Futility

Brick by brick, on a field of green
You built them strong and mighty tall
Walls to make you deaf and blind
Yet you see them still and hear them all

Pillars and beams to bar the sky
Mortar, mud and cauldrons of tar
Visions and thoughts they seep in still
No window unshut nor a door ajar

Curtains, coats and blankets hazaar*
Ales, wines, smoke as blue as the bard
The din of waves and the twinkle of stars
And yet these pangs, they strike you hard.

Forlorn, tired and aching you lie,
Throw spiteful, rabid questions around.
"Wherefrom do these feelings come?
Where indeed can my peace be found?"

A fool you are to think you can try
To shut out from you that which you breathe
When the air is steeped and laden with
Desires and dissappointments of a bygone bliss. 

*hazaar - thousand (hindi)

Anguish

Tis' a poor heart this, slashed and slain.

Intimately familiar with the contrivances of pain.
Anguish flowing like it were never meant to stop,
Swirling amidst the waves and in every cursed drop.

But let there be no mistake made 

In knowing which way my thoughts swayed.

I only speak of a loss of real love

No regrets held, no anger brewing on the stove. 

They say time is a healer and she will cure,

In a hundred years, she will I'm sure,  

But now, who do I chastise with this lowly flame

When all I have is myself to blame? 

An everlasting afternoon

It lingers like an everlasting afternoon
But now I ache for the barren night
Promise is a hazy gleam in the sky
I shield my eyes, I look away.

The rolling seas bring more to lament
To the shores of this quivering dawn
I tell myself it was worth this pain
And then I look for love elsewhere.

Tied up to the memory train
The churning is far too real.
Roiling and seething, like a black storm
In the confines of an undersized ship.

How will I sleep, how will I love,
While I carry it within?
How will I breathe, and make it count
When I'm listless and lost in your spin?

A fleeting gift

I beseech you to stay still

Lest you may stir the air and cause,

This dear moment to slip away

From the grasp of my senses in sway.

Rendered to quaking mush,

By the warmth of her tender touch,

Body, mind and soul - drifting

The veil of heaviness - lifting.

A song on the winter breeze

Sad in words, but of sweet tune

Through the depths of a black window

Adorned by a lonely moon.

I beseech you, my heart, stay still.

Lest you may wake her dreaming eyes.

Lest the world may turn wan again.

At the dying of this bittersweet fire.

Thinking on the Move - Words

These words are lifeless without you.
They do not breathe or feel without your embrace.

You think they are mine and yet, I don't see how. True, I dwelled upon and gave them form. But I would refrain to the best of my abilities from claiming them as my own. I would like to believe that they were always here - floating like orbs in all our minds, but caged by the rawness or absence of a means to express. I only carry them for a while and cherish their essence. Of what good is a wind that wont blow? What good is a seed you cannot sow? The moment they mean something to you, you carry them as well as I. The real wonder is how they go to you and yet from me, they are not gone. A singular ship that sails to its sailor. Read them, feel them and grant them life.

These words are lifeless without you.
They do not breathe or feel without your embrace.

Moving On

As the sun sets upon our stage
We need to move on and away
Lets not talk of the given and the taken
Just remember what came about and what will stay.

The yearning, like a slow flame may die
And leave nothing more than smoke and wax
But in words, songs and memories
May the treasure of our moments lie.

Maybe a day out on an unfamiliar street
Or in green paths of a woody dream
We will be passers by and we may meet
Let our words be happy and our embrace, sweet.

A trinket's wish

Crashing waves, mighty and white
A bundle of exhilaration and fright
Rise, roll, sweep and recede.
Imprisoned by the moon or are you free?

Happy greens, on dancing trees
Twinkling drops amidst your leaves
Sinewy boughs and a trunk of steel
Do you desire to walk and be free?

Standing proud, o mountain high
A temple of beauty, under starry skies
I wonder if beneath your tremors you hide
A dream of wings? an unrequited desire?

Ranger of skies, on steeds of glass
I wish to be as errant as thee
O mighty wind, the freest of all
Lend me your wings and release me.

To touch oceans, forests and mountains alike
To touch minds and hearts and have them believe
Its not folly for mere trinkets to dream
To wish to roam the world and to be free.