"hindrance" poems
Is it not easy
to greet to someone
whom you never spoke
for a very long time?
Among all people,
I am the only one
you've always bypass
to talk to
I know the hindrance
why we ward off each other
just to make ourselves
escape the stigma
Curiosity gets bigger
Each time I look at you
Should I wait patiently
Or take the wheel further
One thing I could do...
All what I wanted to say,
all my thoughts about you,
are profoundly veiled
You and me
are the only ones
to know what's in...
where people shouldn't know
A storage box
of unspoken words
a birthday bag
of sweets
If you are reading this
do not assume
that I did them
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
Rolling with the hunches
Safety in a tiger's eye
Has become a lucid scent, a possible unction
To the staring hour, we remember for denial...?
Saviors to break for it...
Sated pleas of untoward necessity...
Themselves, in the grasp of order and wit...
Speed of patience, to a wealth we knew should, politely...
The thunder we dote, was a marvel...?
Sent to merit for the ultimatum baring
Brief as loves boredom can be, the smile is actual
Where sincerity is from ear to ear, the want of caring
Do you remember me?
Like calling a kiss a sweet lightning
Come from the cloud, we devote to ourselves, see
The question of unity become our only hope, realizing...
A real tooth of repose and hindrance, that knows, you
Ready to chew nothing but the thought, of callous interim
Where we are, the tone of a silent voice to see the rue
Of compliment, are we that we are, a solution to anarchy's whim?
Sweet deliverance
Set to wishes only a courage's mind could blow
Forces and prowess to assure an imagination with seemly chance
Timid as we are, is a truth the only, when in the house to know?
Jan 6, 2024
Jan 6, 2024 at 4:36 PM UTC
Christmas.... ugh
Isn't this a perplexing situation?
I have an interesting question...
First, I know this poem is not perfection
But does any one know what it's like
To be utterly alone on what's supposed to be
A most joyous day, surrounded by friends and family?
That annoying cherubic man
Won't be visiting my home
It's just an idiotic holiday
And no one cares I'll be alone
No homemade Christmas dinner
I might make myself a grade A steak
I'll raise a toast to myself
Nothing to boast about
Probably just whiskey, bottom shelf
I immense-ly hate Christmas
Say I'm dense-ly, I don't care
Been that way as long as I can remember
From the makeshift tree, when I was three
To being stuck homeless in a snow drift at sixteen
I can count all the "merry Christmas's" I've received
On one hand
It's never been merry, or happy
Most I got was engorged on stuffing
And a poorly cooked, dried out Turkey
No presents under the tree
With a gift tag saying Melanie
You know what? Sorry Quin,
but this is too **** depressing...
I quit...
Tequila, Velveeta
Distant, instant
Solemn, Gollum
Under-wear, I don't care
Tiny, finely
Flightless, loneliness
Hindrance, appliance
Backward, forward
Orange, purge
Rooftop, please stop
Kringle, Pringles
Ha! Invitations?
No...
Salutations...
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
Your pain and disappointment
should never be a hindrance
from accomplishing the plan
and purpose God has for you.
Isn’t our Life… a sacrament,
meant to be divinely poured
out, to honor our Creator?
As His children, we receive
His instruction and veracity,
as we carry our holy sword
and Hope that keeps us humble.
Discern the contrast to pain
and disappointment; find God’s
Joy, Mercy and His acceptance
without the need… to grumble.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC
A dozen fellows draped in threadbare tread densely,
Profligating goons in obsidian gowns
gathered under rainbow
moonshine shaking bronze hands,
howling and ****** in the shambles of the moon,
rap'n and nod'n to the notes of midnight.
The mellow marines mourned over malice,
lionizing over lost ones,
many howled venerated, exalted in wonder
in favor of their thrilling grace, and delight,
and brilliance, and might!
but some neighboring sticklers,
behaved haughty and in disdain,
of the crowdy Cavaliers bellowing echoes
signaling out
to the seers of the sea,
singing to the wands overwatching the wedding,
and ravens listened,
roving like noble patrolsmen.
Traveleres and trainees at sea
humble and bright
niave, and frieghtened
in traverse,
volatile and toiling,
tireless,
Lunatics, (laughing, laughing, laughhing,)
Rumaging through rain,
fireciely,
rallying and rableroused,
through towering halls of mohogony,
hefty and wholesome were their hearts
though, beast of the woodsy edifice
were foul and benumb
scowling with contempt,
haste to devide and devised to hindrance.
Hence the heroes heed
to the valleys of rose, and violet,
and strawberry fields of forever,
seeking Saint Nicholas,
in the bustling Byzantium,
in the murky shadows of doubt.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
i am convinced now that
no passion exists
like that between
a man and his craft.
no love
like the love for solitude,
by which one can enter
a world all his own,
and plunge to its unfathomable depths,
carelessly disregarding his return.
no quest otherwise compares-
oh how could it?
when countless years of history
can never be retold,
never be reenacted
with different players and different settings?
a man plays a role for
a day, a month, a year, a decade,
then withers in the sun, a palm in the desert.
no amount of memories can be remade,
and no amount of care is remembered.
he is destined only to be vessel of loneliness
for others to mistakenly join and unjoin.
but in his craft
a man loses himself.
he has only his love to invest
and only his love to be returned.
when stricken with failure
he selfishly laps it all up,
gathers it close to his heart,
and holds it as treasure, locked and filed.
he searches for the bottom with lighted torch,
the end with relentless fervor,
finds no evil along the way to be a hindrance,
has no expectation dashed and destroyed.
his eagerness for success drives him deeper.
his delusions of grandeur,
perpetually emboldened.
come find me, i am waiting for you
the solitude beckons him into its fissure,
the cleft in the crust of civilization,
indescribable and hardly intelligible to others.
yet its perfection is infinite as the stars are remote.
with enthusiasm does a man pursue that perfection,
does he pray to be with that god,
Lord of his life and Giver of his breath.
he is a post for flags to be hung,
seen only by those who wander the same mountains,
searching for a chasm of their own.
he is unaided in his walk with the stars,
windowless and guided by celestial phosphorescence.
a man needs silence,
darkness beneath his eyelids,
and space in his bed to breathe.
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
968
Fitter to see Him, I may be
For the long Hindrance—Grace—to Me—
With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
Some passing Year—A trait bestow
To make Me fairest of the Earth—
The Waiting—then—will seem so worth
I shall impute with half a pain
The blame that I was chosen—then—
Time to anticipate His Gaze—
It’s first—Delight—and then—Surprise—
The turning o’er and o’er my face
For Evidence it be the Grace—
He left behind One Day—So less
He seek Conviction, That—be This—
I only must not grow so new
That He’ll mistake—and ask for me
Of me—when first unto the Door
I go—to Elsewhere go no more—
I only must not change so fair
He’ll sigh—”The Other—She—is Where?”
The Love, tho’, will array me right
I shall be perfect—in His sight—
If He perceive the other Truth—
Upon an Excellenter Youth—
How sweet I shall not lack in Vain—
But gain—thro’ loss—Through Grief—obtain—
The Beauty that reward Him best—
The Beauty of Demand—at Rest—
3.4k
They’re recruiting me
MI6
And the CIA
Land sakes alive
Dual citizenship
No hindrance to me
Helps to have a major in Slavic languages
And an Oxford degree
How they latched on to me
I don’t really know
That Dad worked at
Arlington might have put them in the know
Interesting life choices being offered
Investment banking has its rewards
That’s on the table
I’m inclined to VC
I could have a capital time
Avoid DC and endless bureaucracy
See the world
It’s nice to be wanted
I feel like the girl everyone wants to dance with
I’m still at the prom
I’ll ask my parents
I know they’ll have thoughts
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 10:55 AM UTC
Ignorance is such a beautiful thing,
But oh how toxic it can be.
You poisoned my mind with words of beauty,
Songs of joy my heart did sing,
But now that I know the truth,
Your reputation has been tainted.
How perfect a picture of deceit you painted.
Your behavior is (for a lack of a better word) uncouth.
Some warned that trusting you would be unwise,
But an underlying dissonant chord grew.
Maybe deep down I always knew,
But you spout such symphonious lies.
You devoured my helplessness in a bite so vicious,
But I wanted to live in my reverie,
I didn’t believe the tales of your devilry.
To my morality I’ve become oblivious.
My rationality has become a hindrance.
How can I be wrong if I did not know?
The only thing now (even as it seems impossible) is to let go,
But never will I forget the beauty of my ignorance.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
I look into the past
seeing the wars and battles
of my fore-fathers
and my fore-mothers
and think
with every step
into the future we take
the less we want to
take a step back into
the past
then I look into the future
seeing the wars and battles
of my children
and my children’s children
and think
with every step
away from the past we take
the less we would want to
take a step into the future
then I look at this moment
sitting here, frozen in time,
half-finished poem fresh
on the screen and think
today is no different from tomorrow
and tomorrow is no different from
yesterday
frozen in time
I pray for the future
pray that the mistakes
of the past provide
no hindrance and
that the mistakes
in the future do
not hurt those
still to come
along
Mar 9, 2011
Mar 9, 2011 at 5:56 AM UTC
There’s maybe a million of unspoken words I’ve already put into poetry,
When clouds were shrouding the skies above me and all I see is darkness,
When I felt dejected, and when I felt like I’m being surrounded by an air of melancholy,
No poem was ever written because of gratitude and happiness
Writing is what I do when on the verge of breaking down,
But you came and changed the game, the gloomy days are gone
I used to write sad poems before, all that’s found in my face is a frown,
Now I cannot contain my joy, like beautiful sunflowers dancing in the lawn
You are the sun that shone on me after dusky days,
The happy song that finally played on the cassette
You are the guy every actor on romantic movies portrays,
I chose you, that, I won’t regret
I love the warmth of your fingers, entwined around mine
I long for your embrace, craving your lips pressed against my cheek
But just by knowing you feel the same way, I’ll be just fine
Hoping you’ll stay for good because I may not admit it, but without you sweetheart, I’ll be weak
You made me believe in the impossible once more,
You told me distance is never a hindrance, yes I believe you,
Because even when we're miles away, you’re the one this heart beats for
I won’t be writing sad poems ever again, there’s no reason to
In your arms, it feels a lot like home,
In this mad world, you're my happy place, that’s true
After a long wait, finally here’s a happy poem,
This is an ode to my source of happiness, for you my love, I love you
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 8:26 AM UTC
_______________________________________
The radiance of my pen was already ebbed
My outcry seem now, not that much effective
But this could not be the hindrance for me to go on
For as long as my pen breath I won't ceased
But foe owed a vigor and have a lot of arms
That it needs a miracle for them to be ruined
But as a mark of history, armor was defeated by a pen
That wisdom count most than those of precious gem
But now indeed the battle was not mostly of war
Instead a disease that ruled the heart of many earthlings
That thy deeds sound very earsplitting
Do I have enough ink to calm their flame?
But maybe this time I was destined to be defeated
For I am weak and one breath away to death
Oh sky! I should be dead! But this i'm quite sure
That my pen will continue to battle....
written: June 14, 2001 @ 9:00 AM
Mysterious Aries
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Behind a person's success is a sacrifice;
Would you love to know the tale behind?
Actors and actresses preparing their act,
But behind the curtains there's a hidden fact.
Heels and shoes are filled with shards of glass;
Behind dress and tuxedo's there's a hidden blast
— Withal on the lights, they genuinely smile.
Let's move on and see the richest person alive:
They lurk abaft the gallanting suits and tie;
No day their feet cannot step on bars of silvers and gold,
Constantly crediting the humanity's sliver of hope
— Supported by government for the economy's growth.
Do you know someone born to be Einstein's child?
—A person whose thought process is unbelievably wide,
“What are emotions?” They frequently asked;
“Are those things related to a logical fact?”
Feelings are hindrance towards a brighter side.
We all know the people whom we proclaimed as leaders—
Behind the tall, wide walls they silently titters:
“Citizens are corrupted with money and blind rights;
This nation will never survive in a war nor in childish fights.”
Some politicians bought their roles, drinking leisure on their seats.
And there's someone like me— a bit higher, on the top—
Words are magical, making an astonishing plot;
Thy pen bleeds thread, weaving a wondrous craft—
Who knows they withhold theirs and other people's life art,
They'll keep going as long as the threadmill continues to spin.
Their tales are narrated a bit later, a bit little;
But that was a telltale with lots of missing details,
Are you willing to share the secrets found in the middle?
Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 5:41 PM UTC
Water take no cleansing action to his detention
That has felt no remorse for the notion of vindication
Foolish mentality, child without maturity
Lead by impulse, and lulled by a narcissist
Sitting there like gravity has given you control
Ignorant individual entrapped with your own soul
Take one moment, talk, not to her but for her
Exactly what was your discourse, are you her
Did you act on juvenile inclination or fortification
Subconsciously lost to wicked temptation
Sincerely do you have a mental hindrance
I’m subjecting to name-calling because of this dance
Who are you following what are you allowing
Your letting the past mold your thinking
Don’t get defensive you made the offensive
Your know the history, yet you let lust be submissive
“Go back” that is what you lack, the thought to review
And guide your way through and accept you’re flawed
Jan 31, 2010
Jan 31, 2010 at 11:37 AM UTC
There is so much that I wish I could understand…
and so much more I wish I could explain.
The love I feel inside comes out distorted;
I feel trapped inside a prison—a prison called “what you see of me”.
Some are afraid of who they really are…
But I am afraid no one knows who I really am;
No one sees what is deep inside of me.
I am forever stuck inside perceptions—a prison called “what you see of me”.
I keep trying to improve; I keep trying to reconcile.
The distortions have become my prison; I am trapped inside hell.
If it is hell to you and it is hell for me… then what the hell am I doing?
believing I can change—a prison called “what you see of me”.
With every fail, the pain deepens…
Successes are too little; successes are too late.
How to receive love; How to give love…
when I must question everything that everybody sees?
How I say it (not what I believe) is the reason I reside in—a prison called “what you see of me”.
A description of me sounds like a description of my worst enemy.
A burden to society; A thorn to those who try to love me;
A hindrance to those who want to know me.
It isn’t the real me… it is the weathered walls of—a prison called “what you see of me”.
But isn’t perception another form of reality?
What does it matter what I am… if that is all anyone can see?
I suppose I know the answers; I just don’t know the why…
Why I continue to believe that I can change—a prison called “what you see of me”.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Fear of absolution, relishing of hindrance.
A wall of black, darkness that rests within
To fall under blistering defeat to reiterate the blood red scrolls of sin.
Decimate remains of a hallowed grave,
Torment and desire to those who strayed.
Falter under knowledge of an atrocious cause,
Beg for the black widow to hear you call.
Succumb to the temptation of a lustrous quintessence,
Grasp at the hot wind of a deserts blast.
Underestimate the repudiation of the reserved contrast,
To be forever forgotten, but to always last.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
*Rise the way you want to rise
keep not ambitions in disguise
go as far go as close
with your finger touch the tiger's nose.
Do it the way you want to do
be not scared of jeer and boo
walk the path bled in thorn
with your hand grab the bull's horn.
Act the way you deem it right
you have in you the needed might
fight the enemy in its own den
in your fists clench the lion's mane.
Speak the way says your heart
say it straight never skirt
tell it all even the bitter thing
with your finger catch the hornet's sting.
Live life the way you want it
once committed no retreat
brave hindrance of the darkest night
in your wings soar the eagle's height.*
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
I am finally free from the ******* of my rib cage
the shallowness of breathing is no longer a hindrance
Life is no longer my keeper
and Death no longer the enforcer
I am the air
and I am the vacuum of space.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
Words may be a hindrance
Forming hard crust over feelings
You wanted to convey
At the core of those words
The true meaning is lost forever
At times, when words don’t suffice
Pure and raw feelings are more potent
There are many miles traversed
Between the feelings and the words
Somewhere, the line is drawn inadvertently
Hurdles imaginary are the toughest ones
Endless numbers of words do not right
The wrongs meted out to the true feelings
Heart will wither away, if not revived
At the avenue where words are shunned
It’s where hearts shall meet, without prejudice
Not weighed down by the frills of words
Life is embellished with silence
When hearts do the talking, sans the words
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
For I did not come here in hopes of a hello
Of a simple stroll down our village
Or an acknowledgement of my existence
I came here because I care
I care
I see in your eyes the difference
Cover up with words soothing to the ear
But actions onset on hindrance
I did not come for a duet
Or a memory that we’d never regret
A heart to heart throughout the night
I did not come for my own benefit
I come because I care
I care
I worry, in fact
That you do not realize
How much you are
Who you are
Or your worth
Because the things you do show otherwise
But see in my eyes, and the eyes of others
Too concerned while we watch the beautiful eagle continue to believe he’s just a worm
You’re too distraught by the blindfold in front of yours
To realize the cries for help
Drowned out with insanity
Because the world is stealing your flame
While you continue to be baffled by the pickpocket’s show
"Do not take it!" I scream
“Do not let it take you!”
but those eyes
So precious, full and alive
are
still
blindfolded.
The procession goes on while the main attraction continues to burp out synthetic love and false hopes
Temporary
enjoyment
And you have become the fool of the show
With that blindfold
Darned, pestering blindfold.
I will still scream for its demise!
I will still plead for the final scene!
I will rip away the curtains held up with burgundy lies!
I will still care.
The show must eventually stop!
For actors must be given a break and plays must be forgotten
To not be cliche
There will be a time when there are no more encores
An end to the grand show
scattered flowers on the first row
And utter silence in an empty space
A dangerously
Dark
Desolate
Stage
But I will still be there
Holding a match for a new flame
And a warmer smile
For I care
I truly care
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 8:57 AM UTC
People leave a lot
Without care
Pretend like we are not
The person that we were
Time and distance
Never compare
to whatever hindrance
wanting to overwhelm
Stare closely.
I feel what to feel.
you lie so deeply
regardless, you conceal.
Hit the ground
and break into pieces
But you stick around
without hugs and kisses
cold maybe
sadness to disagree
that this right here
Is wrong for me
An inaudible lie
obscure but still wanting
There until you turn
to whatever is your calling.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
It is a general saying that What You Seek is Seeking You. If it is so , then why the sought for (i.e. God ) is not meeting the seeker or seeker is discovering the sought for (i.e. God). It is very easy to say that God is looking and searching for us. If it is so, then why we deviate from our path. Why we are attracted to the lust, money or other worldly material. If God is searching us, then certainly he has to guide us in tracing him. But the reality is just opposite. If tread the path of God, people will laugh at you. If you are working in any office, it is very easy to talk about politics, movies, girls, foods, clothes etc. It is very difficult to find a companion with whom you can speak about God. It looks as if God has created all these hindrances so that it is not convenient to seek him.
You seek about movie and you find movie theater. You look for clothes, you find the multiples mall easily. But what about God. Go and ask questions to so called Spiritual Leaders, Spiritual Guru and ask for their experience regarding proof of god, and you do not find definite answered.
I have met various so called spiritual leaders, spiritual Gurus and asked about their spiritual experience about the God. But I receive only hesitating answer, that too also in Negative. I do not want to name such leaders.
I have also read many books like GOD SPEAKS by MEHER BABA, LAW OF SPIRIT WORLD by KHORSHID BHAWNAGRI, AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF YOGI by Yogananda Paramhansa, Gospel of Shri Ramakrishna. But the end result is confusion. Each book gives different account of God. If God is seeking us then why the same is confusing us by providing so diverse ways of following him. Ramakrishna says money and women has to be avoided on the path of God. While Osho and Modern Gurus says just contrary. In fact in word of Osho, without treading the path of *** , it is difficult to follow the path of God for modern man.
For Vedanta, the seeking has to follow the ascetic path. The path the self restraint. While the path of tantra (the Left Marg) to utilize women and wine for attaining the Samadhi. It is Just incomprehensible to believe that just two contradictory path lead to realization of same God.
When you look to go nearer to a particular cities or places , then on the way you start meeting land marks, evidencing that the path, you are following , is going to lead you to your destination. In fact on the ways, you find many stones, indicating the distance which is yet to be covered in reaching the destination. But in case of God, things are just contradictory. The more people you approaches to seek advise regarding the God, the more disappointment comes to you. The more book you read to tread the path of God, the more confusion you creates for yourself. The more you discuss the topic of people around, the more alone you become. The more you tread the path of truth, the difficult your life become.
Then how it can be said that WHAT YOU SEEK, IS SEEKING YOU?????
In fact , truth is that What we seek, creates hindrance in being sought for.
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
Why do people hate the rain?
Is it just because they get wet?
Or is it how water makes their clothes transparent?
Isn’t transparency a good thing in life?
I like how rain shows the worst in most people
How moods started to swing all over
When memories kept inside start to flow out
In times the rain reminds us of the past we want to forget
When memories are kept aside
Forced to be forgotten or erased by self-induced amnesia
No hindrance is overcome
we dig shallow graves for our rotting corpses inside
I wish I could be the rain
Wanting to touch peoples heart
Making hard exteriors soft like waterfalls
Helping them make rolling waves calm
I belived that when people are at their worst they are most beautiful
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
The continuous pondering of life after death has recently plagued our existence
This might be a hindrance for our previously unfailing pious persistence
Thoughts arise that cause an imbalance in the tumultuous mind
Free you, they might, of the pacts into which you yourself do bind
Magnanimous flatulence shall reign unbridled upon the fields of plenty
But the door to unanimous qunatipulation shall come unhinged on the count of twenty
Promiscuity leads to a mind frame disgusted by a joyous initiation
Humongous amounts of gelatinous goo shall be written off as depreciation
Pig tails and concubines disperse with molecular ease
While the dead paperweights converse heatedly in Cantonese
May these words sit upon you, heavy as the dark interstellar skies
May your brain be confounded, let no infallible logic suffice
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 9:29 AM UTC
You softly light upon me unannounced
Offending all my tranquility
Sly and cunning in your swift approach
As you creep right up on me
I watch your quest with breathless interest
Yet, silently in increasing fear
Submissive to your persistent touch
As I wonder why you’re here
Do you see me as a frustrating hindrance
Or am I part of your life’s crusade
Are you taking delight in my fearful plight
Or merely wishing I’d go away
Have I become your latest amusement
To incapacitate with dreadful fear
Or would you prefer I assert my valiant pride
And vanquish you from here
I am not quite sure of your intentions
Perhaps you are not sure of mine
But I’ve grown weary of this wondering
And all this rising fear is asinine
The time has come for one of us to finally make a move
Regardless of the reasons you are here
As I know the pain you can inflict is powerful and strong
You can watch me run along in all my fear
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 6:30 PM UTC