Humdrum Numb

In a world of extremeties,

I seem to be stuck in the middle.

I do not comprehend,

The yin or the yang,

When the heart, is left oblivious.

Moderation, has been an adventure,

Success, a distant season,

Excellence, an unattainable past,

Worthiness, lost in a crowd.

A mundane existence seems just that,

The paltry accounts even more so,

The spirit seems lost, trampled,

With the seemingly pointless strive, thrive?

Maybe Adam and Eve stole,

All the debuting thunder,

While Jane and Joe were left wondering,

If their existence was only to glorify,

The extremities and burden themselves,

With the painstaking eternal return.

Run

I feel like someone,

Has been pulling my heartstrings lately,

It seems like the agony,

Of fire, and restiveness,

It seems like the relief,

Of ice, and content,

It seems like the fluttering,

Of butterflies and raven locks,

It seems like the lull,

Before a storm, a heartbreak,

It seems like the happiness,

That I may never have, but desire,

I looked inside, raged with fury;

It was the wretched Amor.

Alone and contented, I was no more.

 

Creation

Why does it need catalysts?
It emanates from the soul,
Like the anger of a volcano,
Like the lump in your throat,
Like the tears that transcend,
the smile that extends,
beyond the sphere of expectation.
It gushes out before you know it,
Like love at first sight,
Like the art which caught unawares,
Like the words of regret,
Like the sand in an hourglass,
Like the moments of happiness,
Like the poetry, that emerges,
from within. From the beyond.

Comfort

I look into the mirror,
And I see a person, very different,
from who I thought she was.
I see a person, who has different aspirations,
dreams, ideas, perceptions, sensitivities.
I looked her in the eye, confronted her,
Asked her, what the reason was,
for the metamorphosis. The revelation.
Do people change so much,
that they can't recognize themselves?
That the mirror seems deceitful to them?
That they look at their past,
and delve into a different reality,
a better life, the hope for a future.
Why is it that I could never imagine,
turning into this person I am now,
being comfortable in this skin,
that was once a distant.
The new me seems insubstantial, to some,
But remains real, to me.
I have learnt to love and cherish this being,
no matter what, no matter how.
I am fortunate to be in this body,
for  now, and for always.

Simplicity of Salt and Pepper

I wish,
My grandfather's old album,
My grandmother's glorious youth,
My crisp white school shirt,
The paradisaical white dove of peace,
would get some character,
That it would get some colour.
I wonder,
If I shook the salt and pepper shakers,
hard enough,they would turn blue.

If I stared at the sky long enough,

it would turn orange.

If I danced with inimitable joy,

my movements would get fluorescent special effects.

If I cried with enough passion,

my tears would colour my life.
If I smiled with enough splendour,
it would reflect the rainbow.

I chose the colour blue for my blog because I think it represents the sea.It's limitlessness and the colour that it possesses within it's surface.

http://www.hp.com/in/laserjet

Pooh Paradox

Maybe we weren't created,
by the same God.
Maybe there aren't remonstrances,
for the unequal casting,
of the so-called play,
that we call life.
Maybe the creator, in his swings,
was being sadistic.
He wanted a potpourri,
but I do not want a dried flower.
I may have to live in the garden,
but I leave alone nonetheless.Burdenless.
Take that away from me,you can't.
He can't.
She can't.
It can't.

Looks?

A tall,dark,handsome stranger,
I do not care for the banality,
I need something tangier,
Not a cliché, or a liability.
I need depth, not judgement,
Diving ,rather than just peeking,
I live life, not an enactment,
I can do with anything,but mocking.
Inner beauty can be seen,
You need to come close enough,
To be able to notice the sheen.
To have skin like the pearls,
Hair like the Maenads,
Eyes like limpid pools
a girl can lie.
But to have a heart of gold,

I would gladly die.