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Ashish Gupta Aug 2013
The heaviest of fall shall not bid him crawl.
The phobes will bawl, the machine will maul,
But the spirit shall hold; through it all.

The daggers of hate, the arrows of fate,
reflected by the soul, sparkle anew facet,
diamonds they are all, for he is the state.

In tears of a warrior trickle words of a sage,
His grand last stand, heralds a new age.
CopyRight (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Nov 2014
Her dream and her fear,
Her smile and her tear,
After the fog of pride does clear,
I realize, are all to me dear.
Ashish Gupta Jan 2014
There is no such thing as life!
Not as it is made out to be anyway- something different.
Life! it's merely a label ascribed to aggregation of little particles.
That is what the sum total of all human drama is,
in the annals of human history, like both, a movement of a whole people
to get rid of ******* fascism, or the struggle of one person
to get rid of bowel movement - seemed like a good idea in the darkness
but with dawning of light, comes back to bite you in the *** -
just aggregates of little particles aggregating in different ways,
evolving to make a better aggregate,
War is a part of this – for a better aggregate, so is Love.

Why not a selfish materialistic weasel be then? Some ask,
After all it would not matter if I were to risk being heroic, would it!
Aye! it would not matter. But then, so also doesn't failure,
complete utter – never finding a lover – failure.
It simply does not matter, so why not?! Why not try?
Why not go up, or down if you will, in a blaze of glory.
You really have no excuse, not to scale your summit,
not to awe every moment of your so-called life.
When your story is finally writ, before your pyre lit,
the only question for the coins will be
Did that stiff ever say **** it and then awesome it?
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
(This one is  an experiment off the beaten track of my poetry style. Sardonic and motivating, with dark humour. It's a lemon sundae with hot dark chocolate syrup. Critique welcome!)
Ashish Gupta May 2014
******* children of a sordid affair
Between corporatism and consumerism
Enslaved by the shackles of misinformation
Sinking each year baser yet
At the speed of light
In the information age
The world is eclipsed
Tangled in a worldwide snare
of fast-food conversation with men in space
and yet deaf to the voice
resonating in the space within
If I screamed and cried in space
Would they hear my voice?
But if I screamed and cried on earth
Would they hear my voice!
© Ashish Gupta 2014
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
A rousing inspiration, or
A peaceful repose?

The bugle at start of battle, or
The lyre at calm evening's close?

The mother of joy, or
The child of pain?

Only seen in sunshine, or
Only felt in rain?

To acquire and possess, or
Ephemeral, a lifetime's pursuit?

Perhaps 'tis sight to the blind.
Perhaps 'tis voice of the mute.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Apr 2014
It's a vast wide empty featureless sky
And no bird in it knows how or why

One zips frantically from tree A to B
Another floats aimlessly looking for a place to be

Some gather in a flock and just sing a happy song
While some solitary search for a perch to belong

Some show their colours at hello, some at goodbye
Some survive with pride, some thrive on the sly

Some stay grounded, for them the sky is a wretched thing
While some yet learn to soar again with a broken wing

Some are born with talons, some destined to be prey
Some see the light in the morning, some at close of day

Some see as the worm, some from up on high
Still, no bird in it really knows how or why.
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
The signs above say:
“Feed not the caged doves.”
Fight the cage,
for their choice of freedom.
For if you have a heart that loves,
song of a caged bird will break it.

It might surprise you,
That your bird will despise you.
Both cage and you will together fall.
As you lie their battered, gasping your last few,
Your eyes shutting upon the sky, bright and blue,
She flies across them in freedom,
singing you gloriously to Elysium.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jun 2013
Stay calm and quiet,
while the voice within bids you riot.
Though of the lies you're thoroughly annoyed,
breathe a word and they'll brand you paranoid.

It is hard indeed to find a reason,
when the soul of world seems void.
But if you stubbornly refuse to bend,
you will win through in the end.

For the spirit must journey through slime,
before it can turn sublime.

Corollary:
Give me an army of lovers,
and I shall conquer bureaucracy!
Nah! Not really...
… but maybe, just maybe...
This one takes comic delight at bureaucracy, the quagmire the world has descended into, where love or triumph is perhaps impossible or indiscernible. Plato and his army of lovers had it easy.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jul 2014
It is very difficult to choose,
That which you can not afford to lose,

Which is the rose you behold, when your eyes are closed
Whose thorns draw blood, when your arms do not hold

It is the dream that you whisper, but never dare told
The last name you will call before your lips turn cold

A visceral ruse and an abstract muse
The only soul which you wish to fuse.

Days turns to months as you delve and dwell
on the opportune moment to hold and tell

Your heart of hearts that its only choice
Is to embrace the music of the inner voice.
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Nov 2014
No matter which way the wind will blow
No matter if its strong or if its slow
If the seed of love in the wind you throw
Then the tree of love from that seed will grow

Even if the world gets covered in snow
And there isn't a sign of life to show
The little frost covered bud will still know
When to break through to the world and glow

No matter how much sorrow, pain and woe
Winter in her abandoned heart may bring in tow
The ebb of life in the veins will not cease to flow
And the tree of love will never let her go
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Aug 2014
Sometime I’ve to snap
Something has to give
The way I have been
Is just no way to live

Out there in the black
Somewhere in my blue
Lies my way back, to
Where my dreams knew

Shackles are gilded, in freedom
But mediocrity serves as key
Here brave are usually lonesome
And genius oft on its knee

I did not ask them directions
Still they put blinders on me
Now my ride is insurrection
And tariff of payback is free
© 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta May 2014
I was not turned down, I was not sent back,
I was propelled forward.
The world saw me slapped in the face,
I saw the world tap me on my shoulder.
What I was told was, I could not walk through that door.
But what I heard was, that I should fly over the wall.

No matter how utterly you fail, how deep you sink,
You will never end deeper than anyone else,
Exactly six feet from where you are right now.
But the mighty Himalayas are always rising into the sky
So everyone who dares to, will always be
The very first to climb higher than anyone before him.

Epilogue:
It’s not the chair you sit on, it’s the dream.
It’s not the door you walk through, it’s the wall.
If you are good, they will put a piece of metal, on your chest.
If you are great, they will put a piece of metal, in your chest.
Now, do you still choose to be denied?!
Copyright © 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Jan 2014
Your life won't matter,
until you shatter
the shackles of prejudices,
that bind your noble soul
in the dungeon of delusions.

Commercial enterprise
is consumed with avarice,
it does not seek to enlighten
you, but merely to frighten
and facts are nought but profiting lies.

Question what you presumed,
for the truth must be exhumed.
Spend your life digging deep
for diamonds you will reap
under lots of time and pressure.

When you finally see the light,
you will be blessed by the sight.
Your life transformed to a song
with courage to right the wrong.
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta May 2014
A dog is a dog is a dog,
And of the dog is for the dog.
But if one is of another kind,
Who to the lion spirit his soul bind,
Then this one lies, as if in a fog,
to the discriminating eyes of a dog.
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Jan 2014
You're settling down to drink in your sunset
I am bubbling up to breathe in the morning light

The best of you frolics in your past
I'm stepping, and up, to a future dance

You're grounded to your reality, to your end
I've leaped off my edge, to give flight a chance

Were the world to stop spinning, I'd walk over
And see the world from you point of view

But I cannot cease my march into the Sun
I cannot halt the dew drops upon my face

You crave a sanctuary, a cave behind a waterfall
I brave the wild currents of that river to the sea

I wish both Sun and Moon in my sky to be
But alas that is not the way

So with heavy heart I must depart, but say
Unto you is you and to me is me.

If I could change the world at all,
I'd change it in a heartbeat,

So total darkness could never fall
That dusk and dawn may meet.
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Feb 2013
Calumny for extortion
Bias confirmation by distortion

Pitchforks and torches in the dark
The unleashed hounds of hell bark

Unbeknownst, the grievant scurried
Foremost the truth is buried

A self-righteous mob clamour,
incensed by allegations gossamer.

'Tis true, the devil dwells within
Pray who? 'em Beguiled by spin?

In introspection lies the key,
but they smash the door, to see

the ominous figure, in a hood,
is but a lover of faith, and good

actions in pursuit of greater good
are the easiest to be misunderstood.

But before the monster in defence spoke,
defiant torches took the house in smoke.

Midst falling cinders dawned comprehension,
blood scrawled: “it lies in self-ascension.”
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
(ein:a/an; frank:honest, stein:rock)
Ashish Gupta May 2014
Another day the quill lies alone
A flickering flame above is all but gone
Scribbles on the back of a sheet
Pondering if all this talk of love
And this yearning for it entirely its own
Or some socially inflicted addiction
A restriction on feelings for loneliness
By this unwelcome relationship,
That between solitude and emptiness
But who should fill this sheet?
For what texture and hue does love imbue?
Can ink and blood meld?
The quill stares wondering upon the sheet
If its love will run fast or infuse slow?
© Ashish Gupta 2014
Ashish Gupta Jun 2013
Son: Dear father, I was born to fly!

Father: Humility, my son. Stay on ground.
The fool seeks to undermine others around.
This fool only unto himself does lie.
The truth alone on the journey can be found.
You are my son! Your soul you shaln't deny.

Son: Hmm..., alright then. But I'll still astound,
and lift the whole world with me up high.
Copyright (c) 2013, Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
(from the files, written in June 2012)
Ashish Gupta Aug 2014
A beautiful fowl took refuge behind a fender
Learnt too late, that nature shall render
A stranger called change, that knows no wall,
In the rising flames before her final fall.

A quotidian fowl braved out in the thunder
To rescue a spark which the winds rent asunder
In the gloom of darkness descending from above
discovered a stranger called flame of love.
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Feb 2013
Yours is not to question, Why not?
Yours is to sit alone at night and cry.
Yours is to accept that,
you will not win;
you will die trying.
Yours is to dream of a world
that could have been
if only one more soul stood along
and then another, and another …
but alas!
Yours is to vision the ceiling melt into a starry night.
Yours is to pick a spot amongst their mighty company.
Yours is to shoot across it in a brilliant streak,
that slows time,
and for an instant,
which seems stretched into eternity,
all those stars cease blinking,
and night turns to day.
And in that brilliant diamond world,
you'll live forever;
a star for stars.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Oct 2014
A spark takes a second
The fire lasts a little more
But a pebble is shaped over ages,
By waves beating upon their shore.

What the tide brings under the Sun,
It takes away under the Moon.
The scent of the roses in Spring
Was lost to the winds too soon.

Of what use now is watering a flower
Which already withered to nightly rains?
Of what good are the pardons you shower
Upon a slave who has died in your chains?

This bridge I was building
Collapsed before the mail van could cross
With this pebble I was gilding
That shall remain to you, an unknown loss.
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
I wish I were her tear drop; to
Caress her face when she, is blue.
Wash the pane of her soul, and view
In her reflection, her beauty imbue.

I fall in her sight; though I try
To hang on her lips, they deny.
Unto the dirt, on my knees; still I vie,
For in love I've fallen; my home, her eye.

I wish they would see me; genuflect
and before she trod over me; reflect.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jun 2013
It is real!
It enters with zeal.
Invisible! but those mirrors feel.
The clock and the calendar it will steal.
It remains concealed, it dare not itself reveal.

It is pain!
When hope's slain.
An empty bottle, a broken chain.
Like a bad penny, it will return again.
The apple of the eye, the worm in the brain.

A lost ship!
Once did regale.
A stooping mast, sagging sails.
The bow is glazed in white frost.
A crooked anchor, an immeasurable cost.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 www.ashishgupta.biz
(Edited version, originally written in Sept. 2012).
Ashish Gupta Aug 2015
But then there is the abyss to keep him company
Gnawing at his heart
The demons in his memory
Tearing his mind apart

sigh...

Still his conquest in solitude
His dance in the dark
Inspire a new sunrise
On a world yet unborn
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
Standing resplendent in a baroque topiary,
Under a florid arbour as an arched canopy,
Her pulchritude in moonlight, is the plenary
Picture of, the muse, the Goddess Calliope.

My heart’s reminiscence of our first encounter,
Like a fragrance in my mind wafts around,
Whose Pareidolia in every-thing sketches her
Face, to which it is entirely spellbound.

Were the Fates to keep us apart,
As the sculptor Pygmalion I would be.
But Aphrodite won’t breathe life into my art,
For not my Galatea, I love my Calliope.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
--
Pareidolia : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pareidolia
Galatea : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galatea_%28mythology%29
Ashish Gupta May 2013
No rainbow without rain.
No perspective without pain,
that from the climb you gain,
when you conquer your mountain.

When darkness has descended,
your energy sapped and all hope has flown,
you fall shattered and forlorn,
look to the light within.

When thunder rages out around,
wisdom in the voice within is found.
So mark that hallowed ground,
so the next intrepid soul shall know:

drink your tears,
its your fountain of wisdom;
embrace your fears,
its your armour for battles to come.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jul 2013
A fire blazes beneath the waves.
That bright light, that once blinded,
gets dimmer as it slowly drowns
in the distant depths of yesterdays.

A squid and a whale motion ignorantly,
escorting the diminishing light down.
A school of barracuda look on obliviously.
Echoes of silence reply from the dark depths.

It begins on the Moon, bright and blue,
the ground has Spring and the light is new.
Until it comes crashing, splashing some brine,
sinking down to the bottomless heart of the ocean?
Copyright (c) 2013, Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
Demons of my past come and throng
My mind; query me of dreams forlorn:
“Isn't dwelling on redemption for the strong?”
But, I am a leaf on a rambunctious river, I reply,
My purpose is forever to be moving on.

Swept by wild winds off my grip on the tree,
Splash! Fallen! pressed on to the edge of me.
Flowing by, flowers and thorns, since I begun,
And though the current often swept me under,
I've always re-surfaced to look upon the Sun.

“But, life off the tree lacks meaning, dead wrong!”
“You may get swept to the wide open sea,
Or you might get struck in a forgotten billabong.”
Yes! Though perilous the Jungle may be
to the lone. I am still alive, and finally, forever me.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jun 2014
A stranger in a strange land,
He fails to see or understand,
How he could ever be one with the fold,
And so reconcile the new with his old.
Wondering if he should fight or flee,
When even victory will find him on his knee.
Will she love him and would her embrace
Have the power to give his inner demons chase?
Would he burn brighter each passing day,
Or in the multitude merely dissolve away?
His principles here are contraband,
He is a stranger in a strange land.
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Aug 2013
A constancy of **** lies
Is their ****** disguise

Adamant their shadows to shun
Are blinded by a perfidious sun

Till these tranced beguiled abide
To His self-righteous "suicide"

Though the charges are absurd
Ne'er a word of inquiry heard

Before seditious truths emerge
They corral to sound His dirge

A puppet procession in a stream
Do they of electric sheep dream?

The invisible chains in silence stay
Until ascension sunders them some day
Copyright (c) 2013, Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
If Salvador Dali dabbled in poetry!
Ashish Gupta Nov 2014
I know that someday I will be found
By someone who believes in me,
And not like, the others, who bound
Themselves, to the jacks of mediocrity.

Someone who can dream blindingly clear
In the reflection of the face of persecution
And keep their selfless vision, through a tear
And stir up in their wake a revolution.

In my search I have nearly lost my mind
And all the while I may still have a choice.
But to be one, with one of their kind,
I will have to somehow lose myself twice.

So, for now I can only brave this test
Before my Answer comes around
That I may at last happily rest
And my long lost heart be found.
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Jun 2013
All existence is meaningless
But some existences are more meaningless than others
Copyright (c) 2013, Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
referencing George Orwell's Animal Farm "all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others" and Agent Smith from Matrix " ... an existence that is without purpose or meaning..."
Ashish Gupta May 2014
If, all men are born equal, were true
No Songs would have ‘ere been written.
The difference between men shines through,
By their conduct when they are smitten.

Some adopt the use of pedestrian tools, like avarice,
Safely transmuting many a love to single edged blades.
Some few fools instead choose to believe their own lies
That a single story writ in blood and tears never fades.
Copyright © 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta May 2014
I miss my beautiful butterfly
I call to her, she won’t reply
What fashion of bait could I vie,
To net me that money can’t buy?
But robbed of freedom love would die
Of what use is a pie in the sky?

So with a song in my heart
And hope in my eye
I wait patiently for the return
Of my beautiful butterfly.
© Ashish Gupta 2014
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
Try and die,
Or,
Heed and succeed.

Where in either
does wisdom lie?

Do smarts give in,
Or,
Blindly vie.

Is it for all,
Or,
only for some.

This non-commodity,
called
Freedom.

It is not sold on Amazon,
Or
bid upon in Ebay.

Unlike a Ferrari,
no one looks twice
upon this ride
called Freedom.

It runs on blood
of patriots,
who saw the light.

Always picking up
hitch-hikers, carrying
someone else's baggage.

Hello! my love,
Won't you cruise
with me,
in my ride called Freedom.
Ashish Gupta Nov 2014
I've a cat in my window;
It's the apple of my eyes.
My naughty Mr. Winnow,
Likes to snarl and gnaw at guise.

I've a cat on my head;
It purrs when I face rejection.
My crazy Mr. Instead,
Is always facing another direction.

I've a cat on my breast,
Listening to the beats of my heart.
My wise Mr. Obsessed,
Wakes me up to play my part.
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Feb 2013
And it is in sight* -
a vision of the world through the eyes of one's soul,
rather than,
a vision of one's soul through the eyes of the world -

for those who -
imagine sunrise when all else see sunset,
are the ones,
who can turn the world up side down -

believe -
never give in and accrue wealth,
but set their mind free;
go out, and change the currency.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
(See not the love in gold; but the gold in love)
Ashish Gupta Feb 2013
Through the rejections and all the hate,
Just before your faith crosses the Pearly Gates,
Though allegedly claimed impossible by the Fates^,
taps you on your weary shoulder - "Hi,
could you help me, no one else is ...” -
the lonely voice of your soul-mate^^.

^Rumour has it those Greek hags have stock options
in the military-industrial complex, the cosmetics industry,
and favour Eris's 21st century avatar called Consumerism.

^^Your soul is not a super-market produce,
For feckless mass appreciation or consumption.
Your soul is a dauntless beautiful sapling, that
'the one' will rescue from its interminable fire,
and nurture it, till it blossoms and glows.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
(Inspired by a lovely young poetess who is sad her
mirror fails to hallucinate beauty in her unlike the mirrors
of her friends, who all share the same distorted dillusions.)
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
I am here to fight, until the end,
For the one thing, I think matters.
And all the while I watch around me,
My whole world of dreams shatters.

No matter how much, to yourself, you lie,
In the end everyone will surely die.
But the one who will be called above,
Is the one who chose to fight for love.

It matters not, how much pain you inflict,
How astute your spin, how sharp your wit.
And even though they may fail to infer,
To see past your smoke and mirror,

The one left standing in the end,
Is the simple one who would not bend.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Aug 2014
They may have drawn a dark line
But we can erase it and shine

They may have unleashed discord
But this rift our hearts can ford

Since we sigh upon the same Moon
We can yet harmonize our tune

The adversary may have been clever
But no division bell rings forever

Our broken dreams can still mend
Since, love conquers hate in the end
(c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Inspired upon reading a poem "Partition" by WH Auden


Unbiased at least he was when he arrived on his mission,
Having never set eyes on this land he was called to partition
Between two peoples fanatically at odds,
With their different diets and incompatible gods.
'Time,' they had briefed him in London, 'is short. It's too late
For mutual reconciliation or rational debate:
The only solution now lies in separation.
The Viceroy thinks, as you will see from his letter,
That the less you are seen in his company the better,
So we've arranged to provide you with other accommodation.
We can give you four judges, two Moslem and two Hindu,
To consult with, but the final decision must rest with you.'

Shut up in a lonely mansion, with police night and day
Patrolling the gardens to keep assassins away,
He got down to work, to the task of settling the fate
Of millions. The maps at his disposal were out of date
And the Census Returns almost certainly incorrect,
But there was no time to check them, no time to inspect
Contested areas. The weather was frightfully hot,
And a bout of dysentery kept him constantly on the trot,
But in seven weeks it was done, the frontiers decided,
A continent for better or worse divided.

The next day he sailed for England, where he quickly forgot
The case, as a good lawyer must. Return he would not,
Afraid, as he told his Club, that he might get shot.

Partition, 1966 by WH Auden.
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
When speaking of prince charming,
The charming part is easy:
A disarming trap is simple to spring,
Shower 'em with summer's breath,
Until beguiled footsteps end in winter's death.
Entombed dreams are crowned with a ring.
In eternity, nymphs her sordid epitaph sing.

When speaking of prince charming,
The prince part is hard:
Helm the war for peace to the storm's eye,
Where Gods confess, that the angel's kiss,
The ambrosia which, the thirst for truth, slakes,
Is in the courage to stare into the abyss …
… for as long, as it takes.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta May 2014
It will take more than
what is similar between
she and me
to get
her to here.

More than a letter
Perhaps my word
The one,
echoing in her soul.
(c) Ashish Gupta 2014
Ashish Gupta Nov 2014
I smile to the sound of her voice,
yet grimace to the waves of her choice,
that may wash away this swain.

I miss the sight of her smile,
but hold a fear all the while,
as I try to build my sand castle again.
(c) Ashish Gupta 2014
Ashish Gupta Jun 2013
A whittled rose in the mist of June
An old spruce guitar out of tune
A broken lichened picket gate
A dusty mail box - too late
Copyright (c) 2013, Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
Ashish Gupta Apr 2014
He wonders what manner of grim,
Staves her from writing back to him,
Whilst he waits and muses forlorn:
Why in lieu of roses have cacti grown?

When or where or what nature of blunder,
Has conspired to rift peas of a pod asunder.
With flagging quill on soaked parchment
He slowly bleeds as his young heart is rent.

Perhaps his slumping state my stir the angels,
To rush and gently whisper in her dainty ears,
That like the depths of ocean its surface tumult quell,
Their embrace will dispel their little-big fears.
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Feb 2013
Art I worthy of such privilege
To love thine true beauty?
For I'm but a humble stalk, my  
silent flower
aloft resplendent in a Sun beam
conferring meaning to life.

Alas! perfidious winds grieve
as a triste petal trickles
to the ground rent asunder
in the capricious hands of fate
I metamorphose to a sceptre  
you a jewel in its crown.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jan 2013
This silence instils me with dread.
Perchance 'tis me, bereft of knowing ear.
Golden reciprocity; nought be said.
Would dialogue ensue, if thou art near?

'Tis insipid; moonless every night,
and empty; cloudless every day.
Black and blue; colours of plight!
Oh, hast thou nothing to say?

A silent whisper once graced my ears.
Sunrise over spans 'twas once frozen.
By who? The receding shadow disappears.
Why was it, that I was chosen?

In a surreal wasteland I awake;
every blinking star appears a ticking clock.
All space and time I'd forsake,
for the key to destiny that thine lips lock.

Knocking on heaven's door, questioning,
'twas her – my angel – that you sent?
Imploring the Fates; will she educe a king?
They reply: “the future is always silent”.
Copyright (c) 2013 Ashish Gupta
CC BY-NC-ND 3.0, www.ashishgupta.biz
Ashish Gupta Jan 2014
Under grey clouds in her garden
Her briny pond still larger grew.
To cacophony turned her wren
And her white rabbit into shrew.

The passing seasons, she did not heed
For wintry dusk was all she knew.
But then in that throng of ****
A little rose bud sprang into view

Its petals white, then pink, then red
But she had eyes for only its thorn
Not water, but lopper she turned instead
And nipped the blossom ere it was born

Which fell, on weeds that ne'er seek pardon
As chopping blocks to winter buds they mew
Under grey clouds in her garden
Her briny pond still larger grew
Copyright (c) CC BY-NC-SA 2014 Ashish Gupta
Ashish Gupta Jan 2018
Stuck between war and peace
Can’t win the fight
Won’t bend the knees

Stuck between cradle and grave
Can’t be a prince
Won’t be a knave

Stuck between the earth and sky
Can’t plant some roots
Won’t let it fly

Stuck between night and day
Can’t silence it
Won’t let it say

Stuck between the head and toe
Can’t keep it in
Won’t let it show

Stuck between a truth and lie
Can’t breathe in life
Won’t let it die

Stuck between joy and woe
Can’t burn it down
Won’t let it grow

Stuck between a yes and no
Can’t make it up
Won’t let it go
Ashish Gupta Jan 2014
The dainty feathers all knew their perch,
As the leaves changed their hue, and again.
Until a fire, born of green lust, did besmirch,
The order of the forest held in timeless reign.

The delicate birds were all forced to flight,
Only some sought within, midst fiery storm,
For an uncharted course in misty sight,
Most of a feather banded together to a swarm.

But where does that feathery flock aim to go?
In the clasp of perfidious smoke quick to smother
Does every or any in that confident band know?
That absolutely everyone in a swarm follows another!
Copyright (c) 2014 Ashish Gupta
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