The Hapless Romantic

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Grab a pint or two of rum,
And right here won’t you come?
And I will tell you a tale,
By the end of which you will be pale.

In the times of peace,
Lived a hapless romantic,
And in time, he moved to Greece,
Searching for the curse called love.

Found a girl of age twenty,
He was overcome with glee.
With her he found love a plenty,
But in time found she was a he.

Shattered, betrayed, broken,
He drifted to another city,
Travelling with a love unspoken,
And what a pity, right beside the Mississippi.

His dreams turned to dust,
And his fiery love to ashes.
And after many years in the middle of August,
Received so many crashes.

He went away into seclusion,
Away from the cruel cold of December.
Lost himself into an otherworldly illusion,
And the girl from Greece all he could remember.

Stepping outside his prison after years,
He went to the land called Greece,
Facing so many forgotten fears,
He longed for his lost peace.

Desperate for love, even fake,
He soon found out she was happy and gay.
And for his life’s sake,
He flew to a land of frost, far far away.

His time soon came,
With his tale lost in time,
Came a stop to his pain,
To the long lost son of mine.


This has to be one of my most favourite poems ever! I loved writing it, and I love reading it again and again. This was long back in 2012, almost five years. Whew! It feels almost unbelievable to think that it’s been five years since this poem. It feels almost electrifying I guess. Five years. And it doesn’t even seem like that. It feels less, compacted, as though it was less than five years. A noticeable time period, I can place it, but i can’t place it as being so far apart. Five years!
Even after five years, this poem still has that factor. The one which makes me proud that I wrote it and still has that power to tell a story in such few words. Plus, the imagination involved, and the artistic sense, which  I feel I’ve lost a lot in recent times. 
Without a doubt I’m certain everyone will love this poem!
Happy Reading!

Their Highness, the Potato

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Oh all hail his highness!
Brown on the outside,
Skin coloured on the in.

Their highness, the Potato.

Oh great highness, I sing
Your praises and I revel in
Your greatness and usefulness.
I know not why people say
You are bad, and look down on you.
Call people your name for
When they sir comfortably on a couch.

Why! Oh why I ask the cruelty
They use you name such.
You are a wonder, a marvel!
You allow us to make fries of French,
Actually originating from Belgium.
You allow us to make drinks of
Alcohol and use in mashed form
With every food.
We can mix your form with
Cheese and beans and what not!
Even burnt, you are a tasty delight
Can we do that with turnip or pulses?
Or Rice or maize or bananas?

Oh tell me you cruel world,
In what crusade have you made
Our great highness so? He is good,
He is right, He is awesome!
If you truly want to hate someone,
Let it be Onions!
They make you cry!


 

The Man on the Bridge

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The sun had set,
The moon was rising,
And the stars were
Taking formations.

As I walked down the
Lonely road, with no
Light but the fireflies,
I looked away into the
Expanse beside me.

A green land full of roses,
Huge tress with huge trunks,
Full of patches of golden sweetness.

As I walked on,
I felt the warmth of
The air, telling me
Winter is still a long time.

I scurried along the road,
Trying not to fall and
Make it in time for a show.

The bridge, a fine piece of
Wood and craftsmanship,
My penultimate stretch,
The Bridge, where strange
People witness strange sightings.

A river ran beside it,
Illuminated by the fireflies,
A figure ran from the
Shore ,oblivious to the
Beauty beside him.

As he ran towards me,
I gazed at his face,
Old, wrinkled, horrified,
His lips cut in spots,
His nose deformed and
Eyes white and soulless.

“They are coming”, he screamed,
Jumping frantically, he hit
His head on the wood.
“I’m bleeding, I’m bleeding”,

As he moved around, I
Grappled him , whispering,
“They’re not coming,
Because they already have”,
And let go of him.
He moved a few paces,
Eyes full of disbelief, watery,
Red drops fell on the ground
As he jumped into the
Black beauty, ruining its
Perfection for eternity.

As the fireflies circled around,
I moved on, laughing,
Wondering if I will catch the
Show on time.


An old poem, inspired by “The Scream” on suggestion of a friend. Feels great reading this again after almost four years!
Hope everyone enjoys it as well!
Happy Reading!

Potatoes

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Potatoes.jpg

What do potatoes think of
When kept with other potatoes?
What do they keep on doing
When they are there over there
kept silently?
What secrets do they hide
In the dusty recesses of their mind?
Do they dream,
About being a bowling ball one day day?
Or to be used as makeshift grenades?
Or to drink Red-Bull,
Get wiiings
And fly away?
Do they plan on coming to life,
And launch a Potato Revolution?
Enslaving humans,
And then eating them
Just like the humans ate them once.
Wouldn’t it be ironic,
\That when a potato is thinking about its future
And is cut three seconds later.
But in the end,
When everything is said and done,
What are those little brown awkward shaped things thinking of?


My most existentially fraught poems and works(That’s a joke XD). Back in 2012, I used to be obsessed with potatoes. I still am, but I think of them less, now that  I resemble one less  (Again, a joke. I make a lot of lame jokes. They’re a part of me XD). I love this poem. It reminds me of a time when I used to write just for the heck of it, all the time. I do too now, but at times I go for more complex and more professional, rather than so kiddish. But here’s hoping you all love this!
Happy Reading everybody!

 

Betrayal

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The Last Supper.jpg

The table was placed,
The feast was set,
And the people had gathered.
Thirteen of them,
Sitting on one side of the table.
Gathered around the Holy One.
Jesus,
Sitting for the last time with his disciples,
Disciples whom he had trusted with his teachings.
Disciples whom everyone believed to be pure,
Did not know of the one
Who was not so pure.
One who was more ambitious,
One who expected more from life than teachings,
One who traded honor for greed,
One who traded his master’s life for his own selfish needs.
The one who betrayed Jesus.
Jesus, calmly sitting in the middle,
Making the shocking revelation
That he was to be betrayed by one of his own,
Own of his disciples.
Disciples whom everyone trusted fully,
Disciples who respected Jesus,
Were all shocked and appalled.
Except one,
One who had made the decision,
One who was lost.
Jesus, accepting his destiny,
His future,
Had no sign of fear.
For,
What did he have to fear?
Nothing,
Because death is inevitable.
But what must hurt,
Is to be betrayed.
And the traitor, Judas Iscariot,
Sitting amongst them,
Not showing a sign of regret or remorse.
His head still held high,
Not ashamed of his bidding.
If a person this trusted,
Can betray his master,
Then can be trusted?
In a world
Where,
One man’s greed takes precedence over his pride,
One man’s selfishness takes precedence over everything else,
Where money holds the utmost importance.
Who de we trust?,
When even our own shadow leaves us alone in the darkness.
The Ultimate Betrayal,
Was not between Cain and Abel,
The two Brothers of Eden,
Who shared the same blood,
But was between Jesus and Iscariot,
The two who shared a bond,
A bond stronger than that of blood,
A bond so strong,
Yet so weak,
To be severed by thirty pieces of silver.


One of my earliest poems ever! The first poem I ever wrote for a competition and recited it, and I came last in that competition. XD BEST COMPETITION EVER!!! No really. While it did put me in writer’s block, I realised more about the intricacies of what makes a poem good. Also, even though I lost bad, it was still praised by many teachers and friends alike, telling that while I came sixth(the last position), I did a fantastic job at it. And to me, that’s all that counts!

Untitled

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Here’s to the second poem, written a week after US and sort of like an upgraded form. Regard it as one my my most weird yet inspired work of my 2 years of writing!!

I was falling
Into the infinite below
Or was it the depths of
My own evil,
I do not know.

My hand broke my fall,
It pained,
The same hand
Which inflicted on you so much pain.
The path ahead of me
Was dark.
Was it the darkness
In my heart it signified,
Or was it the simple
Absence of light,
I do not know.

This is the same heart
Which coaxed me to give you
So much pain
I stood where I fell,
Looking at my few options,
Thinking about them
With my mind.

The same mind which
Planned the pain
I gave you.
Helplessness dawned over me,
Showing me that the
Only way is forward,
My only future was to
Walk through.

I walked and walked,
Not knowing my way,
Not certain of my goal,
But held on to the last straw of hope,
That it would lead me to you.

A cold breeze swept
Through the path.
Strange voices calling
Out to me,
Troubling me,
The same way I did to you.
The surroundings became
Ghastly,
Did it signify my evil deeds,
Or signal the oncoming of the devil
To take me away?
I do now know.

Even with all the
Pain I inflicted on you,
You never left me,
Never gave up,
Always re-iterating,
How great our friendship
Is.

Looking back now,
I could only shudder
At all my past actions.
But all I could do
Was walk ahead.
I was scared,
Not at the
Uncertainty of my future,
But at the prospect
That I’ll never
Meet you again.

The sound of my own
Footsteps haunted me,
Sending a very human
Chill up my spine,
Which I’m sure you’ve felt,
So many times.

Your silhouette
Only reflected your purity,
Always so quiet, so calm
So composed,
Always nurturing what you had.
You were always blooming
Under the sun,
Always soaring high
Into the infinite,
Your shadow dancing on the ground.
I do not know what I was
All this time,
But certain I was
The one causing you pain.

You were the embodiment
Of light,
Spreading hope and joy
Where ever you went,
Extinguishing darkness,
Replacing it with light.
If only,
My voice could reach
back through to the past,
I would tell you
How much I miss you.

If only
You could give me
A sign that I would
Meet you again,
Show me that path,
I would walk on spikes,
Run through fire,
Carve a path through hell,
Give up my life,
If only you would give me
A sign.

My emotions took over me,
And tears trickled down my cheeks.
Why this happened
I do not know.

As I continued forward,
Wondering whether we
Will meet again or
Not.
The breeze,
Still as strong.

Maybe I’m dreaming,
But I could see
Ten millions of small lights,
Fireflies,
Flying all around,
Extinguishing the darkness,
Replacing it with light.
Is it you my friend,
Or am I dreaming?
I do not know’

‘And the fireflies came
Closer to him,
Re-arranging themselves into
A figure he longed for
So much.
His smile grew larger,
Brightening up his face.
Their hands reached out once more,meeting,
And eventually he collapsed,
Knowing that he had reaches
Paradise.
Was all this that happened real
Or an illusion?
All taking place in his mind,
he does not know
And neither do I’ .

US

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Bidding adieu to one of the most creative, weird, retarded, psychotic, studious year of all times. So , to the final two posts of the year and the two most amazing poems of the year!!

“There is today,
And then again
There was that day.
That day,
So many years ago,
When our souls met,
For the first time,
Our eyes catching a glimpse
Of each other.
You saw me,
And I saw you.
I still remember
Your face,
It was a happy face.
You wore such a big smile.
Your face was shining,
Reflecting light from the sun.
Your eyes,
Blue in colour,
Reflected the purity of your soul.
Your expressions,
So blank,
Yet conveyed so much.
This is how your face was
When we met,
For the first time.

And mine,
I don’t even remember it,
And I want to hope
That you do.
It’s as they say,
When two souls meet,
Something is born.
Since then,
We have done so much,
That now in my current state
Is too much of a chore to remember.

We were like
Brothers,
At times like
The best of friends
At times like rivals.
And then that one time,
When I was out for your blood
When we both loved the same beauty.
Even though we were
So much,
I still don’t know what was born,
What we were,
I still don’t know what
Ended us,
Was it you’re your untimely death
Or was it my arrogance?
You were like the sun,
And I was the moon.
I relied on you for
My ray of light,
My ray of hope.
You were like the hawk,
Soaring in the infinite,
Whose shadow moved around
On the ground,
While I was the snake,
Envious of being in your shadow,
So envious,
That I never realized what I had,
What I’ve now lost.
You were like the blooming
Tree in the sun and
I was like the roots
Branching out underground.
You lived because you loved it,
Enjoyed it,
You lived to win,
And I,
I lived to defeat you.
Looking back now,
What did my existence mean
When you left me
What was I without you?
When it was you who defined me,
I was like the moon without the sun,
Roots without a live tree,
A pair with just one object,
A life without a definite meaning,
A life without existence.
I thank fate
For making us meet.
That was the greatest gift.
And if you’re up there,
Listening to what I’m blabbering,
I want you to know,
I wish that one day,
Our souls meet in the afterlife,
To know finally know what we are,
To know what was born,
To be defined once again,
To exist once again.”
“When he stopped,
He became light.
He looked up into the night sky,
Searching or the star
Which contained his friend’s soul.
Smiling for the first time
When he searched for him.
And all I could do
Was smile back.”