On a Tuesday.

College was too much fun

Learning, Ah! that we did none.

Smoked the days away

Made the nights stay

And now nights shall fly

And the days shall be dry

I look up, I see a cloudy blue sky

The hint of the rains is nearby.

— Sahar

Who We Are.

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

We are measured extremes,
trying so hard to balance
our lives in weightlessness,
scrounging by on emotions
breaking our meditation,
trusting in faithlessness.
Universe is indefiniteness
boundaries are absurdness.

We are poised river streams,
flowing in chosen directions,
Living and dying to meet
oceans and then fall as rain.
Meandering by, a tamelessness
an epitome of abstractness.
We live as she lives by
a journey of ambitiousness.

We are forgotten dreams
in an eye of imagitiveness
it is discovering nuances
with a look of ancientness.
It is only right to wake up
experience anonymousness
remembering the dreams
live moments of breathlessness.

– sahar
photograph by sahar

Hello

My co-travelers in this  poetical voyage, I am ever thankful for your love and support. 

I deleted my account on Facebook due to some reasons of my own, but I have decided to start a page since so many readers get their dosage of information and self-gratification texts.
So I am here to ask for. Your support and likes on it ,please share the page and make this poet popular. 
Thanks 

Love & peace. 
Yeah the link to the page:

https://m.facebook.com/whispersofimmortality

A Poem for Poems

“If one day,
your thoughts are free
then don’t stop amigo
be all you want to be.

If one day,
all your emotions,stand
in your way then
master them today.

If one day,
your pen bleeds like humans.
know this , your words
they only suffer your deeds.

If one day,
you write too much,
and write all your heart out
as all my days are such

Then, do not let your poetry
lack words or alphabets
for they are only tools
and poets are only fools.”

 

 – Mayank “Sahar” Mishra

The Girl of my Poems 

There is a girl who gives me poems
In the night or early morning
I hear her silent whisper
Calling my soul away from
The night to the lovely dawn

The girl she gives me my poems
She is a distant dream
No phrases can match her
No metaphors or similes
Let her float in the skies
For another eerie night
The girl with the words of my poems
Her magic is violent
A collision of galaxies
Like my thoughts are dust
Her breath is the light in stars
The poet in me is free as
Her touch varies in degrees
The girl like the words of my poems
She left me no rule to follow
Making and unmaking me again
A silent trail of woven words
Like petals strewn on the roads
To the palace where she rests
A path the poet must take always She is the girl of my poems.

A Flock Of Emotions.

It’s just a start, things will drag on to far fetched destination..

we will walk on and cross realms beyond imagination…

Everyday asking the universe for a new relation..

we will walk long roads trotting in hesitation..

balking on banks on the road to perdition..

Till the road diverges again, breaking the tradition..

No blind beliefs, no sheep walk and no representation.

Burying past and luck, walk with me and defy predestination…