Thursday, August 14, 2014

Motherland


She’s a place called heaven,
Her breath’s a song.
From the noon till the eleven,
In her name we sing along.

She’s a land of souvenirs,
The lakes to the rivers sing and cheer.
She’s a book read sincere,
Her breath’s a rhyme that’s clear.

She’s a mother that writes a book,
A book in pledge hands always shook.
The place where all Gods look,
Footprints our forefathers took.

Her fruit spelled with FREEDOM!
We are the seeds that sprout.
She’s the land of love and enriched wisdom,
Let’s celebrate without a rout!!!!

Friday, November 8, 2013

A Grey Mind



Sour painter winter,
I drown in your wilderness…
The crying moon with pain to tinker,
The sky to laugh at my dry emptiness…

The cold wind to seep,
Her memory’s all that’s left to keep…
Dreams all torn and bleak,
Sweet misery that lies beside to set me free…

Her finger that once laid feeble on this empty palm,
Now the walls shutter to the drug’s ripple,
Her eyes now beg for these pupils to disarm...
And her breath stings like wooden teeth fed to a waxed nipple…

A violin played on an empty stage,
The musician cries to life’s tragedy…
Strings scream in defying rage,
Guns to kill agonized blasphemy…  

I’m a personification of pain,
My eyes lie dead in a cage...
A pill to tickle an aggressive vein,
I’m a torn book with an empty page…

Hope lies dead in an empty grave,
A cigarette lit in a grey painted room…
Cobwebs to watch and crave,
A closed door sealed with a broom…

The needle stings pale to my skin,
A wound sterilized in rotted gin…
The roof painted in grey ink,
A sea of sorrow calls for me to finally sink…

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Conscience - The Other State of Mind

" Note: This poem is fictitious and is based on the psychological effects of an individual involved in war crimes and the ill effects as depicted. :-) For world peace..."

Advisory - Content might not be suitable for sensitive readers. 



His Brittle eyes seep,
Frigid lips waxed still…
A portrait on a shelf to keep,
And soil for a heart to till…

A Centipede eats up the edge,
The play is staged with rage…
An actor burnt alive under the bridge,
An old man despises his age…

His eyes crave for sadness,
Whilst sadness craves for peace… 
The torch lit up with madness,
Time to tickle his hand a tease…

The gun lies naked on the table,
 His fingerprints recite its only law …
The blood painted on the curtain writes a fable,
Spelt with names he lusted like a saw…

The night was cold with the wind still young,
His mind filled with the anthems they sung…
Chants recited from the depths of a lung,
A weeping brays where the bells once rung…

The bullet lain cold on the bed,
His only friend to sleep in filth...
A tragedy swallowed the soul he once wed,
The tragedy he once fought now just guilt…

The medal shined with the same old pride,
Yet his veins sufficed seldom…
The war is death’s smiling bride,
What gives life and what the hell’s freedom?

Confused with thoughts,
A pillow to invite lost nightmares…
The sheet tied in knots,
Bedbugs now his only dare…

He looks outside the window,
The moon hates the sight of him…
The stars have no words to endow,
The wind all cold and grim…

He once stood upon a stage,
Named a soldier who fought a war…
To a play where the crowd cheered in rage,
The same voices now afar…

No pigeon now brings him peas,
The medals now just fruits on a wooden tree…
His uniform now sold in a lease,

For the children to play a game called Peace!!

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

The Awaited Agony: Beauty and the Beast - A Gothic Etymology - Part V – A Beauty for the Beast



PS: The lines of ‘Beauty’ are written by Beneeta Xavier.

Beast:
Your Iris as wet as the rain that pours down when I see them,
I’ll spill mine to see your daze;
Your breath as gentle as heaven,
Like a flower steadfast in a frigid stem;
I’ll write you a poem forever with no pen!

Beauty:
Like rainbows in the rain,
You’re breath for a terrain;
Like meadows in a plain,
This breath for you makes me go insane.

Beast:
Why ponder when thine heart resides in mine;
You’re a clock to a pendulum to this heart’s chime.
If a sea could write itself a tide;
These eyes to you are none but cries!!!!

Beauty:
            Then stumble and fall if you dare,
            Into this tremendous lair!
            For in it you find care,
            A flower that truly scares!

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Coffee and Tragedy




 (For the Stray and Abandoned.... With Loads of Hope...)

He looks up at his fingers,
The pretending sky hides in the back…
Sweet wine soaked in ginger,
Asleep was his conscience in a knitted sack*…

The pale winds of a moaning winter,
Imprints of his spine on a frozen seashore…
The wind to enact as the ocean’s singer,
A sky painted on a glass door…

A Cloud wept for a star's named a sinner*,
The butterfly sleeps in a curl on his chin…
Her wings sway in a lucid shiver,
The sand lies drunk to a morning gin.…

Traffic wakes him of his sleep,
The dream is gone and on the road was he...
He had no home and so he'd weep,
On that day when the world was free...

Gone was a fish in a stolen car*,
A cat moans hungry for its meal…
Alas died a fly in a porcelain jar,
A thorn awaits its slaughter in a kneel…

The street still torn and withered,
Asleep are the children in woolen capes*…
He writes his sorrow with a sleeping feather,
The streetlight eats a bowl of grapes*..

The horn sings as a bus passed,
Walking past were people with plastic masks*...
A florist frowns as his fields were grassed*,
His mug filled with coffee blessed from a flask...

She looks down at his anxious smile,
As the smell of caffeine fills the air...
He'd wish for her to stay a while,
Yet the traffic was too loud for her to bear...

He watched as she sped in a rhyme,
Least did she realize that she spilled a dime...
His will to help would be a poor man's crime,
Yet he fetched it to save life from a lie..

The evening fleet flew away,
An owl sang the night a song in vein...
The candle cheered as a firefly played,
The dime still pending in a jar astray...

He slept that night and yet had no dreams,
He hoped to see her the next morning indeed...
The children slept eating their ice cream,
A tree sprouts out of a planted seed....

The Traffic woke him up as it did always,
People still wore masks to start the day...
A boy waits for candy as his mother pays,
The traffic smiles in silence as its victims fray*... 

He waited for her to come that day,
The dime still lying in a box of clay..
A band went marching all the way,
The blisters cramped up on his dampened face..

The day went by and the clock struck noon,
He still waited hoping to see her soon...
His mug filled with coffee and a brittle spoon,
A loaf of bread is this man's gifted boon...

A newspaper flew past his feet,
He saw her picture and the band skipped a beat..
On that day his heart sowed no wheat*,
The pain was all that heart could eat..

Her death proclaimed on printed paper,
The dime still shined like wine in water..
Walked past was a merchant and a draper,
He drew no portraits as he was no painter..

He walked past the traffic as the winter wept,
His knees shivered as the cold winds past them swept...
He dug the pocket where that dime was kept,
He reached her grave as the saddened evening crept...

He knelt and wept for a minute not more,
As his eyes dampened as the rain began to pour...
On that grave was a name that was sworn,
He untied the scarf on that day he wore...

The mother who had then abandoned,
He was her son till that day he was orphaned....
A life he lived like a fruit that never ripened,
On that day he felt that time was destined...

What's this world without its burdens,
A child is born to become a stray abandoned...
We remorse and our hearts softens,
Alas ends this tragedy that could happen...

Key:

*In a knitted sack - The mind

*A Cloud weep for as a star's named a sinner - The sun is depicted as a sinner as rises behind clouds in a winter dawn.

*Gone was a fish in a stolen car - greedy rich people traveling in cars.

*Asleep are the children in woolen capes - children driven to poverty sleeping with woolen blankets.

*The streetlight eats a bowl of grapes - The dim street lights during the day as its cloudy. The light bulbs are depicted as grapes for the way they look.

*People with plastic masks - people wearing smiles while they walk past each other. smiles are depicted as plastic masks.

*A florist frowns as his fields were grassed - A florist (A man who sells flowers) is upset the flowers are dead.. When flowers die they droop down like grass and hence the personification.

*The traffic smiles in silence as its victims fray - The traffic is heavy and the people who are stuck in it are not very happy about it.

*On that day his heart sowed no wheat - He was not happy that day. 

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Adolescence




 (This is for the mislead youth finding a way through…) 

A statue in a four walled prison,
    Entrapment screaming in rage….
Like the moonlight bleeds in its crimson,
    A wounded pigeon without a cage…

The wind and its carnage,
    A wall that chants rebellion…
The lamp with a taunting hemorrhage,
      A loser with a medallion ….

The gift with a ribbon of curses,
    A feather to write a book…
The wooden box with no roses,
    A string that’s got no hook…

The firefly in a jar of wax,
    A candle with a wooden wick…
The knight with a marble axe,
    A flower on a porcelain stick…

The paint on a broken glass,
    A ring on a swollen thumb…
Coffee inside a woolen flask,
    A memory sunk in rum…

The flight to a landing plane,
A chime on a dead telephone…
The spite in a laughing face,
    An eyelid carved in limestone…

The nicotine in a stubbed cigarette,
    A weed in a tulip’s garden…
The tint in a street light silhouette,
    A sear in a winter jargon…

Thursday, July 19, 2012

She

She’s a lily that blooms a year,
She’s madness in a woolen sear…
She’s all I am, all I can hear,
She’s my precious tear…

She’s breath and all that breathes,
She’s a raindrop in an angel’s teeth…
She’s life and all that heeds…
She’s her, and she’s all I need…

She’s a flower as I’m the bee,
She’s the root and I’m the seed…
Born is a slapping of love pure and deep,
She’s love, She ‘s my love indeed….