Rewind

The journeyman says - life brings you back to your mistakes, 
Fears and forgotten roads are all trodden again. 
Life is what you make it out to be. Silly, still, and unamusing.
Interesting is the conflict of your age-old self with the time immemorial. 

On a windy morning - I hear the heart mourning, 
Wailing in its boxed cage, thumping, clawing, and fading away, 
To be heard as the voice of reason while it suffocates, 
It's the end of another life that had no right living. 

The extraordinaire dreams die of the cliche, 
Shoot for the stars is a fabled death when the world torches itself. 
All the mistakes of others and you're just a life repeat, 
In life, we live the mistakes of the ones that could never see. 
Beyond the journey of their short quests and achievements of fate.
I'm just another dot in the voided space - flapping my clipped wings. 

Silent echoes

The evening's hungover, it lingers its stay...

Nothing's welcome, at least not anywhere I stay.

My thoughts are lackadaisical, the world's - abysmal!

I like the fabled fables of a distant faraway land,

Of a man's courage and the women who were indeed brave.

Of fearless, silly flirts and their battle with death,

Of a shipwreck and the tides that spewed just one to say its tale.

It is in a messenger's nepotism that I see the world,

While my windows just carry the scent of willows and the air of heroes.

The attic is damp and the bottles are now free at last,

To ferry my queries to a Viking on his quest...

Dear Sire... can you swoosh your triumph in this bottle of mine?

So that I will drink it on a fateful night fighting the demons in my head?

'Ruse of falling stars'

What does the heart want?
Is it the hurt of a reach lost?
A world anew or the fact that it was long lost?
The past haunts, runs amok like frost giants,
In this world of my fragmented past,
It is a light and I became to be the match burnt out.

If a lantern wobbled its flame, would my gush blow it out?
Would my treason reason with me tonight instead?
The moments that once lived and lasted;
Would the heart reignite it back to life again?
With a genie’s touch, I became the morbid lost years,
Dark was the night always, but my fears morphed with the sunrays!

A dystopia or a world weaved in its ripples?
A peep, a chapter or the reflections marauding a whiskey’s paint?
The things that it wanted are now poison in my veins.
A running gauntlet, an executioner’s chopping block,
the noose of a hangman or in the sleep of a less tired,
would the reels play it slow for once? Say, freeze me a frame?

I wear a sweater knit of memory lapses,
would the winds of change be for once kind instead?
Million smiles, all gets buried when the heart sees its epithet,
“Here lies a kindle hearted who never knew what his heart wanted”

Shadows and thieves

Innuendo I - a fragment, the past helped build,

Coming of age and the boyish charm I was of frisked,

Beats that I now listen to and the songs I left behind...

Is it good, touch of a life that feels like it has been?

A bag slinged, a smile on and the shoes like they have run,

The roads I see, still remains. Day after day and I look away.

Breaking in and shaping up, someday, I will grow a smirk,

Your chalice would touch my cup. Drinks will spill and I would be a puff.

Tiptoes in the dark, the bitter fragments of the past,

A thief sneaks in. His marauding gaze seeks the golden gleam.

There is music in his pockets and dance in his footsteps.

He is shrouded in smoke, jiggered like I was on pills.

Black as in stark, confident with each hours of the dark...

On the bed, with a horse shoe smile, I lie in comatose & he sees:

In the years that I have seen, I have been a smile, a tale unseen…

Will you do nothing if I was a current and the river took me away?

If the reach was high, would you pull me in or should I lean?

The clinks of gold & that priceless smile,..

What was once the world for me, lies in the attic.

Beneath the dust and for the things that escaped the rust,

Tonight, I am visited by the happy mid-nighter!! 

Fish & a bait'

It’s early in the morning; gentle is the summer’s breeze,

The talks are rife of the night in these corners of the sultry streets,

Raspy of what the jarred windows and their sights have seen…  

Missing notably today’s the customary decadence of greetings,

No longer muffled, devoid of any care, gone seems brusque in their banter.

The cruising winds carry the gongs of an early hour near its beginning,

And the light’s advent brings the sentiments on the green.

“It’s different today, unlike any morning I’ve ever seen.”

The trees are wary & a blanket of flowers that have seen their sheen..

Fresh are the memories, of the world, of the lived and of my tale,

The blades are blunt, when today the eulogies are being sung.

I know this is ruse, my elicit for their response…

But if they’d know of my wait, they’d be celebrating instead!

Carousing of pain which was mine, marooned where thoughts & was its life,

…did they see me reaching for tides, arms leveled and thoughts sly?

In their requiem, on how bereft went my days..no more, not after today!!

Unfazed, I join. Silly, in their jargons, they forget, “This silence is mine!” 

'Recall'

There were times, saddled, riddled and when I was brittle,
There will be days, when the smiles would sink,
In nights when the dreams would be cursed with a nightmare’s touch
In playing of the sheep, when I would revere a wolf’s touch.

In the known of my being, I will never be fine.

It has been long, distant and distances have been borne,
The curve of green, the wearing off a smile too keen,
In still longing of being heard, I wait..like I have forever
It’s abysmal how a touch can be both a bait and fever!

If I could catch a second and be longed as a visitor,
Wait would be over and the wilt of seeing would be sober.
I have seen the future, braiding through the fragments of past,
But I hold in my cup, the gulp that has long been over!

If I could still claim a stake and if time was generous instead…

Would the dugout be happy or would the reaper be instead kind?
There will be nights, when the tussles would be less,
There are days when the smiles feel like they praise,
But the crater is now deep, the soiled hands – they’re tired.

Here and there, I am caught in a temple of listless…
When missteps pace the treads and place reeks of being haunted!

Happy B’day o’ Storyteller!

The palms are nested and so are my sights,

The music hums and loses its reverberates..

It’s been days, months that I’ve known this tree’s shade,

The raindrops have a glaze now while the sun has a face..

Will you play, will you stay? If only you behaved!

I promise and you trust. Wildering wild and still sober.

We are kids with weaknesses each-

Often sitting and still making a world better.

The stories are chartered and painted are its mayhem,

The fool gets a watch, the day doors wore a look.

I wind the springs of my soul, turn the clock and open a door..

Lead my sights a padding graze, 

And there you are..amidst the setting sun,

In the runs of my gaze, carefree they traipse..

In my reach for the stars, wonder where we met?

Music to ears, your smiles and my banter.

Lonely as trees in summers, your hugs and me being the hugger!

In the bashes of your sights, the glimpses I took…

Are or aren’t you regal a real? An enchantress that has me hooked?

In misses of a missus, a silent smile you were to crook.

In wilted few tales, a story that would sweep radars off the hook

It was easy, the wait. Hard were the seconds they took.!

Insipid a crown and the princess she was to this tinsel town anew,

Riches were tattered, rags were split, all lost to a man & his kind,

The silent your smile, lost your guile..& I was brood!

Then in wonders of synchrony, the breaths you took..

The doors wore a look, hands pocketed their talk and spooked!