For want of a few words

Disclaimer:If you are looking at reading something worthwhile,then believe me you are staring at the wrong post..And it is never too late to go back and start anew.Nevertheless, the choice is totally upto you, could give it a try if you want to:p

So here we go,

Some days you are inspired to write, some other days, you want to write but you lack a muse.Most days,the daily prompts serves while other days,not so much.This is one of these days.After writing, rewriting,editing so many potential posts, I finally scored out whatever I had started to write. In my search for inspiration,I noticed that I had an avid(yes, I had to put it somewhere:D) interest in staring at things, waiting for some lines to dawn on me. In the course of it, I penned another poem (if I might call it that) which I will save for another day.After all,one needs to be sane. So yes, today technically, I will be publishing a post depite my strong conviction otherwise. Je pense que le temps will make things right..Well, Let’s leave time to decide that,shall we?:p 


The planetary motion 

A journey of precision.

The elliptical orbits

Verging on utmost symbiosis.

Azure skies

Alongside the calm breeze.

Grassy expanse

Amidst the arboreal growths.

Floral rainbows

With accordant overtones.

The feral docility

Of the fauna around.

Microcosmic Harmony

In the atoms seen.

A theme of homeostasis

Save for one anomaly.

Chaos, destruction, Savagery.


In self-destruction mode.

An oxymoron in a sea of similitudes.

A wait for a better tomorrow

Of sunshines and smiles

Of peace and joy

Of metaphors of love 

Of freedom and respect 

Of a day, where we are ‘we’ again

Until then, I remain

Salvaging hope.

A Fishy Analogy

Daily prompt:Fry

Lots of fries,

One huge net.

Willing bait

Lined projectile.

The angler manipulates,

The rest happens.

The catch of the day

Fallen hook,line and sinker.


Riding atop the gossamer clouds,

Slithering past the serpentine rush,

Waltzing through the shores unknown,

Seeping forth the pumping beats,

Reflecting across the mirror of time,

Climbing high amid the scraping peaks.

I wonder, what is it.

Palpable in its invisibility,

Illuminating the world is its USP.

Lingering in the obscurities,

Yet manoeuvring the cosmic sheets.

Wonder what it is

Starved of it,

Humanity asphyxiates.

Smothered by it,

It loses its allure.

The muse of poets,

Testament to folklore inked.

I wonder, what is it.

A Vignette of Perfection

Vintage amour

tranquil acquiescence.

Contemporary hubris

imperious preponderance.

Debates of meliority

Set off cranky offshoots.

Do rest in peace, rather.

Stark contrasts.

Analogous complements.

Perfect flaws in each,

Embrace the imperfect ideals.

A paradoxical paragon.

Tale of A Place

A place exists…

Shrouded in darkness

With muted cries.

Every street, a graveyard.

Each person, a victim.

Dream, better not

Life, Freedom?

Meaningless nouns.

Humanity, unheard of.

Empty stares, devoid of hope.

Minutes tick by,

Bracing for the familiar

Clouds of Ash suffused with death.

Existence occurs.

It does, yes.

But each day, a timely reminder

Better not being born

Than dealt such a card

A place exists such as this…

Where it beckons to humanity day and night but is unaware that sometimes the world is just so cold

Conflicting Waves



They seem pleased

That should be right.

It is right

It should be.

Acknowledging nods

Validation evident.

No other way

This is the one.

The right way

The way everybody does it.

The rat-race track

Designed to please,

Yet seldom for one’s own.


To the numbered days

To the sand left

To the acidic lemons

To the turning pages

To the walls up high

To the masquerade ball

To the changing winds

To the people in my life

To the refreshing lemonade

To the purpose in progress

To the beauty in life

To the resonating resilience

To the hope and belief

To the clown spirit

To all these and more that teach me

To stand up and smile

To live and change the tides

To spread my wings and fly

To live my life

To be without an ‘or’

To the legacy wrought in embers

And inked with the fiery flames

To remember beyond the end

And forget never that

Alis volat propriis.


Fueled by madness,

The inevitable unpredictability

Crow-feet and beads of sweat adorn

Every passing minute.

Tempers run high,

Patience runs low

The over-crowded lanes

Cloaked by smog.

Incessant honking ,

Adding to the symphony.

The synchronized cacophony,

Drift of the myriad flavours

Time in control,

Wreaking havoc on Man

Embouteillage- A nightmare lived.

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