All I know is some things can never be replaced
they've been misplaced
Left there to linger
Confusing and tying me up with a lace
A lace strengthened with time
So sour and bitter like lime
Trying to unlock the secret with my rime
But I've pasted so many signs
Found myself in nowhere waiting for nothing
Hoping for something
Have I lost control
Or have you stole my soul
Or is it resentment of getting hurt
Or is it defending my own avoiding the dirt
Can't see the reasons
I see through you
Why can't you see through me
I've listened deeper
Why can't you listen to me
Let me enlighten you
Indulge your senses
Guide you through my map
Put down the fences
Soak you up with loads of me
Then spin you in rinses
Am ties and twirls
So open your mind
And let me flow through
No I don't go with the flow
That might bother you
Been long since I've glimpsed the though of you
Got me wondering
am I hurt or have I never known the truth
I've forgotten am I hurt
Or am just too layered for anyone to dig through
My convictions were so strong, I had finally figured out life, my pain had ceased and my outlook was once again positive.
My concrete ground has crumbled; I trip as my feet are caught in the cracks as I walk past.
Before I envied those who had, and despised being the one without. Then I gained, and stitched my life’s organ on the fabric stitch by stitch, painstakingly sewing myself my own vulnerability with each day. There, my greatest strength became my greatest weakness. When the hand came down and ripped out my needlepoint, it effectively tore out my very life’s blood.
A wraith, I floated though a land no longer my own. I was a mere shadow of myself, the person I had been a thing to be mourned, but I could not perform even this simple task, for I had no way to generate the necessary emotions.
Never trust, for in doing so there is nothing to be gained, and all to be lost.
But still, I endured.
I struggled forth, all of my strength devoted to placing one foot in front of the
day by day
hour by hour
minute by minute.
And I moved forward.
Like a fairytale princess waking from the enchanted sleep, I opened my eyes and for the first time in months looked around.
I was me.
I was not lost, nor sleeping, nor dead.
I was very much alive, and all the wiser of what waits on the other side.
I AM NEVER GOING THERE AGAIN.
I dug through the trash, searching for the remains of my once-beating embroidery. Between the banana peels and non-recycled water bottles I found the scrap of material, tattered at the edges and unraveling at my touch. I picked it up, and pulled out my needle and thread, setting to work once again.
This time the task was purposeful. I took off my shirt and pushed an arm through the sleeve, grabbing hold of the end and then pulling back, turning it inside out. There I began to sew, using each stitch as a reinforcing shackle, holding the artwork prisoner. Though confinement is not pleasant, it’s safe.
That’s what matters.
I was strong.
I went without, and did not desire anything different.
I needed nothing else, and my convictions strengthened by the second.
After all, it can’t be a poor philosophy if it ends the pain.
Why do you look at me like that?
I am right! I will never again be vulnerable, open to such cruelty. Don’t say that! What do you know anyway? How could you possibly give me advice: you, who has everything? You, who lives the life my foolish, naïve self once dreamt of?
What compels you to wield the jackhammer?
Strengthened me with kindness
Given me back my worth
Empowered me by your love
Unearthed the beauty that I didn’t know was there
Renewed me with your love
But you looked away
Now I see
I am nothing without you
Unable to rise on my own
I was broken and empty
Only you had the power to make me whole again…
…and only you left me here, incomplete.
Every noon we sit for food,
sit in chairs cold as tombstones
even after waiting in the sun.
On cloudy days they are ice
and we wonder why the wood
and iron have so much hate.
I believed only men could hate,
and pondered while having my food.
We only bring bowls made of wood
as they don’t mark the tombstones,
but like the chairs they are ice,
unaffected by the sun.
My thoughts fixate on the sun
and how light does not wash hate
but should be melting the ice
while we prepare our midday food.
Still cold are the pieces of wood
we use, and the dark tombstones.
Now I know that the wood
is simply blocked from the sun,
and the heavy tombstones
siphon off of our hate
to use as bitter food
to help them maintain the ice.
I came to realize the ice
is not only in the wood
but covering our food,
defying the warmth of the sun.
We realize that our hate
is why there are tombstones.
All the hard etched tombstones
are now three feet beneath ice
next to us, and our hate
in the iron and wood.
We pray for brighter sun
and some stronger food.
But heavy food won’t delay our tombstones.
Nor the brightest sun melt our ice
stuck in wood boxes, strengthened with hate.
In this world, there is only the night
The towns are desolate and barren
A full moon sits atop its pillar of light
Lost souls wander, seeking their Charon
(The world around here is starting to change
Ruled by men wearing suits and ties in the open
And hooded robes with pendants off stage
Gathering for rituals to leave this world broken)
Chaos reigns where the monsters we created
Ran rampant, finally free from their abyss
No matter where you go here, you'll find traces
Of the destruction and death they left in their bliss
There are others like me, traveling the roads
Searching for those who are responsible
For this tyranny within all of our souls
But I know that only I made that possible
I used to be a king of some land here
But was overthrown by own madness
The face of a man I thought I knew leered
I see now that man was myself
Now, cities lay smothered in debris
And the roads bare no souls
As the leaves fall from the trees
I take my leave from the knoll
I travel without a sound for quite some time
These worn down shoes still on my feet
Carry me where I believe I will find
Some piece of me I swore was obsolete
Something more horrible than anything imagined
More destructive than atom bombs or meteor showers
Something more powerful than anything crafted
More structured than those who built these towers
It wants to tear me apart
It wants me gasping for air
Down on the ground, cluching my heart
Watching the pain spread everywhere
The time as has come for the final clash
(I don't know if I can win)
Between the most sinister piece of my past
(I am strengthened from within)
And though I might lose against this beast
(Your light is still guiding me)
I'll fight my hardest at the very least
(I'm just searching for the opportunity)
the layers unfold like spring time flowers
aching to be viewed
by sunlight eyes
a winter spent
under the heavy hands
of the foundry
shaped and strengthened
until it is finally ready
to steal the breath
from your lungs
and make your heart
To the Noble One, Him I will call SIR:
Inspire us with your Legacy, dear Captain of the Plym!
May your Spirit live on; Your Soul everlasting
That Generations from and beyond your Lineage
Will learn from your Values and carry through
The Traditions of Love, Health, Honour and Family.
So it shall be.
Even as your House sleeps beneath the Cool, Earth-Blanket
You can hear your Three Soldiers cry and pledge their Acclaim:
One already conquered the Waves; Ready to fulfill your Dream with Gold,
The Other strengthened His Will; Bracing for his Chosen Path;
And the Youngest - your Lamp-Bearer - calm but determined in His Goal,
Kept His Journal's Promise; And resolved to face the World.
Finally - the Endearing One - whose Tears She held for Breath,
Placed Twelve Pink Carnations on your Blanket; One Stem for each Moon,
And for each Moon the Leaves added another Fruit to her Basket
Remembering their Heart's Grown Tale; And Seeds burst into Bloom.
And as They began to retire from this Love-Worn Day,
With the Eldest remembering his Assignment to Drive
The Twelve Pink Carnations suddenly sprang-up to Play,
Speared their Roots to the Ground; And used the Soil's Feet to Jive
To that Lonely but Powerful Hymn of Praise:
"Thank you, dear Heavens, for this Wonderful Father!
Thank you for the Years, Months, Hours and Minutes spent with Him!
Bring the Captain to his Bounty, O Mighty Roar of the River!
Feed Him with the Light that only Shines from Within!"
And as They left, smiling, turning the Page without regret
The Sexton stood nearby, witnessing the Event
Of the Family resolved to rest and celebrate this Day,
Remembering the Noble Deeds of how this Man forged and lived
And the Sexton, in his home-grown Promise,
Wiped the Father's Stone with an Ivory-Cloth and placed it to his Chest:
"To Live my own Tale; To Write my own Page,
With you as an Example on how to make it the Best!"
Thus the Song ends; With him retreating to the Tree,
Showing his Fruits of how he can be Devoted as HE.
There came a time in my life
When I had to leave the past behind
and start everything anew
But I shall never ever forget
Those who at that moment
failed to stand by my side
Especially the ones
who gave up on me
And therefore, dumped me.
Thank you for dumping me
You’ve helped me to grow
Thank you for leaving me
You’ve strengthened me,
Rough breaths escapes me,
dashing through the shadow'd night;
My mind is triggered by a known scent,
as are the others who soon redirect,
towards what we all know is a common goal;
Claws dig into the dirt,
springing me forward faster and faster,
eyes glinting brightly in the darkness.
Someone caught sight, a howl sounds,
speeds increase with strengthened bounds,
towards what we all know is;
Determination radiates from all,
coming together slowly and surely,
power pulsing and connecting us.
Right in front of me is the target,
I lunge in and latch on,
confirming that we all get the common necessity;
It positively affects my mood.
I become more independent of the society, I help people with their stuff and entertain them with my poems, stories, couplets, jokes, essays, songs & guitar.
I also take to first-hand social service whenever possible and I've also taught some underprivileged children & imparted elementary education to them.
I get my poetry ideas from this activity.
I think & feel differently about the world.
I look the others into their eyes with piercing confidence and I think you never had that confidence.
I feel stronger & more in control.
My appetite has greatly improved from being a poor eater in my childhood to a healthy eater in my adulthood.
My virility isn't affected at all and instead, I gain more stamina and manliness; my tool is strengthened.
My imagination power, IQ and hence smartness is also increased - believe me these have actually increased.
I cleared 9 & 10 examinations in my engineering degree two different times at one attempt each and my response time is greatly improved.
I become more confident.
My strength isn't reduced, but I go to the gym and I exercise as good as others.
My power & force are perfectly normal.
My eyes are shining bright, dark black in the middle of pure white.
I have never got any dark circles.
It takes me no more than 10 minutes to recover completely, it depends on the body about how it performs.
Over-use of anything - even oxygen as it oxidizes body & mind - is utterly harmful.
Quality has become thicker & brighter each day I exercise.
So keep hands on your tools than some crappy books blaspheming against the new-found rage.
Consult an expert instead of developing your own stories or believing the same old crappy stories.
Everything has a limit and within that limit, it is extremely enjoyable.
Just one last tip: Keep yourself humane with yourself & don't become a dumb & helpless addict to get embarrassed in front of your family one day.
Now if you feel that I'm spreading blasphemy & bad thoughts, you may please stop reading my poems instead of cursing me in vain.
My HP Poem #157
© Atul Kaushal