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Saksham Garg Oct 2014
The stars come out slowly at night and tell me about a girl,
With eyes like the azure skies and hair like the grapevine twirl;
The flowing breeze avers the story of a woman with skin milky pure,
She smiles a saccharine smile it says, with an aura of tease and allure;
The clouds spill a secret on me; they rain their coolest waters,
You must find her they insist; she is one of God’s most beautiful daughters;

The chirping of the birds in the trees attracts me as if a message they are trying to send:
She lives in an Elysian palace beyond the horizon; is it there that my search will end;
In the cadence of the tides, I can vaguely hear a persistent, earnest request,
You must seek the flower of the flowers; you must seek the treasure chest;

She walks like falling leaves on a spring afternoon, when there's no summer zephyr,
Every step forward is an august swirl, her every grace is a tempting desire,
The bees dance to an inaudible tune, her they forever try to define,
The queen bee gives up thinking she must be an exquisite calligraphy, so very divine;
The Gulmohar tree grins, jealous of her flawless figure, unable to castigate her, he speaks:
She shines ivory white in a darkened cavern, as if formed by joining stalactite and stalagmite peaks’;
Stepping out of the shower of falling stars, dripping wet in a blinding light, her silhouette the night tries to disclose,
She looks like a freshly picked rose bud each time, lined with droplets of dew, her callow figure, half open half closed;

The Pyramids of Egypt narrate to me the day when God was in the mood to paint,
Cleopatra died of envy that day they say, and Aphrodite lost all her pride and became a saint;
It was the day when she was created, when God became an artisan without a cause,
Creating her, he lost his ardor; working on the astral canvass he removed all her flaws;
He gave her the candor of a little child when handed for the first time in the arms of its mother,
He gave her the eloquence of speech a nightingale has and the sensation like a tranquil pigeon feather;
She got the canter of the reindeers; she got the touch like spreading wildfire,
She got the brightest aureole; she got the love hidden in God’s deepest mire;

The rivers made me swear, this arcane knowledge to myself I must keep,
The mountains made me avow, that till I find her there is no food, no water, and no sleep;
The nature cajoled me into looking for this apocryphal woman and to this day I search,
I have capitulated my heart to her and she teases at me from her heavenly perch;
Looking askance at me, she calls, find me o' lover she says,
I know she’s worth it, that’s why I still roam in winding ways….
I know she’s worth it, that’s why I still roam in winding ways….
Saksham Garg Jul 2014
I've fallen in love with the pearl of my tear,
washes my eyes and makes me see clear;
meanders down my cheeks when it leaks from my eye,
slithers down in streaks when i look up to the sky;
it rims my eyes like a silver spectacle,
brims them slowly untill a shiny pearl trickles;
reminding me of mother nature's divine power,
its fall taps me on the shoulders and asks me to return, sayin 'stop chasin a star'
i like its pure sensation, its like my mother's own palm,
the touch of her finger over my face making me glide into a sleep so mighty calm....
Saksham Garg Apr 2016
Tick a hundred places,
You wanna be..
Mark one too many people,
To prove wrong..
Note down each rule,
You wanna break free..
Have so many dreams,
You wanna see, come alive..
..that even depression can't inspire suicide..
..and instead, find pleasure in offending life.
pushed too far
can't back down
awake at your own dawn
avenge your slow death
enjoy the irony
Saksham Garg Apr 2015
When you're all heart..

You'll always be cracked but never shattered,
Never broken for the heart is brittle but yet it is strong.

You'll always be fun but never ecstatic,
Never happy for the heart is fickle, for the heart is petulant.

You'll always want but never get,
Not what you asked for, 'cause the heart is generous, for the heart is a giver.

They'll wanna listen to you but you'll never be heard,
Never taken seriously for they listen with their minds, they're deaf to the cadence of the heart.

You'll never be alone but always lonely,
You'll fight a solitary battle even in crowds cause the heart is secretive, it's a dungeon with vaults.

When you're all heart, you'll be in pain always and always healing,
When you're all heart, you'll never be understood and always taken for granted,
When you're all heart, you'll love all,  always.

When you're all heart, find me. We'll go off together to find love.
Cause when you're all heart.. You Will find your love. One day.
Because, that's the only reason why the heart.. Beats.
Venting out some misgivings of being emotional.
Saksham Garg May 2014
With closed eyes..
Breathing deeper, he said "..."
But no words were spoken,
But,
With closed eyes,
Getting closer, she heard "..."
Thoughts, hurt and broken,

The wind came,
But was seen, by him,
Face buried in his chest,
With closed eyes,

Her hair too were blown,
Over her face,
But unfettered, she kissed him,
With closed eyes,

Staring down, from the top,
With closed eyes,
He sighed,
Knowing what was to come,

She called his name once,
With closed eyes,
But never cried,
But felt him shed a tear,

Together they let go,
Cause they knew
With closed eyes,
That the world wouldn't,

And even though, miles apart,
Falling through the air,
They could see,
With closed eyes,
Each other..

Hoping,
That finally,
They would be together,
For forever,
They had closed their eyes.
Saksham Garg Jul 2011
inside of me there is a cry no1 hears,
inside of me there is a guy that i must fear;
deep deep inside there is shout for help, every now and then it pips,
deep deep inside it hurts but dies down till it reaches my lips;

its a barren land inside of me, all dry and creep,A
where the trees have no leaves and the animals all weep;
the sun never rises, the moon is nowhere to be seen,
the rugged land and roads give it a mighty blinding sheen;
its the only source of light i've ever had,
the hope i derive from it, is all hollow and sad;
my soul wanders to its depths to seek company but in dismay,
every road i walked, every sea i swam but its all dark and gray;
where is it that the sun has gone, is the moon on a holiday..
its a barren land inside of me and all i have to say.....

inside of me there is a cry no1 hears,
inside of me there is a guy that i must fear;
deep deep inside there is shout for help, ever now and then it pips,
deep deep inside it hurts but dies down till it reaches my lips;

my spirit wanders in search, but its got no spirit left,
i'm tryin to resurface and i must count on every breath;
the vultures of fear await my death and sit in their perch n wait,
the bird of prey is hungry and it looks like m already too late;
is it time for me to let go, is it the time for me to fall,
i feel like crumbling but till my end i will slowly crawl;
the past is clouding and the future is lost in a mist,
my last goodbye to all must be a beautiful gift;
i don want people cryin, i doubt they even will,
the vulture i will call upon to save my burial bill;
nither do i belive in god, nor i ever did,
but the life wasn't worth livin, it was a sea so turbid;
so i dont pray to god to set my soul free,
oh lord let it wander, let my memory live, let all remember me;
there was a lot to be done, a lot to be conveyed,
i tried all my life, the voice got buried in a silence so widespread;
there were some thoughts in me, some heard and some said,
all i did was to shriek n wallow till i dropped dead....

inside of me there is a cry no1 hears,
inside of me there is a guy that i must fear;
deep deep inside there is shout for help, ever now and then it pips,
deep deep inside it hurts but dies down till it reaches my lips;

i was boy in a man's world, i was weak among strong foes,
i was dreamer in the land of reality and here the truth goes......

i was wrapped up
i was strapped up
i was blocked out i was closed,
i was mistaken
i was broken
i was shakin, out to the island i was rowed,
i was taken
i was tried
with a million charges i was blamed,
i was tortured
i was questioned
i was mimed and i was lamed,

here i lie now, my lord before you, a million queries now u'l ask,
here i see now in your eyes, you're to tired now, its the final task;
so i wont say what you dont ask, i will give you what you want,
before i close my eyes the last time, i will tell what you'll grant;
i am guilty, the charges accepted, **** this *******, set him free,
dont you hang me, dont you bury me, dont you lay your hands on me,
the vulture's waiting, my energy oozes, i accept it arms widespread,
you cannot **** me, m immortal, you cant **** who's already dead...
the vulture's waiting, my energy oozes, i accept it arms widespread,
you cannot **** me, m immortal, you cant **** who's already dead...
Saksham Garg Jul 2011
The emotion called emotion set out to look at the world one day,
He thought he’d take the day off to make some merry and gay,
Strolling by he entered a village farm and the animals all jumped,
They’d never seen an emotion like him; they couldn’t understand what they felt,
Emotion ran away from there, leaving the animals feeling nothing but bummed,
The emotion called emotion went to unwind at the bar nearby,
He guessed at least his fast friend alcohol would love to have him drop by,
As soon as the pub’s door opened and he set foot inside,
All heads turned, and colour drained from their hides,
Alcohol shouted to his pal ‘run from here o emotion; the people in here I beguile’,
‘I keep them away from all emotion; all I told you about happiness around me was a lie’,
The emotion was confused, it was something he’d never felt before,
He was a straight thinker, he’d always been so sure,
As he was strutting down the road, all lost in thought and head in cloud,
The emotion stumbled upon a great saint; busy in meditation, wrapped in a saffron shroud,
He considered talking advice and expressed desire to enter the saint’s psyche,
Then quietly he was shown to the saint’s wisdom, through a secret passage deep deep inside,
There he sought answers to his quest; he asked the wise one in all earnest:
‘Why do people fear me? I never let them to sorrow or pain...’
‘I am a simple emotion; I never put them under any strain....’
The wisdom replied: ‘why do I meet you in here old friend? Why this secrecy you must wonder...’
‘Herein lies the answer to all your queries, I keep away from you so I can think and ponder.’
“I am free of you so am known as the wise one, if I let you in it’ll spoil all the fun.
Although I know you’re right, you are the simplest and so you beget happiness on a platter.
But to comprehend you, one must be free of you and that’s how you complicate matters,
If one were to always listen to you I would be lost, I would become secondary and I can’t bear that cost.
That is why we don’t meet old’ friend, it is for my significance that you must disappear,
But in search of happiness people get confused between you and me and then it is you they have to fear...”
The emotion called emotion was not satisfied with this response,
Seeing this, the wisdom went back to his own trance.
“You seem troubled my dear, but there is no need to be;
Go back home, get to work and let me get to mine,
Be the guy you were, frolicking, wandering and always carefree,
It’s almost dawn now, go rise and shine.”
The emotion called emotion quietly took the saint’s advice,
He went off home to being who he always was in a trice.
Things went back to normal, no work was stalled,
The only lesson he learned was:
That “an emotion never thinks at all”
That “An emotion never thinks at all......”
Saksham Garg Aug 2014
Flair up those engines,
It's a long night..
Might as well make the most of the stars and moonlight,

Let's talk some more, come twilight,
Why not walk some more..
Not worry about that 6am flight,

Covered her up, sheltering her from cold, thunderstorms and morning showers,
And not shiver himself with her in his arms..
Lest the Little girl wake up, strong he must stay for a few more hours,

Atop his building, he sat with just wine,
Alone he was up on that roof, but not lonely that night...
Bemused to see the starts above and night lights below shine alike,

Simple staring at his uncovered form,
Shining in moonlit sheets they stayed...
Him asleep and her blushing all night,

Awake they stayed, for a mountain they had to climb,
Not for a moment repenting the dreams..
That kept them awake before morning the clock chimed,

The subway shook, as the train passed above,
He wrapped her tighter..
Wishing to God, it didn't wake her up,

He raised his last glass, to the couple in the street,
They barely noticed, his toast to their love ..
They turned a corner, in mid air he clicked his feet,

He awoke to find her smiling down on him,
Stretched an arm, for her to kiss..
Just to see, her, in the twilight breaking in,

The snow then shone, brighter than white,
As the sun came, with not a cloud in sight..
The tents were wrapped to be put up again, but at a greater height,

They'd all gotten up to another precious new dawn,
For waits bring more pleasure to the rewards they bring..
Another chance to show, what was yet not shown,


The subway was still dark though, another hour it was loaned,
The luckiest was the Little girl, and her papa was at peace..
For he'd gotten his wish, as she smiled and snug up,
A sleep unbroken, a bond unknown.
Saksham Garg Oct 2014
Yesterday, it seemed,
Freedom is the prize,
Today, I found,
Desire is the price.

A far off land,
Does beckon to us all,
To run into dreams,
Is to simply wake up with a fall.

Beauty I see all around,
Or just the little good is filtered,
Mingled with hope, served
When actually none is to be found.

Courage is gained,
Strength is lost,
Resolves are abound,
Will to carry on is not.

Braving my own,
Saving my own,
Heart from the mind,
A kid from the world.

What I have learnt,
Is what have I learnt??
Not knowing is a kind of knowing!!
Lost or searching, the map is burnt.  

Dip them in a palette, of nature's hues,
And slowly run em' down my face,
Four fingers, four colors, four Seasons,
A tribesman, a warrior, withered, a lost race.
Saksham Garg May 2014
Sometimes,
The waves are so silent, only white tips are seen,
The moon is a lighthouse, and amidst the fog,
The man is alone except, yes!! Ah, there's a dog;

But..
Time, time is removed from the equation,
And space, the sense of space is just.... Just Lost!!

To even gulp down, that inexplicable omnipresence, to even breathe,
Feels like a sin, like betrayal,

And in that picturesque, she rises.. Like a piece puckered from heavens,
In your mind, her face,
Expressionless, her eyes,
Infinite,            

and there....

Like dew on a fresh leaf, leaks a drop, rolling into a mudball,
Just as they give away, and them knees hit the sand..

A memoria, a reminiscence, of her touch..
As if pixie dust brought a message, travelling through a whole universe,
Which he.. I..  I almost got, or.. almost missed!!

Choking.. Smiling at not knowing..
Reality from love, imagination from hurt.
The defiance in me, the innocence in her!!
Saksham Garg Jun 2014
What is hope, but survival instinct clothed in the charade of optimism?
What is love, but fear overpowered by a communion of the afraid?

While the real 'wait' for the next sunshine to be something new, something different..
Torments only those who are helpless in the true sense,
Whom we pass by but fail to succor everyday..
While true love awaits, in the eyes of children waiting,
only to be looked at, picked up, embraced and put to sleep at night...

Truth falls short of the reverence it is held in at times,
And religion comes to a rescue of sorts,
Only prolonging what is inevitable ,
A swindling yet desperate fight,
A lie concocted to keep the mind enslaved.. Called Life!!
More of musings than poetry
Saksham Garg May 2014
Loveless is thy life, for they all pray to make you stay,
Lonely you must be, for just their worship you grant them their way,

If it were me I'd rather they bleed and starve,
Cause I'd love em just enough to see them learn through hardship,
It's like you never knew their pain,  misery or remorse,
It's so cats in the cradle, they grew up while you were away.

Thou Kingdom has its people, but oh what a price you have to pay,
You feed em, cloth em and give them shelter,
But from their withering souls, you must look away,

If it were her, she'd adore em all the same,
But never spoil her own children, for only their wounds she'd caress,
But she'd teach em to walk by themselves,
Only holding their hand so they won't sway.

But you, you are proud and you are vain,
They are but your Symphony, what a morose tune there you play..

If it were they themselves, Truly!!  Masters of their own lives,
Even they'd understand their loneliness, can be traded for ego and pride,
Even they would know that our lives are useless anyway,
Compassion they'd learn to help each other along the way!!

Heartless is thy nature, and so it must stay,
For we are mortal and not you, and therein lies the crux,
Six feet under we'll be buried someday,
And you bear the pain of seeing us go away..
How strong at all times you must stay..

Loveless is thy life, for they all pray to make you stay,
Lonely you must be, for just their worship you grant them their way,

(fading..)
Loveless is thy life, for they all pray to make you stay,
Lonely you must be, for just their worship you grant them their way!!
Saksham Garg May 2014
No place for forgiveness in a world that knows justice,
The Saints be lost in a sea of numbers,
In sands that leak from a broken hourglass.

If only,
They knew, to know the why,
Backs turned and heads bowed,
Each firefly caught,
A masked revenge,
An inward storm avowed,

Lessons in time,
Given no thought,
Moving onwards ,
A cadence fought,

The only pain remained in hurt and hunger,
Smiles be woven, wrapped in leaves,
None won the war, brothers just the same
Lost in fiction be those who lost,

To decency, pledged
When all our hearts,
Stirred a ***,
And rose a better lot,

The Saints be found, in homes abounds,
The world was fair, in a century too far,
Eons went by, for the cosmic dream to come around,

No place for forgiveness in a world that knows justice,
The Saints be lost in a sea of numbers,
Split of a second it took to spun,
Why the when? The heart wonders.
Only in leaking sands of a broken hourglass...
Saksham Garg Nov 2014
Tis' easier to run,
To little worlds,
To have a little fun,
And move on...

Than to live life as they say,
With an open mind and a loving heart,
To face each day as it comes,
To sleep peacefully at night like a baby,
It's better to see and smell a rose,
Than to pluck it,
Like walking on grass for a short while,
And jump back to the paved winding paths,
To keep moving on...

Tis' easier to run,
Into the arms of many women,
Not to brothels but to bars,
Drink and kiss,
Only to move on...

Than to understand everything,
With a wise mind, open to all thoughts,
Tis' easier to be a hedonist,
A creature of pure desire and passion,
Like better to be loved by a few,
Than admired by all,
The mind plays tricks,
The heart simply wants,
Mind draws conclusions from illusions,
The heart aches for mirages and rainbows, far far apart,
A tiresome journey is this search,
But from one to the other,
It goes on...

Tis' easier to run,
To little worlds,
To have a little fun,
And move on...

From innocent treacherous souls,
Needy not knowing the chains,
With which lives are bound,
To go on and yet stay,
Circling an unsteady lot,
Like sheep with dogs around,
Tis' easier to stay,
The way, the way the world isn't,
Ignorance begetting Conformity,
Knowledge creating a moral high ground,
Tis' easier to break hearts,
Hearts of others and own,
Than to feel pain alone,
Look back, wave and move on...

Tis' easier to run,
To a detour, from the race,
To stroll amongst animals,
For the sake of moving on...

Than to last the while,
Gasping for breath,
Gushing in between swims,
To fly in dreams,
Tis' better to listen to far off sounds,
Of unknown beings, of creatures yet to be found,
And follow the craziness in circles,
And lose sight of a goal,
Than to play for winnings,
Than to fight ego battles,
Belittle the words spoken,
Simply pass by than forgive hurts,
Let life move on...

Tis' easier to run,
To little worlds,
To have a little fun,
And move on...
Saksham Garg Nov 2015
Solitary nights,
Inebriated writings.
Words, Poorly strung together,
oft forced to rhyme.
*Alcohol, is it a sin?
Truth, is it divine?
Saksham Garg Jun 2014
Each day is it passes,
life becomes a little bit stranger,
little bit more discernible,
But everyday life also gets you closer to a truth,
which it may sound to be little cynical, is called death.
Again one might object to the above thought as being too negative,
and yes possibly a one off feeling,
but I think again.

Everyday I feel farther away,
from people in general;
people whom I cared about or who cared about me,
but I can genuinely feel getting closer to some one or something inexplicable.

It's almost as if each day I lose an ol' friends called life,
cause each day in getting closer and closer to my true love named death.

It is almost as if I'm having to deal with a mid life crises in my quarter life only.
I've come to question every thing I ever believed in
Causing the ones around me to possibly question my very reason of thought or the clarity of my decisions,
Some have gone ahead and even labeled me as weak and messed up.

I only feel myself to be crazy,
Crazy enough to wonder
whether all the quarrying for happiness is possibly being done in the wrong fields of sand,
that is,
happiness does not spring from your actions trying live better while you're here, but it rather is cradled by working each day towards a better end,
so to speak.

Still while this feels like it just might be right at the moment,
tomorrow might bring a stranger, or different flow of mind waves with it,
to dip my feet in its cold yet steady flow.

Sorry for feeling this today.
Lonely Musings
Saksham Garg Jul 2014
Why is it, that only at night?
Neurons fire at the speed of light,
Is it okay to be alone with so many thoughts,
Or is it insane to be thinking about thinking about thinking about thinking about... thoughts.

Why should it rhyme, why should it make sense,
To puke out chaotic cognition, should one really need pretence?
Afar they go, shivers and shudders they bring back,
Comprehend it, recollect it, don't lose track,

And yet, for a moment here, time and space have warped,
The roles are exchanged, the laws have snapped,
When the mind has leaped whereas the heart has harped,
But the body remains, in a web of questions it’s trapped,

So, why is it, that only at night?
Neurons fire at the speed of light,

A humming is heard, an esoteric rant,
The riverine sound of verses being chanted,
It pours in like there is no end,
Capacity for infinite, but grasp is limited,

Holding on to horror and knowledge at the same time,
Pulled from both sides, it’s like being ripped apart,
Letting go is hard as weakness yields to curiosity,
To fall and rise is what’s left inside, drunken oscillations of the divine,

So, why is it, that only at night?
Neurons fire at the speed of light,

To make it stop, to once more see through the eyes,
Stop struggling, and melt all desires,
Feeling is gone; the tips of fingers are cold,
Welcome back, to the “living world”!!

And ask again, just one more time,
That, why is it, that only at night?
Neurons fire at the speed of light,
Saksham Garg Nov 2014
The first sign would be, the way she'd glance,
No no, cancel that! It would most certainly be her smile;

Or... Maybe her hair, flowing in waves like no other,
But would it be that dreamy he wonders, all the while!!

Once he might've been there, but missed it quite by chance,
Young and foolish he thought he was,
Mistook, mistaking crushes for romance,
Had he not chosen to act older, probably would have been younger in love;

Perhaps, this time there'll be some indicators, some pole star guiding him to her, he Hopes,
For all he knows is friendship, care and loyalty for those,
Few people whose faces bring light,
but she, he imagines would stand out,
gleaming more bright, wrapped as if in white

Older and wiser, he thinks he is,
None too shabby in love he'll fare.

It might be the twinkle in her eye, or the way she plays her moves a lil' coy,
In his gut he knows this time around he'll get it right,
But how much could a simpleton know,
Of the matters of the heart,
He who has a history of ignorance,
But better and brighter he seems,
For her, more prepared to bend down on his knee,

He just knows that when they meet,
A shooting star would be seen,
Blazing and dazzling through the sky,
Wandering and meandering as if drunk with with her pulchritude,
But isn't it too far fetched a dream to live by,

It feels like he's sure not to miss it,
In a way, desperate to kiss her,
But falling in love, is an idiot he's feared,
He'd rather tread softly, none too eager,
trying not too hard,
seeming too casual to appear,

Dreamer or dreamier does he sound,
for the affections, Of a lovely lass, in fields afar.

What he doesn't think of, is just to be himself,
Not strut or stutter, but feel free,
Not look for grins, eyes hair or her stance,
There would be no signs but just an inward smile, a silent glee.

For too blind the eyes make, every man with light,
Love, love oh love, is over-rated perhaps,
Ephemeral are the fables, maybe is its just chance,

So hope should he? To meet his destiny?
Shall he take her hand, kiss her forehead, caress her cheek?
OH, my love, sit with me, and let's wait and see....
Saksham Garg Apr 2015
You just cannot deny,
A fallen pain in the eyes of hunger,
One that hurts you to look at,

But feel the truth in you,
The uplifting peace in feeding a child of the streets,
You're what not to him, just feel that.

I've thought for long,
That there wasn't a greater sorrow,
Than to see a dream murdered not once but twice,

But now I've somehow come to realize,
There ain't simpler happiness, than to feel,
Having someone to share those tears in my eyes.

Forsaken were those, I feel,
With no guardian or angel,
To watch over their tiny feet;

But bravery it is, and rewardedly so,
To depend & survive,
On the benevolence of the world,
That so kindly obliges.

To not be loved back, or simply unloved,
Isn't fair, ethereal or humane,
Undoubtedly so..

But to finally be able to heal,
And live on,
Is a miracle in itself.
Saksham Garg Jul 2011
A times I feel like I am lost, in a world that feels so not my own;
its a wondrous place in my dreams where every bud is mine, and every seed I've sown;
Here love is not lost, the people are beautiful,
A word of care is free of cost;
The sun comes out, bright n shiny and lets the children play;
The moon surfaces at night and lets the folk dance in joy and gay;
As I wake up and come back to reality in a blink:
I lay in bed for a while and then sit up and think;
and this world appears so alien, so aberrant, so gloomy, so aloof;
A new chain of thoughts begins, it blurs my land of dreams and makes it seem like a spoof;
If i were happy my foes will not be;
This is how despair spreads and reality begins its spree;
The world cannot be round if the sun were to everywhere shine;
Is this how into reality we are all entwined?
Maybe my dreams were all wrong, all fake; and true happyness is a fraud;
It cant be so easy to make everyone merry, it cant be so wonderful everywhere and maybe its not so easy to act and play God......
Saksham Garg Apr 2015
Jokes on life played one too many,
Some big some small,
For I tried laughing with Him,
Ended up being sorry for the joke is all.
The long and short of it.. Till now.
She
Saksham Garg Jan 2015
She
She saw..
The greed for peace, unsated forever,
The need for love, unabated however,
Emptying vast emptiness,
She saw in me..

I write, you paint, they sing,
She..
She cried,
Sat there, with me in her eyes,
She cries..

She told..
Tol' me of the hollow hollows,
She had to tell..
A piece of my heart,
She had to take..
To make it right,
she took the left..
Kissed my fingertips,
she cried and left;
Left a hole in me, where her tears fell..

She left.. and..
The Greed for Peace, abated forever,
The Need for Love, unsated.. still... however..
Turned me to poetry
Saksham Garg Sep 2014
A bluebird flew..
More bluebirds followed..  
And another.

Swings, slides and merry go rounds creaked,
Empty playgrounds called their little friends to come play,
As none came but the chilling wind,
Blowing leaves in mornings bleak.  

So the bluebirds flew,
Bluebirds flew South,
And another..

She was kind to kids,
He was overwhelmed by their chatter,
She'd swing em around in her arms,
He'd give em rides on his back all day.
They weren't there either,
Cause they came for the children,
Who were away on vacation,

Above the bluebirds flew,
Invisible against the sky,
And another...

Snowflakes fell, scant and slow,
Trees became whiter and sun shone brighter,
Parks were deserted, no school buses were seen,
Nor an ice-cream truck in sight, only a white hazy sheen,
For December had arrived and in its wake the people had fled,
To beaches in tropics and islands alike..

Where the bluebirds flew,
The bluebirds flew there to,
And another..

It wasn't chance, it was merely unfair,
Which is why it was this way,
They didn't go to church, But merely walked in arms,
Never praying but forever wishing, for a little luck to come their way,

Bluebirds afar flew,
Bluebirds flew to lands far away,
And another...

Soon the earth spun, and seasons changed,
The parks they filled, the buses they plied,
Running all over the city, for ice-cream they once again cried,
All came back that evening in the park,  all but one,
Their favorite one..

Bluebirds chirped,
Back North the bluebirds returned,
And another..

Wondering what had happened,
They rushed to find out,
Tried his place, it was locked,
Couldn't find him at school nor in parks,
The Cityhall and even the church they tried
A tiny red haired girl, nowhere they could find,
And then they got the news,
Her parents had been lost at sea,
Leaving the little one all alone behind,

The Bluebirds flew in circles,
Them Bluebirds couldn't fly,
But another..

How'd the earth spun, they never did realize,
Oceans in their aftermath had left something behind,
A wish for them, closure of a kind,
But a bus came, for a foster home that night,
He only got the news the next morning,
All day next and the night thereafter she cried,

The Bluebirds swayed in the winds,
Braced the gust the bluebirds did,
Another tried...

For it showed them a way, twisted although it was,
They'd get their wish, something they never had,
A child of their own and guardians for the poor child,
Solace for all, but yet the world argued,
Morality, fate and blasphemy they called it,
The Other Bluebird simply called it divine.

And so the Bluebirds fly,
Bluebirds seen flying by,
Yes, another..
Saksham Garg Jul 2014
When the hours get slow, and the voices go low,
The time of the night when the humdrum tends to go;
I lie awake in bed, and thoughts begin to cloud my mind,
The future goes at a scary pace; the past gets stuck in a rewind;
It is in these times I find no one but myself to converse with,
So I ponder over a million things, and it starts to get a little turbid;
Now I find dimmed lights and the radio plays old tracks,
Looking in the corridors and staring across the room, I see lost souls and turned backs;
It is now I feel the poet in me rise and come out of its scabbard,
Or if stated more humbly I turn into a mighty poor and morose bard;
I write to express myself, justify my own actions and thoughts,
Let the drunken ghoul come out of its attic at the back of my mind, where it stinks and rots;
It is the ghoul which had been a silent spectator to all my lies and all my pains,
He knows where I faltered and where I got selfish to amplify my gains;
He laughs and curses, and realizes me where I sinned,
Burns a hole through my soul, to the bottom of my heart I am pinned;
Its voice leaks out from the crevices my mind has forever tried to mend,
The truth always oozes out through the voices of family, friends and fiends;
So I write to be free, I write to become pure,
I write till I drop or till the heart goes sour;
The mind says I am vindicated, I am selfless and one thing is for sure,
I am the victim, not the criminal, a million pains I had to endure;
I should let go of these memories and forget my ordeal,
The past is misty, the future’s foggy, and the present I must feel;
I must make amends to the corners in the past I broke,
Smoothening the edges, to this dust I must never choke;
For I better future I should work, the lessons from the past I must learn,
Never must I trip again where I have passed, never must I crash and burn;
Tread carefully all the while; never should I ever stagger,
Falling is not an option now, half my life I have traversed now, rest half is on my platter;
Lying silent, staring at ceilings, crying in vain, I should end,
Having seen the changing shadows on the wall, I now know every changing trend;
Time goes by slowly in the night; it’s like a tunnel with no water and no bends,
I have many a queries to ask, but I don’t know to whom these mysteries I should send;
The night gets mystical, the starts and the moon make a mighty blend,
Maybe that’s the why the galaxy is called the Milky Way, maybe everything is Godsend;
Hey!!! But I don’t believe in God, that’s what I’ve always said,
But that’s when I use the word God, and then I start to dread;
I must believe in him, a mighty, imaginary, divine power,
My friend tells me it is all scientific, he is the energy in every particle and in every star;
But I know God is like ghosts, a figment of imagination, a scare to the kids and hope to all,
A good guy at heart, but in a tough spot where everyone he must enthrall;
And here I find all my answers, so here is my withdrawal,
I write to satisfy my whims and fancies, so satisfied here I must stall;
I am the one who had gained knowledge from this untidy scrawl,
I declare myself the winner and end this friendly brawl;
The ink bottle I now close, and roll up the scroll,
And now I sit up in bed and ponder, a poem came out of this all;
******* it!!! I can’t believe it, a stupid poem came out of this all!!!!!!
Saksham Garg May 2014
The Child in Me

There is a child that lives behind my house, a beautiful pure soul,
He crawls around here and there, hides and peeps every now and then through his keyhole;
His sounds swarm from his window to mine, making me restless to call him inside,
his laughs and chirps call me and by evening he is in my home,
I see his curious eyes look around the surroundings not so unknown,
He likes the biscuits I offer him, but he gets bored nibbling it pretty soon;
He'd rather have the spicy namkeen, and water from my own glass and spoon,
He falls but never cries, I play around and obstruct him, but it never makes him quit trying,
He's playful when he wants, silent when he asks for love, from under my mom’s shawl always shyly spying;
The child's actions are reactions to my own, I feel he responds without speaking a word,
he's a small kid I think,  but with an intelligence untold, he's just 6 months old;
he makes his knees *****, crawling around all the time I can see,
I catch him make him sit, clean him, while he's in a hurry to flee;
he tries to walk, holding the table, along with it he progresses towards me,
grabs my legs looking up, his eyes take hold of me, they plead please lift me;
It is difficult to hold back, with all the love I am overflowed,
I love to take him in my arms, and he too is overjoyed to be towed;
playing with my face he's happy and all smiles,
he then gets bored and tries to get down, poking me in the eyes;
For those few hours, I am far off from this real world of mine,
playing with a newborn, sets me free, I feel almost alive;
He teaches me many a lessons I feel, as he can always have his way,
live along happily, with all the loving and crying, he can play all day;
He can never make me angry, hits me whenever he wants,
Whenever he misses me a kiss on my cheeks he plants;
A child I see will always be loved and cared for,
because his feelings are inborn and the words not taught before;
He always has me whenever he wants but I am never content,
cause I just can't help asking for such blissful moments more and more.....
Saksham Garg Sep 2017
Why is there a need for me to not be like the the rest of the world?
Why should I not be like them to them?
I am insignificant compared to the world...
Why must I try to change it?
Why must I embody the better of them?
Why can't I go and be cruel and selfish and ignorant like them?
I might as well end up being their superlative....
Answer me..... Why can't I give up?
Why am I wired like this?
This world is beyond saving... The belief I had that I'm like this cause someday I might end up showing them that my path is the righteous one...
No.
The world isn't finite nor is it infinite... It's meaningless.... So i might as well be the best at being selfish cause that's what I'm searching for... "my self".... How else does one find it??
If you have answers... Answer me. Else...
Fade away.... Like everything and nothing.
Drunk and ****** writings.. Don't even remember writing this...
Saksham Garg Apr 2015
When the brandy and *** can't **** enough memory cells,
The soul melts and bleeds through life,
Lies and apologies, when begin to define,
And every morning weaker you get and weaker your strife,

The cigarettes you smoke, no matter how many,
Cannot calm down, the thumping of your heart,
A sniveling thought, beats all rationale out of your mind,
And enough blood flows into the head's unworthy parts,

Cynicism they call it, a little realistic you want it to seem,
The days simply blur together, not one good thing can just heal,
All of the pitiness you feel for yourself,
Losing it all to your own weakness, rewinding life's reel,

Nothing feels right, everything is just wrong,
A new life you want, a brighter daylight that's all,
You pain is belittled by that of the world,
Your suffering suffers from a mighty imaginary fall,

The next day is afar it seems,
This night is yours to steal,
But for how long will you be a theif, a liar, an escapist inside,
Truth you don't speak, for hurtful it is with every stride,

All defences are now lost,
The string is now taught,
Breaking and splitting,
Is all you got,
Freedom has a price,
And the price is your head,
Goodbyes are one too many,
All is too little to be said,

Me it is and me it was,
Not enough, never strong,
Couldn't walk by myself,
Limp and stumble, never jog,
This is it, is this the end,
Of me as I knew I was,
Better I don't know,
But a quitter not at all.
I'll see you again, tomorrow,
If not with hope, at least with resolve,
To be a man, just another man,
With miles to walk,
And problems to solve.
Sighs of solitude
Saksham Garg Nov 2015
It feels easy to you,
Me, drinking my troubles each night,
Try sometime, to gulp a day's worth of pain in a shot,
Let me too hear the reminiscences of the time..
When you'd swallowed your tears and i never found out.

It feels simple enough to you,
Me, intoxicating my crashing heart,
The whiskey is indeed bitter and hard to swallow,
Try sometime to go one more, just one more,
Feel the pain of subduing your pain, that follows.

You say, being honest is hard,
I'm wrong when i lie, when i said I'm alright,
Standing up straight to hold you, when I'm falling is exhausting,
Hold up when you're falling one time,
Know it is never easy my way.
It's easier to want everything, have it all
Much harder to do everything, trying to make it all work.
Saksham Garg Aug 2014
Fighting an inward battle,
Smiling at the world outside,
Not that it was supposed to be satisfying,
It was better than cowering to life and dying.

It's an old man's game, I think,
To think too much about everything that goes on,
But helpless one must be,
For stuck in mazes inside of his head he is,
Unable to move beyond.

Alive one is,
When in love or in war,
Rephrase that saying, saying all's fair,
Darling, it's only in life,
It's never fair at all.

War is not meant to decide right or wrong,
It's simply against all odds,
Like loving someone you can't have,
Yet living only for a night with her alone.

That's how it is with some people,
Just, unlucky some are, or so they seem,
Fated to be a rebel, a fighter,
Only solace in struggle, and only sleep in dreams.
Inebriated writings. Poorly strung together words, oft forced to rhyme.
Alcohol, is it a sin?
Truth, is it divine?
Saksham Garg Jun 2014
Don't do it they say,
Oh but they all fly,
Invoking a Deity,
As if there is one, coming in view,
In the final act of play;

Foolish sonderings they are,
Illogical yet stark,
Yet only the illuminated wonder,
If it's possible to light a match in the dark.

— The End —