The Cosmos

I am a little whirlpool,

in a violent stream

Choked on my own

silent screams.

Moving through the crowd,

forlorn, for desires

I barter my dreams

My eyes ragged,

And so, is my jeans

So I Masquerade in

shady themes

I am a dark wave

shooting space.

So anachronistic in

These times extreme

Riding light through

space & time.

My soul is splitting

right at the seam.

Ramblings 1

I have been buzzing with questions

So silent and so Impatient

So loud and so volatile

I have yet much to decide

The paths that set me free

And the holes to the void

After all we will die

Leave immortality behind

And the dreams you dreamt

Time sweeps them aside..

My Dreams

Oh!, How I dream?

About dreams lost,

About my past,

Of ccompassions,

Of passions,

Of emotions rushed,

Of desired hushed,

and I have dreamt.

Of rough mountains,

Of tender oceans ,

Of rocky moonlight,

Of blazing lights,

And bewildering sights

Oh, how I dream!

About her eyes

I dream of lies

That I tell myself

When I wake up

That it is reality!

And I am living

Only in a dream.

The Wave of Discomfort

A serious phase is dawning on me

As I am being swept by this torrent

My mind is a little further from me

As I am fighting this current

The ones I love are drifting away

When they are gone,

I’ll lose my way

If not me, then who

Is controlling my fate

Who within me,

Is spreading this hate?

So long I surfed this wave

Now a new path I shall pave

For it is time to collect the bill

For everything I ever gave.

What I do ?

What I do is,
I step into a stranger’s shoes,
and walk along finding the clues.
I see, I hear and talk like him
I be him, am him, belong to him.
He may be painter, a soldier or a killer,
I have been both pious and sinner.
I see through your eye,
The same ground the same sky.
But wrought with perceptions of my own,
Things I see, to you I have shown.
Strung in the harmony of words,
I will narrate you the chirping of birds
Like crackling of galaxies, a herd of herds.
Drop the honeyed sun in the ocean
Or set upon entire worlds in motion.

What I do,
Is I speak a language,
of a universal syntax.
Please do correct me if I am lax,
I do not mean to impose,
I just don’t talk in prose.
If you are looking for patterns,
You won’t find any.
There is not one but one too many.
I simply plough in the mind field,
some times sowing ,others slashing.
Seeds in the corners of the unknown minds.
Shall they grow up to be a labyrinth ?
Or remain just seeds.
How much of what I say is true ?
It is all up to you.

What I do is,
I reflect you in my lines.
Read your life in between them,
In one I have lived many lives.
I like to shuffle between them.
Moving between you I study you.
Unknown, I live among you.
Long after I am gone and my bones are interred.
My verses shall be read, my songs sung, my poetry heard.
I shine in your dreamy eyes.
I reveal the truth behind your lies.
What I do is I read, not books.
But smile,frowns,faces and looks.

What I do is,
I bend the rules.
Even make them break them.
Sometimes I have to remake them.
My characters are real,
the scenes and my experiences.
The sights are really surreal.
A lot of wrong turns, not mere events.
In the pitch dark night.
I will describe the light
For you I will shine bright.
Is what I do !

– sahar

the featured picture is a copyright of ┬ęPrabal Pandey , a professional photographer and traveller. you can see his photo album at https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/prabalpandey/