I am the sweetest heart
Kindest and warmest soul
Living in the devil’s skin
I am all pure intentions
Acting out of morale
I am only positive, pure
Until I sleep devils lure
A fire burns still inside
So it is the devil I hide
While my soul rots away
The skin must always shine.
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
Often, in my lone wanderings
As an observer of crude life
I found myself without bearings
Crossroads on the road to strife
I was buried deeper by society
Partaking in social events
I donned new faces and acts
Shuffling roles between pretends
Fed slowly the poison of taste
Gulped down by the wine divine
I summoned the satan in a haste
Told him ‘the pleasures are thine’
I grew by the fire and read
Myself in the shifting flames
Earning me, myself, a bread
While a while engaging in games.
In my lone wanderings
I often did realize
Speak and hear of it no more
To live and write shall be wise.
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:
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.
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.
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
If I was a stray dog,
I would stray.
Without destination,
at strange places I would stay.
For long durations
And short intervals.
Travel as far as,
my all fours would take me.
Wag my tail at everything
that made me happy.
In a tourist’s picture
unknowingly I will smile snappy.
I would bark and bite
And run and hide.
Play and fight.
Be wild and cry
When in pain
I would seek
A human companion.
I would make friends,
lead the pack and follow,
Sometimes blindly and
in the lurking darkness
get chased by a bulldog.
I would lick and occasionally
Get kicked out from places
Where I am unwanted
Where people have still
Not discovered love or
The faith to live in a world.
Where you can sense
That animals too are alive.
For some, it’s a song.
For some, poetry.
For others, just words.
Or nothing, meaningless.
And meaningful.
My words know not,
formats and rules.
They flow like dust,
from denuded runes.
Slowly drifting,
directionless.
Lost in an ocean of,
thoughtfulness.
Struggling among
multiple identities.
Surviving their source,
my words just flow.
No tags, no tag lines.
No rhythm and no rhyme.
My words are,
an essence of experiences,
the verdict of my crimes.
Feel bad, feel good.
Feel pleasure or anguish.
Feel the depth or the high skies.
Feel the truth hidden beneath lies.
It is a Journey of words,
a labyrinth of consciousness.
I implore you, do not share this road,
for you must make your own.
Watch from afar,
and when you are done,
drift on and wander.
Just like my words.
Waiting
Seems forever,
When you are waiting.
Every moment frozen,
Not moving.
Every moment feels like,
an uneventful millennia,
when you are waiting.
Patience wears out slowly
thinning every moment,
into an impassable passage
of space and time.
Waiting.
Seems so futile,
when it is finally over.
Shifting of perception.
The long endless wait
which stretched into millennias,
seems like a blink of an eye.
When you aren’t waiting anymore.
Waiting,
It’s pseudo and an illusion.
Just to confuse you,
hidden behind the veil of
an expected event or a person.
Waiting,
makes us wait,
for the inevitable.
So strange that,
while waiting,
we never realise that,
It is just a myth,
a false sense of time.
and that the inevitable
always arrives.
– Mayank “Sahar” Mishra
in the photograph Himanshu Singh, my friend. Photo credits: Sahar
All content is © Mayank “Sahar” Mishra.
Whispers of Immortality 