Påłpëbŕå

Påłpëbŕå 5d

the outcast, since 2001

and then when i sat in the solace of solitude
was i filled with peace and a deep sense of gratitude
for i don't need noise to fill the silence or somebody to help me breathe
because the very essence of my being is enough to lead
me to a life where my smile depends on nobody
and i shall continue to laugh even when abandoned by everybody
i am happy not being a part of their pictures anymore
and content with my cup of coffee and myself to the core
maybe even the unanswered questions and the unasked "whys"-
-"why did she stop talking to me? why did they exclude me? why did he do that to me? -made me finally say goodbye
to an unhealed part of me that longed to be loved
a toxic trait that made me want to be wanted
so all the notions of "bonds" did end up shoved
to a corner in my head which with time feels less haunted
because now i don't really care "why" did all that happen after everything i did
maybe there wasn't any actual answer to- "where did i go wrong"
because when everything was crystal clear i decided to close my lids
and pretend that everything's fine, this is where i belong
but now, i feel free, without an ounce of guilt
i gave it my all and it still didn't work so be it
for i can live the way i like without feeling aghast
dear reader, there's nothing wrong with being an outcast

yours truly

Påłpëbŕå Mar 13

i burn for you

and every dead end
or a blind bend
an unchartered territory
the very thought of missionary
a strong sense of relief
or some sense of self-belief
a happy sunny day
or unspoken vows and ways
a beachy glare tanning our fair,
with a tinge of sand in our hair
the bubbly cocktails making us laugh
the winds catching up with my scarf
a pretty night view with peace around
some music to our ears, a perfect sound
you and me with our hands intertwined
a dream that i see only ever in my mind
never even thinking about the possibility
of "us" ever coming true in tranquility
all of this and more makes me manifest
knowing fully well that your heart beats for her best
yet i can't stop my stupid self from writing about you
telling myself that "this" is the last of the few
of the poetry i rhyme in your reverence oh sol
you'll always sparkle like a diamond, i'll burn for you like coal

old passion burn anew
old poetry with feelings anew

Påłpëbŕå Feb 11

sol VI

when will this longing go away
these unwanted thoughts shall seize to play
in my head, all day long
like a tune on loop, an earworm i can't sing along
for you're not simply out of my league, you're a whole another multiverse
spread to infinite horizons, to my very existence- a curse
that has me bowing to you, making me daydream
of a future of us together, bathing under the sun's beam
maybe one day you'll see me in that light too
maybe i won't simply be a boring, uninteresting view
maybe i too will be able to pique at your brain
maybe there'll be a time when i'll make the blood in your veins
pump at a speed that make your heart pound so hard
those three dancing dots and then radio silence will feel like swallowing shards
oh my, a muse too immune to my writings, a clueless cue
that this should be the last poem i write for you

Påłpëbŕå Jan 22

slaves

good things come to those who wait
be it money, power or a very hot date
say people who've lived patiently
and thus, succumb to death in a way so uncanny
that from their first breath to the last rites
from their lovely days to sleepy nights
nothing stands out, nothing really matters
all their stages of life in scatter
mothering kids to cheating spouses
cooking dinner to sprouting abuses
getting married to getting hospitalized
their birthday to deathday, everything finalized!
then what do we live for? to end up this way
sad and lonely with bursts of joy on some random day
just going through the chores and getting done with it
we wait to live by slowly killing our wit
that maybe one day this curse shall break
and maybe we too will be able to make
a life worth remembering, a life worth filming
watching documentaries, worshipping celebrities
all the while going round in circles, whimpering
losing that spark with each added year till we reach our sixties
being grateful for a life that was wasted in wishing for more
we wait, yes dear reader, we wait all our lives to die, even before-
we learn to live, we learn to fly above bluest of waves
with an albatross around our neck, we survive as slaves

dream? oh, it's a luxury-says the girl who never dared to dream but wait, she's seen people who did dream and could not succed- they didn't work hard enough? no they did...then why? because some things are simply predefined, that's it

Påłpëbŕå Jan 18

HINDI PART I

याद कर वो दिन जब मेरे दीदार के लिए तेरी आंखें तरसती थीं,
मेरी बेपरवाही पर तेरी वही आंखें आंसुओं से बरसती थीं,
न जाने आज फिर वही दस्तूर है,
मिल गई हूं तुझे तो फिर वही आलम है,
उस आग में मैं अकेली ही हूं, जिसमें कभी तेरी मोहब्बत झुलसती थी।