Here I am
Laying sculptures for you,
While at the same time
Waiting for you
To appear
Out of the blue.

Talent was not worth it,
Until it turned into skill
Rise against the odds
To go in for the ****
Thought it was supposed to be silky smooth,
Thorns in a bed of roses lay still
Hate it for the un-nerving truth
Victory accompanied by a sunken face
And a broken tooth,
What once was
A mountain to climb,
Now within my reach
The peak of ascent
Toiling along the way
A threshold to breach,
A view so spectacular
I could live there forever
Alas, the only thing worse,
Than an incoming frown
Is the dream I was having
Of getting to the top
Without ever putting a foot down,
A ghost of perdition
A drunken semaphore of
Nihilistic fortitude
Scarring enough to even put
Any effort in the journey,
Thinking all I had was
What I ever needed.

Talking to myself,
With a glass of whisky sour
If only love was a cake,
That I'd thoroughly devour
Hard to get off the
intentional high
In a world of unending emotions,
All I know is a melancholic sigh
Quiet uninhibited, this feeling of trance
All I needed is one last dance
Yet here I am
Hopping some brews,
If I fall in love again
I'm sure it'll make the news
The regular life
Now seen as an aberration
Of what used to be,
When we used to hold hands
With the whole world at our feet,
Just like the sky won't stop turning blue
Rest assured darling
I'll always remember you.

The iridescence of this feeling,
shall be the guide to a better path ahead
hoping we will strive,
to make newer mistakes instead
If you ever need me
to show you the way
always remember that
it's the rain that makes the tears go away.

I met a girl
Last night,
When the stars aligned
In a straight line,
Like a 2-d plane
With the axis-aligned,
She came in
Like an external variable,
To bring another dimension
To add an edge
And take the edge off,
While I try to understand
This secluded sense
Of restless validation,
I try to jot it down
These words in commotion
Alas, poetry in motion.

How far will you go
To get labelled as a giver,
Till there's nothing left to give
And you mutate into a taker.

Flipping through nothing
But empty pages
Made me realise,
You see much further
With an open heart
And iridescent eyes.

yet another quiet reverie
precursor for a life forgotten
snatched away like the dreams I never had
of lush green valleys around the mansions,
fancying a meal of venison
in a clandestine shade of night
sparkling wine was a flavour of few,
lying awake at night
with a lover by my side

raucous laughter coming from all around
kind behaviour of the family makes you astound,
as a whole rather than a half
all together cherishing your art

lives were made and ruined in the night,
take it from an artist for losing everything in sight

a kleptomaniac of not just thoughts but words to boot,
fishing for inspiration while straightening my suit

scrambling for meaning even in the delusions,
living in denial rather than waking up from illusions.

sometimes my nimble fingers
slide across these coarse pages
subconsciously but smoothly
as if having a conversation,
filling these blank pages
with ghost stories
collected from the sages
of past ages unknown,
almost flirting with my sanity
running off on their own
like a free bird
talking to me
'Hey, are you reading this?
Look, I'm writing poetry!'.

it keeps me awake at night,
I try to escape but it holds me back
for all the things said and done,
I thought I could so easily run
away from it all,
but life holds you accountable
and I take full responsibility,
but it gets tiring
maybe I want to be happy
just for one day,
without having to think about
what ghost of my past
may show up tomorrow to play
for even though the days,
they come and go
as they please
without me in control,
what won't I give
to trade the dusky nightfall of yesterday
for the crack of dawn tomorrow
with that in my mind,
I try to live and grow
and I still cast a shadow,
that I may never outgrow
yet there is a light,
at the end of the tunnel
and I aspire to reach there someday,
for it may take away all the pain
and shine on like a crazy diamond.

without a vision
people are rarely reminiscent,
of what they have been seeking
and fall into a deep torpor
maybe its this slumber
that makes them realize,
all they wanted was right there
in front of their eyes.

there was a girl, brave and bold
carried in her heart, a potful of gold
searching everywhere, knowing nowhere
where she would get her answer.

with such strong desires held in her soul,
a fire ignited in her heart
as she wandered into the dark,
the rustling of a brook, somewhere in the woods
where she would often sit by and ponder
'Is happiness all I seek?
or is it just one of life's very old tricks
and maybe it reeks?'

with such a heavy heart
she walks alone into the woods,
contemplating whether life is something
that she never really understood.

stuck in an abyss,
staring down into nothingness
as if it will shine a light,
when you least expect it
lost myself in a manner
it was hard to recover,
with the missing pieces
still at large
but can't give it up,
not yet
I have a long way to go
before I eventually blow
looking for some sunshine
after this punishing snow,
clear as a crystal
while my husky's fur bristle
getting a cup of coffee to go,
its high time for me to grow
more than I ever know,
I feel it is harder
to pull yourself
out of the funk
when you have been down and out,
there is that element of doubt
hindering your next move,
to get out of the abyss
and find yourself in a place
surrounded by love and hope
sometimes even your heart can't cope
simply because it ain't used to it,
but this time I shall submit
to a higher belief
that everything is gonna be alright
give my future self a chance,
a chance at redemption
to take responsibility
for myself
and those around me,
a chance to start over
fail
and rise again.

a man's word
is all he has,
a poet's word
may just be
a pipe dream.

maybe I saw her
at the laundromat
and just missed her,
I was looking for a change,
while she walked
away.

my frantic anxiety used to wait for you,
now it just waits for a notification.

another nihilistic overture,
for the impending hedonism
a callous cacophony
looks to be rather innocuous,
a brazen haze
of a lifestyle,
every night
a bohemian escapade,
thought we came far away
past life abandoned
that felt austere
yet salubrious,
this air reeks of dystopia
such a rootless feeling
keeps me riding
the nomadic hound,
a desolate heart
in a victorian home,
all around I see
empty eyes
and wretched souls,
need a shining light
for the start of something beautiful,
before the world crumbles down
fueled by fattening greed,
trees fall to the hatchet
realizing a dismal trepidation,
the fear of a blank planet.

art, in any form,
helps deal with what is real,
an escape to a euphoric place
a way out of the sacrilege
that we now call living.

words can't often do justice
to such a beautiful place,
for even the love songs fail
whenever we embrace.

maybe the world is darker now
than it used to before,
maybe we have now raised our voices
to speak up,
our beliefs and fears
all out there
in the open now.

the world was as pure as the canvas before,
now that we are painting it
without ever knowing
if we will finish it,
tricking ourselves into thinking
we hold the brush
and decide the strokes
we decide,
our humble abode
rather than fearing
a loss of control
the world,
it is out there
for us to feel
as it has always been
through time,
an inviolate home
for those with beauty in their eyes to see.