with a less assimilation
 Propelled by self egocentrism
 And I in pursuit of morality
 And lost in a sense of self altruism
 The error of ours that glares in the dark
 And I see a flagrant violation of of my intentions
 And that this amplification
 Elaborated and intricated the false beliefs of mine
 Marked by a complex understanding of small things
 And a need of re-refinement of old beliefs and hopes
 Each time we concealed out guilt

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