Yourself

Don’t just become
But Make yourself
Don’t crib and complain
rather blame yourself
Stay wild, stay mad
But slowly tame yourself
If you are lost and lonely
Go and claim yourself
Keep the fire burning inside
Continuously flame yourself.

Something To Relate To

We are mean machines
Captured consciousness
Chaotic, Disrupted presences
Vying for belongingness
Living on in hopelessness
In a familiar strangeness
Above all, Death is relentless
And dying is not lifelessness.

Love up to you.  

While I slip by 

Your jousty curves 

And your silver pearls 

I will fall in 

With your straight eyebrows. 

I will give in 

To your soft touch. 

If you stop me 

By your hurtful moan 

I will be your wolf 

You be my moon. 

While I erase 

Your older deeds 

Give me new sins 

To remember you by. 

While I condense 

This time to you 

You give me my 

Moments of eternity. 

I never entail 

What your feet cover 

I only wander 

In the sense of your hair 

It’s shining 

Her skin is fair. 

If I stole 

A look from you 

Glance me all day 

While I glance you. 

Through your night shades 

Give me your dusk 

Since the morning of love

Till the night of lust. 

If I divide 

In the line of your curves 

And seldom appear 

In the curve when you smile 

Consider this 

It takes a while to live up to you. 

A Man Without Perspective 

I am just a man.
A man without perspective.
I accept or reject nothing
I just see the collective.
Everything is connected.
It’s all relative.

But why should I explain,
Myself to you?
I don’t subscribe
To beliefs or like stuff.
You’ll never know
What I go through.

I have no name, no caste
I’m a godless man
My canvas is vast, and
deep like the oceans.
The definitions, I despise
I am wise, other wise.

I don’t exist in one place,
Neither am I lost on one desire.
Not taking part in any race.
Nor is my thirst,quenching of a fire.
I live as a face of many face.
Feeding a curiosity that’ll never retire.

And I choose all of this
Because I clearly see
The flaws of our language
the way we communicate.
It’s a distortion of meanings
Murder of experiences

Interpretations
misinterpretations.
It is total annihilation
Of something which begins
As a pure thought.
But ends on naught.

It is a task in futility
To teach peace
In a world of violence
I can only spread it.
I choose to remain silent
Live on as the man
Without perspective.

  • Mayank ‘Sahar’ Mishra

Roadblocks.

My story is stuck

on the point where

I pick up myself and leave.

My words are plucked

at the time

when I try to read.

My joy, my life,

and my sorrow

Every feeling

that I borrow

is more and more

incomplete.

My poems prose

is lost in your brows.

Love is a silent murmur

too faint to hear

too loud to deny.

Don’t ask me why ?

It’s the way things are.

But I got no luck

to get me through

and I wonder,

What comes next ?

Or I shall bring on

the words

poetry

prose

to a close

A lake of words

might be just

the most lovely song.

Who knows?

I will for now

carry on.

My Muse

Her silence,speaks volumes
In a symphony, like a tune
her anger says she loves hard,
her actions reveal her heart

Her fire measures her warmth
her eyes speak her story
she marks her presence faintly
committing her crime so saintly.

Her touch has lingered,
and it talks on about her
longing to feel once more,
the way she made me feel before.

Her laughter echoing,
Has left behind a smile
Now she is gone and I realise
That nothing anymore is worthwhile.

– Mayank ‘Sahar’ Mishra

Resolute

There I was
In the darkness
Of the lovely night
And my shady brother
breaking the first of my last resolutions.

Together
Hammered
Hand in hand
With fleeting desires
Breaking past the uncounted revolutions.

I was freeing
Myself, from my soul
I hope to destroy
Myself and make me again
Dreaming ahead of the quiet demolitions.

Rebuilding I am
A making, a beginning
Misguided in the unknown
I am a ‘knowing’ myself
Beginning at the hint of all tribulations.

                                         

            -Mayank ‘sahar’ Mishra

Words

I live only to write. words are my little soldiers.here is one dedicated to them words.

“Words,
Somehow
Make me,
Break me.

It’s words
Only
Which I
Have,
to Give you.

Just words
To remind
To rewind
To the days
When you
and me,
Were us.

To take,
To break,
To make.
You are
The Nox,
A look of
Your grace;
Can bless
My days.

And meet
Me once
Again
by my
pillow.
You see
It’s hard to
Sleep alone.

I am far
In the sky.
Like the moon
And you are the
Endless night.
I will pass by
Every night
Through you.
Till you
Until you
eclipse Me.”

And my heartiest thanks to my readers. Without you I am nothing. 

Lost Hearts

Poetry is not an easy task. It is like learning to beat the storm when you are stuck in its eye. 

“And one night
When he and she were fast asleep
Their hearts armed with love
Gathered upon a pact to keep
Their bet on who loved harder
His heart talked till tire
Hers was a silent desire
Slowly the return to the start
When she was all fire
And he, only a silent desire
On the way back, the two humbled hearts
Forgot the way
And now
Hers beats in him
and his inside her.”

        – sahar 

The Look Back.

Among few things there is no binding,
no divisions, neither any surrounding
Life is round , so is the world,
So went the last year in rounding
Measured quantities of sharp emotions
with discontent and hued notions.
Becoming more mechanic each day.
I survive and dine on potions..
it all went, it all then came…
There was happiness, there was pain
What stayed was the worthless moment,
passed away often in vain !
wisdom arrived disguised in experiences,
cruel and striking at the heart,
taking away each time 
a part of me cut apart.
The raging past reminds me again
to redeem that which was lost
To rise and walk again
and bury the sins of the past.”
                        – Mayank ‘sahar’ Mishra