When Thoughts Betray.

And you will be shocked to know
That the irony is that
It is those moments that are closest to me
Which I have failed to record in my words
Repeatedly betraying me
Like a mirage in a desert
Those experiences which
Are killed as thoughts,
as though murdered
during birth,
by a witless counterpart.
Are actually
my best moments,
and the closest to my heart.
It is like the invasion
of one thought by another,
like demolishing of a world
a whole new culture
and a way of thinking
by a wholly new and
strange way.

Darkness

We are beyond saving,
Beyond hope, beyond magic.
We are beyond our craving,
Spinning a web of life so tragic.

As too much freedom hurts,
the value of beauty is lost.
To reclaim futuristic thrones,
We throng our souls in the past.

Fabricated feelings clog our thoughts,
Unwanted courtesies, formal formalities.
We lose ourselves to ciphering bots,
Identity lost in multiple identities.
We are doomed and devastated,
Uncertain amidst dead certainties.

Denying truth in favour of lies,
Decaying humour makes me weep.
It’s in us humans where the fault lies.
My words find me a little deep.

Enchanted flavours of colourful dreams,
Plastering sympathy on my wounds.
Smokey transitions in melting creams.
Finding myself out of bounds.

Medicating with a self brewed poison,
razored along with spineless victims.
Envying the soul, with caution
Advising my selfless instincts.

– Mayank ‘Sahar’ Mishra.

Featured Poetry- by Henson Towne

Sometimes the best feelings are expressed in the simplest words. Just like Da Vinci spoke, “Simplicity is the best sophistication.”

This poem narrates the tragic scenario of two young friends getting separated and ultimately end up never saying hello again..

Around the Corner
Around the corner I have a friend,
in this great city that has no end.
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
and before I know it, a year is gone.

And I never see my old friends face,
for life is swift and a terrible race.
He knows I like him just as well,
as in the days when I rang his bell.

And he rang mine, if we were younger then,
and now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.

“Tomorrow” I say,” I will call on Jim”… ”
Just to show that I’m thinking of him”.
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
and distance between us grows.

Around the corner!- yet miles away,
“here’s a telegram sir” “Jim died today”.
And thats what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

by: Henson Towne

Title Doesn’t Matter

A transformation,
or something as small as change,
does not occur ovrnight
hidden behind
is the time
and the feeling of
being different
inside.

So what if I can’t be,
all I want,
in a single lifetime
in my stories and in my poems
my characters shall live long after
I am gone.
They shall relive
through the words of someone
like me !

If I won’t b there to be it all
at least I can see it all
and here I sit,
with a perfect view
blocked
with buildings.
I know you don’t,
but my words believe me.

I have been there, I’ve done it all.
All the pain and desires, I’ve sufferd it all.

Dead eyes give away,
I’m a man without
a perspective.
That’s
the worst kind.
I have grown,
And I am not
anymore me !

But here I am
Synchronised imperfectly
In this perfect harmony
Or so it may seem.
Behind snow capped peak
Is the light
I seek and I am
Not me.