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.

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 ©Prabal Pandey , a professional photographer and traveller. you can see his photo album at https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/prabalpandey/