Category: Poetry


Seasons

seasons

With the last light of Autumn,
When the withering leaves the rhythm,
He who wrote so seldom,
Drowned now in his own kingdom.

With the first snow of Winter,
When the howling wolves gather,
She who once rode the panther,
Flew away before the last lead wither.

With the scorching heat of Summer,
When all of forest cries of water,
He who waited with all hope in quiver,
Remembered the last December.

With the rains of sweet Monsoon,
When they both once danced in lagoon,
She who came to replaced his favourite cartoon,
Now miles apart celebrated with another new moon.

 

 

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The 4th of December

run run run

run run run


Woke up early morning,
thought I heard my alarm ringing,
excitement it was that’s singing,
only one song in my head pinging.

Had a few biscuit bites,
packed away my stuff as per my might,
locked away the doors and windows tight,
walked to the bus stop in the morning light.

Waited for the bus while making plans of kol,
Called the cab when that seemed off the poll,
Bangalore traffic took on quite a toll,
Reached the airport with minutes to goal.

The counter attendant denied the boarding,
Had the convince her with my own risk taking,
Had to convince the queue that my flight was leaving,
Made it in flight only to realise how good I’m at running.

Hunger and thirst almost took my life,
In-front of me was only the Business Times,
Got stuck in between two sleeping girls,
Jeffery Archer do comes to the rescue of all of us.

Found taxi went on a two day strike,
Buses were slow and time was flying like a kite,
Reached to meet the bday girl riding the tide,
Special lunch with food and the company was a delight.

Went strolling with my best friend in EcoPark,
Such peace fell upon us with the fall of the dark,
Alas, had to leave cause of the train to embark,
But the day had made it’s unfathomable mark.

The last ride of the day slowly chatted on,
Asked the cabbie to do me a favour and step on,
Ran across the station to the platform and jumped on,
Almost missed yet again as I ran on.

 — The invincible runner

Charlotte Cuevas

You were dying when you found me-
how’d you even find me?
You were dying when I bought that leather jacket.

You knew you were searching,
you warned me yourself,
came shopping for me when I was shopping, too.

What could I have done to heal you?
Did you think I’d had that jacket my whole life?

I had barely clipped the price tag off
when you wandered in and took me for
somebody who could love you back to life.

By now I guess you figured how to resurrect yourself-
I don’t even have that jacket anymore-
but the closet, the closet remembers the stench
of the dying you brought with you.

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The Path

The Path

The Path

I see the path that lies in front of me,

Messed up and left out you seem to be,
Intimidating everyone goes by singing,
Something about you just is amusing,
Subtle and quick is such the path of life.

You came over to watch beside me,
Ought to be the one I yelled out to thee,
Unintentionally hurt you or so it you seem,

Broken and rejected you leave me to scream,
Another day passes by and I still linger,
Drenched and lonely the path I still monitor.

In the midst of world crossing over,
Tired and mystified some fell under.

Hope diminishing I’m still the same kid,
Underwhelmed your change was rapid
Relentlessly I still stood as the light grew dark,
Tedious it was but fun it used to be I recollect,
Something changed and it wasn’t me that left.

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