#vigor
It is a place of abode to eternity
Everything is vivacious and startling
With the blessing of almighty!
Nature creates its own mystic presence
With its vigor and extensiveness
To make it generous!
Everything resembles with our life and its process
Inspire and embolden to lead the life!
In the end we return to the place
In search of eternal peace!
It is a place of perpetual wind
We call it ‘Balpakram’ !
Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 1:20 PM UTC
My heart soars
When I read your favourite book
It is the only way
I can be a part of your story
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 5:04 PM UTC
I find the allure of burgundy hues,
not one for the corpse of grapes,
being
squeezed of every essence of life...
But the allure haemorrhaging forth..
I could be buried within this collage of
elegance.
And when I dig myself from it,
I would paint,
seeing a picture of vigour.
Not the outline that others see ,
when
its chalk lined on the canvass.
Its not deceased,
this moment has only just breathed.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 3:44 PM UTC
"A life's outcome is determined by the vigor of one's youth."
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
The world from here looks like an endless landfill of human trash,
Crime, pollution, hate, and death,
Fill our ears and eyes and noses from the moment we wake,
Till the moment we medicate ourselves to sleep.
The air is too hot,
The people are too many,
And when I walk down the street,
I feel like an ugly alien,
But there’s a little place,
Nestled in the veins of the city,
And at night, when the air is heavy,
And the sky is quiet with darkness,
The doors open to this little place,
And the people go inside.
In this little place, everything is so lovely,
Even when the beer grows warm,
And the rain floods in through the poorly sealed garage doors,
Even when the powder on the floor is spread too thin,
And there’s not enough seats,
And the old curtains haven’t been dusted,
It’s perfect in every way.
Here, in this place,
The bar is unevenly lit, but it’s got what you need.
The old, black chandelier gives you just enough light to see what you need to see,
And the stage always has instruments,
Playing away your blues.
The curtains and tapestries swallow up the sound of the outside,
And when the music starts, you can pretend that you’re somewhere old.
A time with saxophones and an upright bass
That cry out an ode to the dancefloor.
It calls to people,
In trousers and Mary Janes,
As they swing, **** and lindy across the concrete to the sound of their anthem.
Skirts swing,
Shoes slide,
And the people close their eyes when the notes are especially smooth.
Glasses of watered down scotch and lipsticked martinis are left at the tables
And inhibitions are left at the door.
Low, sultry tones resonate through the creaking wooden platforms beneath the tables,
So no matter who you are,
The cat swinging his gal on the floor,
Or the one nodding from the booth,
You can feel it.
But everyone,
Everyone down to the big man at the door,
Has to get on their feet.
The music is too sweet,
Too good and too smooth,
Not to try it on.
Gotta try a little taste of that jazz,
That old swing,
That smoky blues,
Whoever you are,
Oh, you’ve gotta try a little bit of that.
Someone takes someone else,
And off the people go.
One foot, two feet, three feet, four feet,
And on the floor, they slide, swing, and ****
To the excited fluttering of everyone’s collective heartbeat
Beat,
Beat,
Beat,
Into the microphone,
You can’t resist,
Whether you’re “good” or “bad”,
If you dance, you dance,
In jeans, in a dress,
Suspenders or sweats,
If you dance,
You dance,
That’s all there is.
Someone sings out your deepest woes from the stage,
And you shake, rattle, and roll,
Until your feelings are all over the floor,
You don’t need love here,
You don’t need any of it.
There’s no husband and wife,
You can’t go steady,
Romance is a faintly remembered legend,
All you need here is dance.
Rhythmic pounding of feet against the ground.
That bass starts to strum,
And everything you thought you felt is replaced,
Replaced by air moving through you.
If you thought you missed someone,
Think again,
If you thought you had unrequited love for someone,
Think again.
Here, the people hop, skip, and glide from wall to wall,
And whatever they felt before,
Flies off of them like dust.
Because we’re the dancefloor people,
And we can’t feel a thing.
By the end of the night,
You’re lucky to breathe,
Feet red and sore,
Body wrung out like a rag,
There’s nothing left to feel but your mattress and a gratifying ache in your limbs.
The dancefloor people can’t see the kingdom of trash,
We can’t see it from here.
Spinning, wild and hot,
Just trying to stay on our feet,
Grins splitting weary faces,
No, we don’t see that bad, bad,
Ugly, ugly,
Earth.
We’re the dancefloor people,
We’re aliens, we’re characters in a story,
And when you come looking for us,
We’ll swallow you up,
And you’ll be dancefloor people, too.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
TRY ME
Like swimming in the sea
I am a wave crashing over you
With a current too strong
And too deep
TRY ME
On the side of a cliff
With arms outstretched and fingers clenched
Reaching for everything
Be it far short of eternity
TRY ME
When I’m standing tall
Like a pendulum
Rocking in the springtime of youth
Until my stride becomes a bitter fall
TRY ME
As the wicked winds are howling
Having carved their way inland
Ever trying to push me off the edge
Midway through my own decent
TRY ME
If you dare
TRY ME
If you will
AND TRY ME
If you'd like to see
All of the TRY that is left in ME
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 8:15 PM UTC
That hot-blooded youth
Expired at last
Cold grease-fire ashes
Just soot on the soul.
Where are the children
And where are the wives
Where are the stocked-up answers
For the rest of his life?
Here is the bourbon
Here is the wine
There the eyes sparkle
But the limbs have all declined.
His speech is fiery
His decisions forthright
But where there was once a cuff to the cheek
There is grasping for a cane.
I respect the man
I acknowledge his might
It's death I despise
And its sapping of rights.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
*My old self keep dying everyday
To keep tryst with new beginning
Young heart beating with vigor
Every vein filled with brimming hope
Charting new territories
Being better than my old persona
Inception of fresh perspective
Every cosmic particle in me enthused
After fresh lease of life*
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC