Spurious Art

The man we chose and so we pose

Nothing short of an “Art”,

and then- that’s what we cart.

This Art,- flawless, magic-they say

Such class, such skill, mere poise- If I may.

We carry this art; wherever we go.

We claim it as ours and begin our show

The Art hangs on a nail, on a colorful wall,

I see those faces in awe and some of them appall

They think it is great, they think it is real

And then the colors fade and art begins to peel

They call it as Spurious!, fake! and false!

And then it is taken down- with a smeared applause

It sits there in cart, all withered and pale

Loses all its colors but hangs onto the nail.

This nail is its hope, to go back on that wall

Since its not its last and that's not "All"

Graceful Fall

Elegant, was the word my tongue could manage, as I saw this ring rotating on a table,

Two concaves, joint together- moving in tune with the Nth symphony of Silence,

Like they were free, free from all the self created troubles stemming from overambitious desires.

As I looked at it curling, I heard an accelerating looping sound-Ring was humming, like it was happy to be alive.

I kept on looking at the ring, as it moved on its axis from side to side, and now two words came to my mind- oblivious intoxication.

Now,the ring seemed rebellious,tired of gravitational tyranny-it had gone rouge.

I could not take my eyes off the ring, like I was looking for some unanswered celestial questions.

Then I saw it slowing down, like it had lost, but was not ready to get on its knees to handover its armor.

and then another strikingly familiar word came to me-Human.

Slowly, the ring came to a halt, with two sides still trying to raise head,still humming quietly-showing the elegant candor, before it could come to a complete stop.

At this point, an epiphanous outbreak led me to two words-Graceful Fall

An end, with these two words in cahoots-has not been a part to a life of many great men.

Live-Win (Livin)

Let me claim this life; Let me live it my way,

Let me fall to stand up again, oh! Please let me astray.

Let me not course the way to greatness, let that not fool my way.

Let me drill, drown and grope, no matter what they say.

Oh! Let me not kill my instincts, let me find my own prey.

Let me wrestle, rumble and brawl, let me see those faces appall.

Let me break, build and bind, let me leave my own kind.

Let me run and let me crawl, when the world says - walk tall.

Let me lose this time, oh! Let me sin, why is it so important to win?

A Complete Half

I feel like a disfigured earthen pot, complete but not perfect.

Useful but no equipped, proper but not ornamented.

Like a gift, not worth buying. Like a coin unused,

Like an important incident, not documented,

Like the running water in an abandoned house,

Like the only ticking arm of a watch.

I am a whole, but a part to this world,

Complete alone- incomplete without others.

Me

I hear million voices inside me, making me directionless, keeping me vision less, and choking me breathless. Confused, unsure and blindfolded- I am running towards a hole, a deep dark pit. I run as fast as I can, trying not to listen to any of these voices, but they still dictate my will. These voices become louder and more convincing as I go further. Tired, scared and bewildered I wish I could stop. I wish could take one breath of solace. I wish I could get out of this dark hole.

I wonder if there is a place away from this darkness, and far away from these voices. A place where there would be light, a place where there would be silence and calmness in air. I can picture that tranquility, that serenity, as I have been there. I have lived that life, and I have loved it. I chose what I am now, I decided this route; it is me. I planned this all along, I wished for this life; it was me. I blind folded myself and ran directionless, and called it dark, it was me.

I wish I was deaf to all these voices. I wonder why they were so convincing, and why they sound so familiar. Now I know, as they are all mine, millions of them stemming from the million of thoughts of an undecided mind. I blamed others but it was me. Me all this time-just me.

In Search of Ambiguity

Let ambiguity come in search for us this time.

Its survival depends upon our confusion,

And its fate lies in its solution.

Why do we run behind it, if the destiny is to find it after all?

This time around, we decide the route,

All these shots this time- we call.

We would not let it fool us this time,

We would not run behind it like it has done a crime.

Rather, we would sit, relax and let it be.

How hard would it try to find us? We will see.

Let, the whole world know that we throw our weapons today.

Beating us in this game is not its forte.

We are in this not to lose or to win,

First, it laughed now we have a grin.

We don’t understand it, that we show.

But does it understand us! - We will know.

 

PS-I LOVE MYSELF

PS- I LOVE MYSELF

 

I wished I loved less of me, I wished I dint crave for me that much.

I passed, I failed, I often swayed, I dint do much to be proud of.

I hid I ran, I ducked like a swan, as troubles practically became my prop.

I prayed as I lay beneath high- waters, hoped for peace amidst man slaughters.

 When all was vague, all was scattered, then nothing else except me mattered.

Rogue, brat, and rebel you might call, I love myself even when I fall

Never helpless, but I am shameless and penniless at time, and I seldom care to sublime.

I have become what I am with neither courage nor candor,

As I have reached here with utmost surrender.

Surrender, to my will and only mine and I think I have been just fine.

I could have seen finer things; if I could have just let it be,

I fought hard, I really tried, but could not love less of me.