My heart is a butterfly
Drifting aimless in the breeze
Floating without a care
Fluttering my wings
Of resplendent silk
Those who lay eyes upon me
Watch in wonder
As I dance, in a trance
To the song of freedom
And the music of love
Tag Archives: Poetry
Carnival Of Life
Pics taken on the Santa Monica Pier-Edits by Emrys
Carnival of Life
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As the earth spins
And time rolls on
Affection becomes an obligation
Lines deepen into wrinkles
The present becomes the past
And the past history
Front in line steps back
As the weary spine sags towards the ground
The carnival of life stops for no one
It simply goes on
The Lone Koi
I’m strong
I’m courageous
I prosper
I’m ambitious
Follow me
I am master of my destiny
Coward
COWARD
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Hands freeze
On the wheel
Horns scorn
They fly around
They tease
I’m weary
Of the constant conflict
Of picking up the gauntlet
Of being a ‘MAN’
Go on, heckle me
I don’t care
I am a coward
Words Are Bland.
Words are bland
Unless spiced with emotion
Prayer is without expression
Unless said with devotion
Love is an empty pot
Unless filled with trust
Earth is a barren spot
Without loads of dust
History is a blank slate
Without old tales to tell
Heavens wouldn’t be in demand
Without the ill repute of hell
Life would lack soul
Without the good and the bad
Friends make my life whole
For that I’m really glad
The Price of War
A Random Bird in the Sky
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Like a random bird in the sky
I fall
Senseless
I mix with the dust
Of another land
I remain nameless
Who am I?
But another random bird in the sky
The Window : The Boy on the Street
The view from inside the first courtyard of The Palazzo Vecchio- the town hall of Florence, Italy.
The Boy on The Street
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The entire world passes by
While she remains static
Finding relief from her reminiscences
Her morose thoughts
`
A young man passes by
An inquisitive light in his eyes
She knows not his name
It’s but a trifling detail
`
She welcomes the anonymous exchanges
A smile
Sometimes a wave
And assembles a hazy dream
Of carefree tomorrows
And hopeful todays
Windows
Windows
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Clean windows, plain, glass, open, close, bright,
Light, shaded, paned, shuttered, blinded, boarded,
Rusty, dirty, smoky windows.
Broken, shattered, run down windows
Windows that protect and hide,
a mirror to the world outside
and sometimes to the world within
unraveling layer by layer, revealing,
A tool for introspection and scrutiny,
A glance into a soul, full of secrets and smokescreens,
Evasion, denial, half-truths
Windows, they tell it all.
PS: The photograph is a view of the shops on Ponte Vecchio (old bridge) across the Arno River, in Florence, Italy.
PPS: Like the poem? If so do check out my poetry and short story collection ‘Under the Shade of the Banyan Tree’
Postmortem
(Photo courtesy: Last portrait of mother by Daphne Todd)
Postmortem
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She lies senseless
Sprawled on the hospital bed
The indignity of disease and death
Another chunk of meat
For the butcher’s block
Under the Shade of the Banyan
Original art by Sneha (oil pastel)
Under the Shade of the Banyan
`
Banias conduct business
Gods meditate and recline
My leaves dispense knowledge
My structure reflects the world
Material and Spiritual
Study me
I am the eternal tree
`
The Banyan tree is the national tree of India and Bangladesh. The word Banyan comes from the Gujarati word Bania or trader. The word was picked up by the Portugese to refer to the Hindu traders who used to sit under the shade of these trees to conduct their business and passed it on to the English who began to refer to the ‘Banyan’ trees. 🙂
Interesting? Learn more here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banyan