Comfortable Silence

Where human bonds run so deep,
To have withstood the test of attrition – time and time again;

That discord and harmony could co-exist peacefully,
When substantive conversations dissolve pretense and insecurity,
That neither has the need to coddle the other emotionally,
Where one is at ease with the other as with oneself –

Is when, the uttered word becomes redundant
And shared silence becomes comfortable.

Related Posts: Ramblings on a word – Fantastic,   Joy Ride

Freedom and Joy

Do what makes your soul shine
Image by Shelly Paul

Through the labyrinths of a rigid society,
Gropes for freedom –
A shackled mind.

Probing the myriad depths of the universe
Is an unfeeling heart –
In a quest for joy.

Alas! we know not
To search within ourselves.

To look at the rendition of life,
Not heed the blemish,
But to rejoice in its blessings, is mirth itself.

To unshackle the mind from prejudice and bias,
Rise above narrow divisions,
Is what freedom is all about.

Driving through a Winter Storm

Winter's wonderland

Swirling flakes fall from above,
Dancing around stoic street lamps – giggling, teasing
As they fall, carpeting the earth.

Cotton tufts swell from below,
Gets caught in the headlight,
Makes a beeline to the windshield – melts away.

Dancing swirls multiply,
Fills the air, obscuring vision.
Moving pods slow down, blinks intermittently;

Howling winds gather the dancing dots
Slaps it unevenly on all creation,
Blanketing everything white. Continue reading “Driving through a Winter Storm”

Weary Traveler

Welcome home, weary traveler

Unburden yourself;
Lay down the heavy trappings,
Wash off the weariness.

For you have given too much;
Entrenched in the lives of strangers
Trying to ease their drudgery
With your benevolence.

So,
Ensconce in the warmth of your abode,
Take comfort from the cocoon of sleep,
Rejuvenate as you breathe the first crisp air of autumn.

Related Posts

Sea Legs                             The Bird with A View                      A Day at the Beach

Joy Ride

bundImage by Shelly Paul

Wind all over me –
Beating my face, slapping my hands,
Whistling in the ears,
Rushing to the mind –
Scattering away thought streams,
As I ride the pillion with my man.

The motorcycle growls, roars,
Road unfurls endlessly,
Green grass blur seamlessly,
Blue umbrella skies, cloud tufts, pale moon awaits.

Through the tree canopies of late spring,
Into the ever-changing lines of the horizon,
I ride the pillion with my man,
Without a care – tranquil, meditative.

Related Posts: Ramblings on a word – Fantastic,   Comfortable Silence

Relative Time

When life is burgeoning,
World feels like spring
Moments freeze into memories sweet.

When the heart gets broken
Engulfed by loneliness,
Seconds crawl at snail’s pace.

In triumph and success
When the world lauds,
Time stands still in breathless awe.

When dreams shatter
Crumbles into despair,
Listless days stretch into timeless void.

Clocks tick with mathematical precision
Life’s itself is relative time.

Modern Poetry

Clipped phrases strung together –
Butchered images styled to look like a collage

Smattering of impressive words throughout –
Thanks to the thesaurus

Disparate attempts to emulate
Great thinkers and poets

It seems so lofty,
So intellectually superior

What it really is –
A sad imitation of a great art,
Art by an untalented artist

Incomplete thought fragments
Strung together unimaginatively
With neither heart nor mind

This is the make-up of modern poetry –
Muddled, borrowed creativity.

Queen Of Tragedies

I am the Queen of Tragedies,
Henceforth I declare:

I have been wronged at every turn in my life
Yet, I never rendered any harm to a single soul.
I am incapable of sins and wrongs
Anyone who thinks otherwise is a sinner.

I shall judge the world around me,
Punish anyone who disagrees with me,
Absolve them —
When,
From their hearts they will acknowledge my Purity. Continue reading “Queen Of Tragedies”