shiv-aradhya-yadav - Hello Poetry

This romanticism of spirit, I'm consumed by it. No one knows, what it's like, when the fever travels inside you, makes you its puppet. I'm singing with the dignity of a professional. I'm dancing like a mad mad man. I'm fooling my own soul. How long, just how long do I have to act this? The follies of my everyday life. I know not what I believe, I hardly think. I don't know what I do or do not. But still, this, this doing and non-doing burdens me ever so often. Everything boils down to the same.

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Dec 11, 2022

Dec 11, 2022 at 9:18 AM UTC

This romanticism of spirit...

This romanticism of spirit, I'm consumed by it. No one knows, what it's like, when the fever travels inside you, makes you its puppet. I'm singing with the dignity of a professional. I'm dancing like a mad mad man. I'm fooling my own soul. How long, just how long do I have to act this? The follies of my everyday life. I know not what I believe, I hardly think. I don't know what I do or do not. But still, this, this doing and non-doing burdens me ever so often. Everything boils down to the same.

5

A creature so hopeless. The embodiment of boredom. Flips through his life repeating the same sentences often, Never getting to the end in time, Placing the bookmark every now and then, Fails at wooing Routine, Ultimately gives in to immediate reinforcements.

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Aug 11, 2021

Aug 11, 2021 at 4:02 PM UTC

Boredom

A creature so hopeless. The embodiment of boredom. Flips through his life repeating the same sentences often, Never getting to the end in time, Placing the bookmark every now and then, Fails at wooing Routine, Ultimately gives in to immediate reinforcements.

7

I've realised that I have taken life too seriously. So, I delved into absurdist thought. The idea is so fascinating. There's no meaning to this life, to this universe, to this reality of ours. And the protagonist is going insane, trying to find a meaning to this meaningless existence, toying between societal perception and individual perception. In the entirety of his/her journey, ***** meets a variety of people, engages in crazy doings, takes the unwalked path, develops a purpose to prolong this mundane existence, eventually leaves it and drowns in melancholy, haphazardly moves to another purpose, then another, at some point maybe religion, then back to reality, unleashes creativity in the most disdain places, unleashes creativity in the most affluent places, moves to social work, gives out opinions on social realities, and fantasy(utopian society), finally commits to a normal job, earns well, gets married, most likely has children, gives love to them and dies, probably peacefully.

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Aug 11, 2021

Aug 11, 2021 at 3:53 PM UTC

An absurdist story

I've realised that I have taken life too seriously. So, I delved into absurdist thought. The idea is so fascinating. There's no meaning to this life, to this universe, to this reality of ours. And the protagonist is going insane, trying to find a meaning to this meaningless existence, toying between societal perception and individual perception. In the entirety of his/her journey, ***** meets a variety of people, engages in crazy doings, takes the unwalked path, develops a purpose to prolong this mundane existence, eventually leaves it and drowns in melancholy, haphazardly moves to another purpose, then another, at some point maybe religion, then back to reality, unleashes creativity in the most disdain places, unleashes creativity in the most affluent places, moves to social work, gives out opinions on social realities, and fantasy(utopian society), finally commits to a normal job, earns well, gets married, most likely has children, gives love to them and dies, probably peacefully.

1

On different days, He became different, And yet remained the same. He was amusing. He was otherworldly. He had something in him, Which made him eerily different. He listened. He listened wholeheartedly. He was the only one, Who felt real. He peeked into thoughts. He responded in silences. He captured the soul and the heart, So effortless was his gaze. A gaze that brought smile, A gaze that brought stillness, A gaze that sparked question, A gaze that sparked wonder.

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Jan 28, 2021

Jan 28, 2021 at 4:52 PM UTC

The ventriloquist's dummy

On different days, He became different, And yet remained the same. He was amusing. He was otherworldly. He had something in him, Which made him eerily different. He listened. He listened wholeheartedly. He was the only one, Who felt real. He peeked into thoughts. He responded in silences. He captured the soul and the heart, So effortless was his gaze. A gaze that brought smile, A gaze that brought stillness, A gaze that sparked question, A gaze that sparked wonder.

19

The man delves in the grim settings of rooms, Tickling bones of the dark, Perusing silences so beautiful and monstrous, Gazing at oddities so dead and alive. These settings communicate a bunch of languages, Sometimes, even gibberish. Wrapped in a trance, the man becomes a tune in the song. He becomes the friend of the loner. He becomes the itch of the room. Pouring out his reality, he becomes the air of the room.

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Dec 29, 2020

Dec 29, 2020 at 4:35 PM UTC

Grim settings

The man delves in the grim settings of rooms, Tickling bones of the dark, Perusing silences so beautiful and monstrous, Gazing at oddities so dead and alive. These settings communicate a bunch of languages, Sometimes, even gibberish. Wrapped in a trance, the man becomes a tune in the song. He becomes the friend of the loner. He becomes the itch of the room. Pouring out his reality, he becomes the air of the room.

10

A man lurks in the shadows, Runs towards hope. The night sings eerily.

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Dec 29, 2020

Dec 29, 2020 at 1:29 PM UTC

Haiku

A man lurks in the shadows, Runs towards hope. The night sings eerily.

3

The country, Being bewitched and fed in its reality, By the manifestations of skulduggery and humanity.

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Dec 23, 2020

Dec 23, 2020 at 2:34 PM UTC

Good and Evil?

The country, Being bewitched and fed in its reality, By the manifestations of skulduggery and humanity.

4

Finishing the last sip, I took the pause, Reminiscing the scintillating flaws, Conjuring the crowded applause, Staring at the emptied walls, Living the ******* cause.

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Dec 16, 2020

Dec 16, 2020 at 1:13 PM UTC

The emptied cup of tea

Finishing the last sip, I took the pause, Reminiscing the scintillating flaws, Conjuring the crowded applause, Staring at the emptied walls, Living the ******* cause.

5

What is me? Is it me who speaks or a societal version of me? What is me? What constitutes me? What is behind this skin of pathetic falseness? Is there a possibility of finding oneness? Why does this heart thump in vain? Is there nothing left other than pain? What is this pain? Is it really mine? Is there a monster lurking inside that's directing this parody? Or was there a monster all along acting in this tragedy? Do I ever speak my mind? Or soul? Or anything that is remotely me? What is me? Is it all about a stage play of emptiness? Who is the playwright? What will the playwright get from inducing so much pain in the story? Where is the drama, the movement, the charm, the symphony? Who's watching this play? Why is the audience dead? Will no one buy tickets to see this dread?

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Dec 10, 2020

Dec 10, 2020 at 1:18 PM UTC

A stage play of emptiness

What is me? Is it me who speaks or a societal version of me? What is me? What constitutes me? What is behind this skin of pathetic falseness? Is there a possibility of finding oneness? Why does this heart thump in vain? Is there nothing left other than pain? What is this pain? Is it really mine? Is there a monster lurking inside that's directing this parody? Or was there a monster all along acting in this tragedy? Do I ever speak my mind? Or soul? Or anything that is remotely me? What is me? Is it all about a stage play of emptiness? Who is the playwright? What will the playwright get from inducing so much pain in the story? Where is the drama, the movement, the charm, the symphony? Who's watching this play? Why is the audience dead? Will no one buy tickets to see this dread?

21

The melancholic stir of emotions Deforming this whirlpool, The miserable stench Accompanying noses around, The tastelessness Smoking up the tasteful surroundings, The crazy scent Climbing out mindlessly.... Just to get bottled in this purity.

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Oct 30, 2020

Oct 30, 2020 at 1:55 AM UTC

Bottled

The melancholic stir of emotions Deforming this whirlpool, The miserable stench Accompanying noses around, The tastelessness Smoking up the tasteful surroundings, The crazy scent Climbing out mindlessly.... Just to get bottled in this purity.

9