Been So Long

Been so long since we met,
poetry, my dear friend. 
Been so long since we met. 

Been so long since my fingers traced paths on a keyboard, 
pouring my thoughts out, 
storing them in an abstract medium. 
Been so long since that happened. 

Did you miss me, my dear friend? 
Did you miss turning up
at the quiet corners of my mind
and holding my hand understandingly? 

I didn't miss you, my dear friend. 
I didn't miss you a bit. 

Now, don't think I'm ungrateful, 
my dear friend. 
I'm far from it; 
you'll soon see for yourself. 

There's a reason we were closer, dear friend. 
You visited often to bridge the gap 
between me and my then muse. 
You visited often to numb the pain, 
to soothe my heart, and heal my wounds. 

You, my friend, sprang from my heart
to let my muses know they were admired. 
You, my friend, didn't feel like it 
when destiny had smiled and the universe conspired. 

The nightingale sings, my dear friend, 
when it yearns for a heart that sits afar. 
Singing with hope is all it can do.

Is it fair to expect a song, my friend, 
when another nightingale sings the same tune 
and captures the heart with ease? 

I didn't miss you, dear friend,
for I haven't been singing from afar. 
I didn't find the need to sing, dear friend,
for I've been busy loving.

Torchbearer

Agony, shame,
disgust mixed with contempt,
an intense hatred towards the society
born out of love for mankind.
Decay of civilization,
dormancy of the thinking faculty.

The door of knowledge is wide open
yet we bother not to enter the realm of intellect.
Is an ignorant man even aware of his ignorance?
Nay. Sad truth.

Neither a respect for knowledge
nor the urge to realize one's self-esteem.
Blissfully ignorant
with misplaced priorities.

What is it?
The fear of truth
in hearts brimming with inferiority complex.

The torchbearer's love for his brethren
makes him want to spread his light.
He's the carrier of
an intense light
that initially blinds the viewer
and later shows the avenues of truth and beauty.

An unwelcome intrusion he is
amidst his own brothers.
They pelt stones at him
and ignore his light,
clinging to their darkness and ignorance.

Torchbearers never cease their endeavours.
Torchbearers bask in the glorious light of truth.
They tirelessly wander around, trying to
enlighten the dark recesses of man's mind,
or immolate themselves with the very torch they carry.
The light of truth and beauty
never scalds the mind.

A torchbearer's decision to stop spreading his light -
a step backward in man's attempt to achieve greatness.

Decay of civilization.

Company of Creation

When all my muses walk away from me
without even bidding farewell,
when worries turn into sorrow
and later into depression,
when the heart wants to cry in agony,
shedding tears and trying to reach out to someone,
in desperation,
when the heart wages a war against the mind,
when thought just does not stop peeping into my being,
when I realize the only true company
I have in the world is myself
and let solitude embrace me,
I wish you be there on my side,
Oh! Poetry.
beautiful lady made of stringed syllables.
Choose not to abandon me
like my muses did.
Help me find
solace from my sorrow.
Kick logic and rationality from the mind
and inject the slow poison of unparalleled beauty.

You are beautiful yourself.
A smiling child's innocent countenance,
a soothing music I'd gladly drown into,
a sudden burst of colours
splashing in all directions -
the type of beauty I'd love to be killed by.

Be with me and take me high.
Be with me till I die.
Be with me and I will not cry.

And That's How It Began....

No fear or apprehension occupied me
When I showed her what I wrote.
Only my poem she could see
In that little note.

The rhyme was bad; the lines were long
But still she said nothing.
I gave it a tune; I made it a song.
The same she asked me to sing.

I stood on-stage with my best friend.
We sang that childish rhyme.
Thus came into being a novel trend
That you enjoy many a time.

A furious stare or silent scorn
Would have instantly turned me off.
The poet in me would have never been born
Had there been a mocking laugh.

That's how I began my poetic quest,
With her motivation and support.
This passion made a girl realize her zest
For the words she can't write in a report.

The Heart of a Poet

A poet is deadly when he's in his element.
Deadlier when he's in love, and
Deadliest when he's in sorrow.
His soul truly does reside in his heart.
A delicate heart it is.

He derives joy from emotions,
Not from reason.
His love for anything is great.
Isn't that what made him a poet?

'Test'ing Times

Awakened by the cuckoo's call,
Along with the early rays of the Oriental sun.
I gazed at my house' wall,
Reminiscing yesterday's awesome fun.

The sleepy trees guarding the roads of KK Nagar,
Came for a brief moment to my view.
Their great height and the mild shower,
Can be enjoyed only by a few.

I then saw a cute, snow white puppy,
On my way to the grocery shop.
It did look extremely happy,
And probably nothing will ever make it stop.

Now I'm forced to write an exam,
In order to 'secure' my future;
While I can invest this time,
Writing poems about Mother Nature.

Acrostics

An acrostic is a poem or other writing in an alphabetic script, in which the first letter, syllable or word of each line, paragraph or other recurring feature in the text spells out another message.

For example:
Wisdom systemized in a complex net
Information metropolis is set
Knowledge super way spins in liberty
I learn many things out of rafferty
People, events, places, things; organized
Exposed, refined, edited, scrutinized
Deleted, published; found truth, accepted
Information errors intercepted
An ingenuity unexcepted! (Courtesy: Wikipedia)

The poems: Cheer personified, Long live the brother hood, Sweet addictive poison, Tribute to the tall one, An ode to the Bengal Tiger(refer to blog)are all acrostic poems. I fell in love with this style of poetry and hence I adopted it. Commments are always welcome