Poetry

Words

 

Dazzled by the beauty,

they are failed by the words.

Recovering and in pursuit,

they keep their feelings veiled by the words.

Romance they indulge in,

but are curtailed by the words.

Entranced in love,

they forget the roses but are bailed by the words.

Instead of happily ever after at the end,

they listen to the silence of the words.

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Poetry

Path to redemption

As the jaded emotions stir
letting out wisps of fantasy
vignettes from the past look glorious
fading vistas arouse feelings queer
entrancing thoughts make him trail
only to be nudged forward
waking him up with a familiar fear
tired eyes reluctantly open to find
multitudes marching on for a cause unknown
tremulous with highly strung octave.

Shackled with pervasive conceit
straggling at the desultory march
road to perdition seems long for his aged feet
a night of reckoning questions the
choices made, the resorted weakness
and the accompanying arrogance
a prophylactic catharsis
and the concluding dance.

How does he promise allegiance,
an unquestionable faith
with the doubts lurking in
every nook, every corner of the infinite self
an incomprehensible world
with its deceit, caustic and relentless wit
armed with nothing but an acquired intellect
it’s a farce to commit eternal love
when he doesn’t remember or even surmise
everything that happened in his life
for he was rational but never so wise.

The fickle abandon with flair
heretic if you tame the restive faith
the egotist seeks happiness within
romantic if you love without reason
judged and branded for living the sins
midway in the protest, he stops short
and finds his soul dance and rejoice.

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Fun, Poetry

Poetryman or better a woman

Men need food, drink, shelter and internet to live,
but they need the myths and mythology to be men.
The god though is abstract and the holy books
are filled with instructive stories instead of heroes,
with the stars losing their sheen in the movies,
big names failing to make as much as their pay,
the world needed heroes who were more than human.

Enters marvel, making even the reluctant become a fan,
as its teams put the nordic and greek god-makers to shame
and when they ran out of ideas included the gods to the game.
What we have now is more superheroes than men,
myths to choose from alphabetic lists that goes over pages
and if not sure you may go for the never ending avengers.

Not trying to be terrible here, I am anything but sincere.
This’s the best I come up with, read my posts if you care,
my friends and followers do, going through this rhyming pain.
Poetry is the damsel in distress, all over wordpress,
what we need is a poetryman or better a capered woman,
a superhero to save it from assaults in the name of prompts.

This post was written as part of the prestigious
The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest

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Poetry

Evolution of the artist

guided by an innate urge to please
equipped with senses exhorting doubts
in the cautious strokes of earnest endeavour
with measured traces striving for perfection
he mirrors the faces conniving with reflection,
unaware of the beautiful yet incongruous nature.

a stickler for structure, enamoured by wisdom
of saints, philosophers and the morbid poets
craft acquired over languid classes
adheres to the norms edified by masses
the cultivated symmetry is a far cry,
wasted on the serene yet erratic nature.

recurrent inspiration and elusive metaphors
laid astray by well articulated arrogance
cruises to far away hills undertaken with fanfares
turquoise sky reverberating on tranquil waters
make him search for witless romance in scrappy affairs,
as he attempts to embellish a graceful yet flawed nature.

the artist is born in affliction not by choice
jerked out of his space by circumstances tragic
for it’s only a devastated soul that transpires surreal magic
the flaws, fractured norms, his foibles now in sight
crooked rivers, errant petals, skewed trees and such once critiqued,
within himself now he sees as he takes the transcendental flight.

Next: Revelation of the artist

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Poetry

Maverick in the infernal tavern

pirouetting silhouettes

chiding the guides

minstrels sing spells

mutilating masses

in mesmerizing lights.

phallic philosophers

partaking paradoxes

belch benedictions

on genuflected generations.

a body nondescript

or a tavern lost in crypt

their netherly wine

tastes mildly of

a heavenly brine

sipping which the heretics

disdain mystics, religion

and such populist designs.

incarcerated souls fight

the reverberating

incantations galore

cringing, craving love

and a freedom promised

beyond the pearly door.

lacerated languid lovers

levitate on licentious lust

making agonizing agnostics

squirm as their prized

convictions go bust.

anguished metaphors

pilfer the reluctant poets

while paraphrasing scribes

pay the unrequited debts.

marveling at such

metaphysical manifestations

the maverick stops writing

this treatise of vice

imbibes the poison amidst guffaws,

and rolls another dice.

 

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