"guilelessly" poems
That girl doesn't inspire me a bit, let me guilelessly confess,
the one that sits right there,diametrically opposite to my roving eyes,
in her cozy corner, shielded from the view of most others,
filling the seat exactly with her perfect curvaceousness,
she has false promises written all over her many allurements
for me (who else) bored to death, at this blighted moment,
triggered by scrolling account statements when all I love to see
are words, dainty pulchritudinous words, I can munch always.
In spite of my valiant efforts,to make do with what is at hand
and appreciate the poetic bit, her body language whispers,
as my existential compulsion demands, I couldn't move any further.
I do my best, try to caress her gently with my brooding eyes,
trying hard not to look duplicitous, but my eyes, curtained off
with boredom and drooping, easily lose focus, seeing this,
her eyes pop out,yet my arrows that lost verve hit sometimes!
Now, with enthusiasm renewed,she gives it a try,but repeatedly fail,
every shot she returns is a blank, such a cruel curse of cupid!
She is an impostor, tamed sheep cross dressed as a wanton she wolf,
the easy chemical repulsion, lectures to me on the alchemy of affinity,
but how can I complain, it's not a clause in her letter of appointment.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
A rain shatters the silent peace of the dark blue Yamuna... flowing
guilelessly on its own accord by the eroded banks of time...
with waters that rise and fall, and move along in silent obedience.
In the melancholuous rain, drown the voices of those that have
sinned
voices of wet Lovers that echoed through time...
greener pastures and parched blues....
men who left their footprints in the soft sands of an immense depth ..& emerged with a part of the river,
that today carries their sins...
what kind of affection is this O'Yamuna..
abathed in the sins of our time, yet you flow so guilelessly..
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 2:52 AM UTC
I go to bed again without brushing my teeth.
Cornflakes for dinner, and coffee and tea.
Four cups, of course, will keep me from sleep,
From dreams of cars-money-dread-gasoline.
I used to love everything that tasted sweet.
Now it’s the black, bitter, burned and caffeine.
Except, sometimes, the way you make it for me:
Milk and sugar.
I know I always scoff at how much you need.
Two or three spoons, then add the cream.
Drink off the spoon, unstudied, guilelessly;
The world hasn’t caught you and made you be mean.
Dear deer-eyes, sweet-tooth, rabbit-knees:
Pour a sugar mountain as high as you please.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Dawn and night-clouds part the horizon,
Dark muddy blues turn suddenly light
Spilling change on her hues as she rises,
And oh that fullness of sight.
Glow of greeting bequests later heat-time,
Brazen sun brooks no trace of the night.
She aims to captivate dark guilelessly
With oh such flourish of style.
Her blush in pale sky flashes a brightness
Over first tremble of her prelude to fire.
She welcomes day by blazing sublimely
In oh what a show of surprise
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
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Published by Trash to Treasure Lit, April 1, 2025
Barbies wear muselet helmets
Sherlock journals clues
Cricket-stump bin clinks dismissal
Bread is hard with mouldy middle
Cheese is soft with tinted velvets
All in greens and blues
Newspapers a carpet curtain
Other signs of note
Sinks drain-weary, veiled by dishes
Door blocked from unseen militias
Ashtrays strain with liquid burden
Mangled ends afloat
Late-night fry exudes lard landslide
Interesting leads
Window signs of blunt force impact
Latches show no signs of contact
Perpetrated from the inside
Casual misdeeds
Bottles strewn with empty glasses
Evidence galore
Christmas tree is snapped, now supine
Couch chair at confusing incline
Wasting roast potato passes
Solo on the floor
Shrouded dark in grown-up questions
Case remains unsolved
Pre-teen sherlocks are defeated
Unaware that help is needed
Claiming all adult transgressions
Guilelessly involved
Knowledge comes with maturation
Young gumshoe, take heart
Heavy is the comprehension
Adulthood in wise dimension
Toughest form of education
Living will impart
Trauma is by drink upstaged
Of subterfuge beware
Brace yourself for understanding
Bottle is a sly red herring
Denouement is disengaged
You won’t find it there
Life perspective is revealing
Sooner follow pain
Core of more investigation
Drink was only compensation
Obfuscating tricky healing
Alloyed with the leaden feeling
Undiscovered chain
You were just a fledgling hawkshaw
Grant yourself some grace
Rest the blame that you digested
Drop the anger you invested
Hopping off the guilt-rage seesaw
‘Case closed’ in its place
Aug 12, 2024
Aug 12, 2024 at 10:52 PM UTC
Every human regrets existence at least once
To the bumbling genius and even the competent dunce
Assuming we live just to meet our demise
Thinking this is hell, humanity must be a disguise
Contemplating a worse case scenario
Like a curse, falling down like a domino
Ripping off hair, skin, even your very own soul
Begetting traits of a meat puppet with no true goals
Yet, even then, we choose to exist
Through tears and fears we choose to exist
When we feel queer, as we smear tears, we we choose to admit
at our lowest point, on our knees we choose to submit
The same emotions that invite us to death are all the same
Those that are frightened by it feel too ashamed
Telling us to jump off a roof, yet dissuading us
bit by bit
Vera Causa and effect, the reason yet the precipice
Our own heart hates us
Yet saves us when we want to dismiss
Maybe it's the birds chirping joyfully
The sound of children ceremoniously
The that of "It'll get better" "It must get better!"
Or that our Death brings a greater regret
Be that as it may, Exist Guilelessly and Free
Sometimes your very constraints are the ones you cannot see
To Be or Not to Be, or answer is yours
To see this life as a blessing, or an arduous Chore
Sep 26, 2023
Sep 26, 2023 at 10:10 AM UTC