Poetry

High on Friendship

image_4753242_3

On the crossroad of life,

I met a familiar face, who I call my friend,

Her friendship is refreshing like the morning dew,

When I see darkness and a little strife,

She is a ray of sunshine in my life.

 

A girl with countless dreams,

Her aim in life is to seek joy in the present,

According to her dependency on the future is a repent,

Every Friday she lights up a cigarette with a shot of whiskey,

Telling her to fasten the car seat belt may be a little risky,

Dancing to the tunes of Yo Yo honey,

Zipping through traffic with hands in the air, people find this a little funny.

 

This friend of mine is a little crazy with a vivid soul,

A little too honest with a heart of gold,

I call her, goddess Athena,

She is bold as a brass,

Be careful of her lioness roar,

I call her, goddess Venus,

She is kind hearted and showering joy, is her daily chore.

 

Her divine grace lights up my life like a melodious song,

She is the answer to my prayers,

In this inhuman town, she is the face of humanity,

Oh lord! Please keep her by my side,

You only have this to abide.

Amen!

 

This is the face that I know,

Which has the same familiar glow,

I think I must have known her from somewhere once before,

This is the face that I so adore.

Advertisements

Grace of London

14__night_photography_girl_model_long_black_dress_dark_streets_slow_shutter_portrait_conceptual_car_lights_street_lamp_nikon_d800_50_mm_f1.4_clonmel_tipperary_ireland-749x500

 

On the streets of London,

Night at its darkest hour where despair is in abundance,

Eyes full of hope starring at the open sky,

Abomination towards mankind in heart calling happiness a big lie,

Despised by the ignorant society,

Midnight madness strikes her,

Crying her heart out like an infant,

She wandered on the streets of despair with a youthful harlots curse.

 

Reciting verses of Wordsworth,

Out of the dark,

A knight appeared,

Magnificent as a stallion he stands before her.

 

At the loneliest hour she experienced mankind’s sheer hatred and kindness in the same night,

He took her hand to the garden of hope,

Love struck grace with a wild card of existence,

She lay in the arms of the knight,

Only to discover it as a lonely dream,

A mere illusion leaving tears in her eyes.

 

The wind whispers a merry song again,

Her eyes lit up like the shimmering stars,

Gray November and white December shall die,

As the days go by,

On this ground her tears lie,

A flower besides her blossoms soothing her melancholic cries.

 

Demons & Angels

Demonagel1

I shall count the stars in the sky,

This heart of mine is in pain as the days goes by.

 

The bright light of the moon is veiled by my iniquity,

Uprightness is lost like the treasures in the sea,

The prickling pain is sharp and constant,

Weeping and crying with shaking hands,

Joy and happiness is the dull fairy tale which was preached.

 

Soul friend of mine,

She sends her love,

On the wings of a dove,

I wonder what she will say,

If I tell her that I cry every day,

And I have to start all over again.

A Prayer

pray3_Fotor

 

In the swamp,

A secluded soul hidden behind the thorns,

There is a comfort in the relationship I share with this lonely sky,

Why God why?

I screamed, I wept after this soul crushing defeat.

 

I sing the hymns with a bleeding throat,

May death sweep me of my feet to ease the pain of the melancholy life,

Avoiding the settlement,

The angels leave me to grieve in solitude.

 

The voices in my head grew louder,

That I must bow so low before the mighty lord,

To bring solace to the troublesome soul,

Frantic shouts to the lord, to let me weep through the night,

There may be joy in the morning which may bring some light.

 

The cryptic voices from me to the lonesome nature,

Is the omnipotent, one with the heart that deviseth wicked imaginations?

Is he the one with mischief and a false idol?

Dancing the dance of the devil on the fiddlers tune?

 

All hope blown away with the wind,

Darkness looms over the deprived soul,

Evil flourishes.

The Girl I Met This Summer

tumblr_lmnf0sGSfc1qjf5bgo1_500_large-1024x1024
Out of site but not out of mind,
Her words are always kind,
Her kind heart is a fountain of pleasure,
Her smile spreading joy in the vicinity which is to treasure,
She is like Shakespeare’s poetic verse,
Don’t take her away oh lord I shall have you to curse.

Oh lord I follow you with all my devotion,
But the Gods also mock my bewildering emotions,
To be with her once more is the only notion,
When I wander in darkness,
She rescues me with her saintly notion.

The angels gentle smile,
The angles grace,
The angles sparkling eyes,
To lay my eyes on them is the only escape from this melancholic life cries.

 

 

Tree of Life : A Son’s Odyssey

father-and-son1

Into the depths of nature peer,

Hand in hand with his father he walks in the woods,

He only believes, there’s a miracle here,

But this was only a dream as he feared.

Standing on the porch a little boy with tears in his eyes,

His whole childhood filled with lies,

Awaiting his guardians love, his heart is filled with cries,

Waiting for the tiny tales that would put him to sleep,

His father scowled at him like a bolt of thunder,

Was this his bleak destiny he always wondered?

As time moves on,

These questions shall shape,

Where were your blessings?

Where were the fairy tales that would put me to sleep?

Where were the lessons of life?

Why did you considered me as a foe?

As the years move on,

His mended heart could take no more,

He saw others fathers would sweep them into a giggling ecstasy,

To be lost in wonderland called “the home” where they were shaken like a laughing rag,

He was far away from reality,

Just keeping faith and endure when tested the most.

He trusted in the lord with all his heart,

And not leaning on his own understanding,

Walking on the godly path,

Was only his part,

Constantly hearing the voices from heaven saying “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”

Mourning and desperately seeking for an island of sanity,

As he was drowning in sorrows, this was his only tragedy.

Wandering with Sorrow

lonely-girl-210083

 

I have wandered too far,

Nearing death with blinding sight,

I sit with loneliness blocking the path of hope,

Lost dreams and foolish hopes shall fill my grave.

 

Little more wine and little more crying,

Still drowning in the sorrows of life,

My tears fall upon the blinding dust of the earth,

Feeling sorry for my own ingratitude.

 

Half the night I waste in my own penance,

Half the night I waste in dreams of folly,

In a wakeful dose I sorrow.

The Magic of Poetry

Untitled

A good poem is like a bright light, a ray of sunshine, a contribution to the universe and I wanted to share this quote by Dylan Thomas for all the poetry lovers on this beautiful Saturday evening.

“A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.” 
― Dylan Thomas