Like a beam of light,
You were guiding my way,
In an abyss marked with darkness and perils,
To a brighter day.

Until it got blocked by the cloud,
Until the sun went down,
When my face turned pale,
Causing a total breakdown.

I sunk deeper in the abyss,
I sunk deeper in my past,
Having flashbacks of those good old memories,
Which were easier to reminisce.

#review #San #sonnet

Will u?

Will u sit next to me?
While I play your favourite song on the guitar,
Without u my darling,
I'm like a lonely star.

Wandering somewhere in the sky,
All the mistakes that I made,
Won't u rectify?
Can't stay away from u,
No matter how hard I try,

Darling will u kiss me tonight?
Will u capture me within your sight?
When I'll say those 3 magical words,
Down on my knees underneath the moonlight.

Will u accept my flowers?
Baby will you dance with me for hours?
While we get drenched,
Dancing in the mighty showers.

Will u give your hands in mine?
Baby will u be my lifeline?
The way I touch u,
Will always make u feel fine.

#review #poetry

I knew a girl who liked to draw,
Pictures for only her eyes.
She was more artistic
late at night.

Her drawings were different,
No paper,
No pen.
But she needed a bandage,
And wore long sleeves twenty-four/seven.

We stood by the river,
Under the stars,
When she rolled up her sleeves
And showed me her scars.

She felt embarrassed
and stared at her shoe.
Then I rolled up my sleeves and whispered,
"I draw too."

#review #yourreview #noob

You may not be able to see me with your naked eyes

Just know that my soul and blessings are always by your side


This world is a beautiful place and

my morals you imbibe will forever be your guide


I know you are going through trauma

Wishing your heart out if here was your momma


The day bleeds for you into nightfall

I feel terrible to not be there to help you through it all


But ,remember my teaching son that told you to be firm and brave

You will overcome your devils no matter how much they are grave


But please don't let that tear slide through your eye

My soul gets shattered inch by inch whenever i see you cry


For if it would be in my hands, i had made your all troubles ban

But heaven sent my child is now a capable man


For he has grown enough to deal with all the deeds

Jubilant i am seeing the growing tree of morality out of my seeds.

#mr #poetry #review

It's summer in the north
Yet the land is muddy,
From tears of sorrow

Raining season had left for long
Yet the sky isn't silent
The screams are deafening

Fear, despair and grief
Has petrified people
Into walking clouds

O Lord, we admit our sins
Grace us with peace
You are the Oft-Forgiving


#poem #review #AhmadMusa

Me and Her!
Once there was time
We used to be together
From the dawn
To the dusk till down.
We liked to see
Countless stars,
And shy moon
Under the sky
Of midnight town.
Hot summer days
Or icy winter night,
Pain of rain or
Pleasant spring,
We always walk
Holding each others
Relying hand
Side by side.
I was her heaven
And she was my oxygen
If I were
Lines of a page
Then she would be
Highlighter in them.
Now everything
In life
Is upside down
Love has turned
Into a mess
And the river
Is dead
From where we come.
Today
Me and Her
Neither lovers,
Nor friends
We are
Just strangers
With broken
Heart
And twilight
Memories
That will fade.
#poetry #review #tony

I'd kiss her cheek.
I'd feel the bump that she makes when she smiles.
Withdraw myself to look her in the eyes with her pupils dilated and her lips curving slowly to form a smile made for me.
I'd see my own reflection in her eyes.
My own pupils dilating in her dilated pupils.
My own lips forming a smile as they get closer to touch her smiling lips.
The air filling itself with a heavy blanket under which only us two exist now.
No sound penetrating us.
No outside world being a part.
Only us two in the grazing of our skins, feeling each other's sadness and sorrows mixing together into desire as we become one to be one.
To withdraw from this moment would be criminal.
To withdraw from her would be disastrous.
I don't want to leave her.
I don't want the air to have a space between us.
I want to feel her skin so long our temperatures become one and the sensation that this isn't a part of me vanishes.
I want to see her smile.
I want to hear her whisper with it's soft high and soft lows in its quietened sincerity.
I want to paint her.
I want to write her.
I want to sing her.
I want to be hers.
Why did it have to be too late?

#review #nirma #poetry

The man who desperately craves love is just like any other man.
There's no particular adjective of shame or kindness to associate with him.
Love is natural. Love is attractive.
I desperately crave love.
Hers would be the best.
It is familiar.
It is known.
I know her smell.
I know the intonation of her voice.
I know how tight she grips.
I know what she likes.
I know when she was born.
I know what her voice sounds like echoing in the compartment of Delhi metro.
But as she used to say it's not like time won't make us forget it.
It's not like it was permanent.
New things will come along.
I tried to desperately not desperately crave love.
But I have now come to realise to crave love is what nature wants.
I could force myself to not crave it but it would be unnatural. As unnatural as a fish swimming upstream.
Nature takes it course and nature will always take it's course.
So idc.
I want to love.
I want to be loved.
And I want to ride the Delhi metro in love once more.

#review #nirma #poetry

EAVESDROPPING

 

The banal, midnight architecture of this

high-rise building suddenly enlivened by

 

the inspired sounds of crashing saucers

followed by the raised, accusative tone

 

of a man in rage, matched sharply by a

feminine voice, quivering & high-pitched,

 

in turn, the machine gun of their mouths

firing everywhere and nowhere, invisible

 

blood splattered across the living room

walls; after about ten minutes, a low hush

 

descends upon the floor, and one hears

only the occasional screech of an elevator

 

ferrying the late-night home comers up and

down the apartment, like a weaving loom

 

shuttle, even as the wounded couple curl up

to their separate beds, tossing and turning

 

uneasily, each unsure, whether to regard

all of this as a proof of love or its absence.

 #review

She had new red shoes and egyptian eyes;
and my heart.

She liked poems & chocolates & surprises;
and my smile.

She wore a blouse that matched her shoes and eyes;
and she . . . was married

#review

WORLD MAP

May night. Outside, the dark storm prowls
like a border patrol van.

I sleep uneasily, my eyes fall on the world
map, hung in the living room wall.

And lo !
All the continents have disappeared,
carried away like autumn leaves.

The oceans are now oceans of absence,
and this entire map - a map of ghostly emptiness.

Full of terror and dread inside, I drag
myself closer to that naked map, put my ears to it.

And straining hard, I heard again that deep
ancient humming filling a mother’s womb,

the same humming that holds together the oceans.

Geography blurred into pre-history blurred
into biology.

Just that humming, some sort of a starting point.

 
#review #fz #poetry

You push me up to explore the highs,
And drag me down to search the lows,
When I'm tired and think it's enough,
You come up again with so much more,

Why do I need the highs and lows,
To live and be noticed and to fit.
I don't wanna fly or don't wanna dig in,
I just want a little ground to sit.

I wanna gaze the blue sky and feel the green grass,
Instead of chasing them because you want,
I want my little life to be a sweet lullaby,
Not a dreadful dream that haunts.

The intermediate makes me happy,
I feel beautiful being average among all,
No hell no heaven is what I need,
I just need ground to have a good stroll.


#review
#poetry
#maans
@IWRITESOMTIMES

UNFAIR

 

hanging on the rusty
wall nail,

my sad wrinkled 
trousers 

wondering what kind
of an accident

it must've been
to leave

them feeling so
amputated

and me so soundly
asleep

 

 #review #fz #poetry

There are a few ancient lakes exist somewhere on earth, governed by a very specific and fearful shoal of fish. No one cared to clean the lakes for millennia, and the entire school of fish was taught to live inside those lakes and love the pond they belong to. If a fish somehow happened to clean the pond, despite all the resistance, it shall then be required to dig a tunnel that'd connect the pond with the river and eventually to the sea and then the ocean. Why? To maintain the sanctity of water and the life that dwells in it, a purpose more prominent than the lake itself. Water with no medium to flow through collects dirt, breeds disease causing insects, and eventually dries out with time.

Now, if the lakes are still considered "holistic" regardless of how filthy they have become over time, the creatures living inside the lakes will eventually become immune to it. Over time, no one will realize the toxicity they live in and that there's a whole different dimension to the quality of life way beyond those lakes.

If somehow managed to escape the pond, a few creatures unquestionably create a possibility for others to create a life full of freedom, like Nemo and Dory. But such creatures are endangered because the danger is always great for fish that directly challenge the status quo. Despite all the challenges, the age-old altruistic creation drives a few fish to do their bit to bring the much-needed transformation in their surroundings.

Creating a tunnel and connecting the lake to the river, the sea, and eventually to the oceans will open a whole different world to swim through and explore the vastness of consciousness and the life where consciousness resides.

#review #philosophy

#review #iwritesometimes #loverhyme

I met a girl who was like an open book,
Wanting to be read from the very start,
Someone who’d flick through her every page ,
And tie again the strings of her very heart,

So I peeked into her ribcage,
Holding my brittle pieces in my hands,
From the girl I once gave my heart to,
My soul’s revolt who could never understand

We were both left with empty spaces,
Within us our past self was no more,
And we let our souls feel each other's touch,
Like waves embracing the sea shore

She kept spilling out all her stories,
Until She melted from head to her toes,
And I stood ablaze before her eyes,
With no judgement or asking the cause

Too soon she ran out of paper and ink,
But her words found a home on the skin of mine,
As she inked down her final story,
With the love that poured down my spine

Together we learnt a lesson,
Of how sometimes things fall apart,
To make way for better things,
Which leaves a solid thud on your heart

So next time when the rain hits the ground,
Do not run reaching out for cover,
Just stand and smell the petrichor,
You'll find an umbrella held by a broken lover !

~ IWRITESOMETIMES | Maansi :)

I love you Maansi :)
@Maansiibajaj

Feelings

Feelings;sometimes mixed while sometimes crystal clear,
Sometimes genuine while sometimes made up,
But for u they were always there,
And will stay there forever.

Even if u rip off my heart,
Still it will feel for u,
And will continue to feel,
Till the very second it stops to beat.

The moment it stops to beat,
Just conclude that u scribbled on the pages of my life,
By the pen of your apathy,
With my blood in lieu of the ink.

In the way the worth of a book can't be determined,
Solely by its mere cover,
Similarly the amount of pain can't be determined,
By merely reading a poem composed by a broken lover.

#review #San #poetry

Tree of Spirits

There is a world far beyond our own,
Where there is a tree and not a soul.
Planted on the dark side of the horizon
It harbors the spirits lost in tragedies
Struggling to find a place in Heaven.
When the moon sneaks above the sky
Looking like a black orb without radiance,
Looms out of the dark clouds with a sneer,
Then the tree glows in vibrant colors
With smoky hues of red, green and blue
Forming a grim nimbus around it.
This grotesque spectacle is conjured
By the occult of witches and warlocks
For the souls try to take forms of the past
In a hellish way to liberate themselves
From the leash of branches entwined
Within the hideous trunk from which
Beautiful faces and rotten skulls and
Mortified eyes peer into the darkness
In a despairing search for a glimpse
Of something that breathes.

(c) Amit Herlekar
#freeverse #review

THE PAWPAW TREE
Outside my window
I see a burdened tree with fruity dreams.
With a billion places to go yet rooted in one spot.
Its pain, its stunted spine.
Bent by the weights that alleviate another's pains.
I see it's sweat, I see its tears.
Sticky white snakes gliding down it's sides.
I see the curse of abundance.
The tears of the blessed
Enveloped in the darkness of isolation.
Waiting for the one in the shade to offer a trade of place.
Hoping someone would understand.
Hoping one would care.
Outside my window, I see myself.
Maybe in another world.
But still,
I see a burdened tree with fruity dreams.
With a billion places to go yet rooted in one spot.

#MA #poetry #review

~MUM~

I held her hand, and she looked at me with awe
I would paint my handprints on every wall I'd know
Spring and autumn, around the changing seasons i grew
She kept me in her arms and all my dreams came true
Kissed my palm, before she sang me to sleep
They say "Nothing lasts forver", but her love was way too deep
I was all grown up, didn't need her help to cross the street,
my friends would all laugh,
as if holding her hand was my greatest defeat
I'd ask her to leave, if anywhere I was near my school,
She asked why, and I told her it doesn't look very cool,
I cared a lot about what "somebody" would say,
but it was her who taught me, that "somebody" was just me
I sat by her side, and our hands are of the same size,
but her knuckles are all pale, and it leaves me with a teary eye
Her fingers would all swell, as the winter air grew cold,
In all these years, she gave her hands too much to hold,
One day, i found those handprints i made when i was two
Wish I could go back, when her hands were the only thing i knew.

~HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY :)

#review
#poem
#mothersday

The Mysterious Voice

Lying under the scintillating Moon,
I heard dulcet tones from a distant,
An ethereal voice of a soprano,
Of what the stars being a testament.

The susurrus of the zephyr,
That conflated with the frequencies of the voice,
Adorning the beauty of the melody,
Leaving me with an ephemeral rejoice.

I proceeded to follow the origin,
Before it began to become evanescent,
And I froze for a second to what was overwhelming,
Being a victim of such an idyllic event.

Soon when the aurora arrived,
And the sunlight aurified the dark realm of the sky,
It was me who was still wondering,
To what was rather difficult to deny.

Was it a beautiful dream?
Or was it true?
As I sat there wondering,
Until the darkness further grew.

#review #poetry #San

"Poetry"

Poetry is not play of words
It is universe full of worlds
Each word has strong gravity
Power to spread the positivity

Poetry is sight for blinds
A wisdom in rare minds
Poetry is voice of dumbs
Excitement for all numbs

~ Realist Writes

#poem #realist #review