To sit back, and behold the universe, she of old
her magnificence dwarfed, by only her silence
a cold calm it is, a true death to fantasies
to her is anger unknown, and pretense a disease
she makes no claims, of a past of yore
no books, no bones, no ancient folklore
She is at once wide awake, and in a deep sleep
but she has no dreams, just stars in streams
Millions of burning giants, tumbling around in a race
thrown apart and hurtling radiantly through space
But even with vast and glorious citizens
naively do we pretend a grasp of her essence
some content to accuse a creator for her presence
she treats our illusions with no derision
she destroys with ease, what took her millenia to create
but nothing is destroyed, just reshaped, in a new fate
a picture of modesty is the Universe so immense
she abhors all show, avoids all pretense
not a word does she speak, nor a glance too intense
She feigns no knowledge of her timeless existence
Often does one wonder, what plans she foments
but she has no motive, nor desires that her torment
All one can truly say, is that she feels no bias
She wanted to see herself, so she tried us.
But here we sit in arrogance, calling her just a creation
when what she really is, is endless, an eternal congregation
of stars and novas and pulsars and a billion others
She invites us to look, to look ever further
to see the nothing, and the everything all together.

One cannot stress too much,
the necessity of staying in touch
when the heart grows of someone fond,
laughing and dancing with them to life's song
it forgets all passage of time
gets attached to them, like two sides of a dime
but often times we must part ways
often times we are parted for days
and we long for the joy of their company again
though we think that the bond is retained
even if we were not to stay in touch
the heart is a fickle creature as such
it will quickly find a new object of affection
make a new friend, and forget that old relation
so if you cherish our friendship very much
I ask you my friend, do stay in touch.
One day we may be reunited again
Till that day let's keep alive the flame
of our lovely kinship, and hope to reclaim
some day, all our past joy again.

A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry