Across the wandering life’s dynamic domain,
we traverse on the footprints of fate.
The tortuous pathway we pave for us
in the uncertain topography of life
meanders to the formless fortune
where it takes the ordained shape,
We trudge aimless with nebulous ambition
on the fated course of ambiguity,
across the illusive hues of the sunset horizon,
where we get caught in the confining clutch
of the storm clouds of providence
as captive of the toxic milieu.
The night unfolds its fiery face
within the insight struck by thunderstorm,
every heartbeat finds the scars engraved by chance.
The shadows of deceit dance with intent
within the melting conscience clouds,
truth revealed in lies is hidden in the shine of the stars.
The surreptitious dreams we design
dazzle with the stellar glow
with heaven’s secrets coded for one and all.
The whisper of celestial silence articulates destiny
for the mystified travelers following
the tune of the singing stars.
“a heartbeat pulsating as living light
free from each and every limitation
I Am that dwelling in unbound delight
the source wherefrom arises creation”
Is my soul in this brain and body, strapped?
No, it is not caged or trapped
in a dark, confining cell
where a prisoner might dwell.
In my beating heart, there is a key
to open up each bright land and sea,
or any other world, instead,
through a window in my head.
What, today, will it release?
One hundred wild Canadian geese.
Written: July 02, 2026, for a contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
********************
The mirror convulses and shakes
when my cold breathing breaks,
a sliver of dark light I see —
slicing through the silver glare.
Steals my peace, traps my sanity.
Shadow's edges with bright colors flare
panic's claw, carves its narrow line —
within this confining frame.
I reflect on the face that once was mine,
Unsure who changed the rules of the game.
What happens to those emotions
that suddenly lose their way?
That was meant to be
but disappeared abruptly
by the decision taken by one!
What happens to those feelings?
Okay, the one who is not changed
tries to get back, tries to resolve,
shouts, cries, or writes poetry!
But what do the others do who take this abrupt decision?
How can they just put an end suddenly
and start not to feel those emotions from the next day?
What do they do with those emotions?
Or while leaving they gifted their own emotional baggage to the one who left behind?
and that's why the one who stays
feels heavier than before,
that they can't raise their head
and spend months just doing nothing,
confining own in a room and lying in bed
neither like a corpse, nor alive, rather half dead.
Forever heart keeps its smooth beat
Forever mind thinks on
Thoughts of its never ending wit
Confining the beyond
Forever garden has to grow
Forever roses bloom
Forever evening’s afterglow
Enhance the darkened room
Forever poor have no names
Forever truth unfolds
Forever politician blames
Forever people’s faults
Forever soldier cannot die
Forever victims fall
Forever rain adorns the sky
Forever ringtones call
What do we have to do I asked
Forever love of mine
I’m feeling slightly unadvanced
With open hearts and minds
We came, but no one seems to care
Nobody looks at us
What we have lost here, unprepared
To delve into the past?
With glass of wine we take our seats
The lawn looks dark and vast
Pippa’s blue ball is at your feet
Forever found, at last.
Glass Prison
Within the four walls of crystal clear
a prison formed, unseen, but near
Translucent bars, they hold me tight
Confining thoughts both day and
night
With each breath, I find my ray
Shattering the glass, breaking away
No longer conlined, I soar above
Embracing freedom, a flight of love,
Don't attempt to cram existence
Into the confining cell you've hidden
Your light in imprisoning your
Freest thoughts in a bottle
Opaque and silent
Doubtful and yet
Unquestioning.
Christopher M. Swan 2008
If my voice reaches not to you,
Add to it the rumbling echo
From ancient love tales.
Add to it a princess
And further, her beauty,
To it, and a love-lost man’s heart,
Let a dagger pierce it apart
To know what ‘tis like getting lost in love
How it hits like a bolt from blues above.
To love’s like an ocean on rage,
And getting drowned with a confining cage.
________________________
Free verse | 13.02.2026 | love, lost, missing you, pain
Note: Inspired from a piece by Afzal Ahmed Saiyad. The pain of getting lost in love is being narrated from ancient times. The hurt is so deep, pain remains forever. It is just getting expressed in different ways in different ages; stories change, but its essence remains. Yet, falling in love remains unchanged. And along with it, ‘falling’ too. Who can stop a moth from getting scorched in fire?
A poet exposes scenes to explore new horizons
unfolding under expansive or confining domes
We slow it down, decelerate, discern
unveiling are a fable's morals and concerns
taking pause to commune with fauna and elm
serenely does nature speak throughout her realm
our phrases linger with new colors
hues vibrant encompass as skylines
our dimensions broaden anew
sentences chosen carefully carry more import
with words nuanced, renewed
with a more sentient bite
with emotions more candid
abashedly bare, a despair founded
with paroxysm of catharsis we quill
weeping of our dormant essence shaken to life
confessions deepening, plunging in thought
letting the afflatus of passion flow
I Am Anaya
quill & inkwell love
11/14/25
my body is a jail
confining me to aches and pains
I am spirit
wanting to fly
remembering my past
In the world where feelings intertwine,
Where hearts entrust their beats to one another,
Have you ever truly thought, deep inside,
How to love without confining them to a dance?
It’s not about ephemeral bodies here,
But souls that unite in secret,
Of mysterious women, of mothers and sisters,
Who find themselves step by step in life's dance.
Beyond the brilliance of a smile, the touch of lipstick,
Exists a world where love blooms pure and sincere.
A woman is not just an image, but an eternal melody,
With notes of passion, with chords of desire.
When you lose yourself in the warmth of her arms,
You feel the universe finds its place.
For in her heart lies a symphony,
A symphony of love, of hope, of dreaming.
And when you think you’ve deciphered her every verse,
Consider the mystery that still awaits you.
For a woman is not just an enigma, but an endless poem,
She is the music of life, the ray of sun at dawn.
So before you lose yourself in her dream,
Ask yourself if you’re ready to join the dance.
If you’re willing to love her, to accompany her,
Then open your heart, and let her lead you in the waltz.
I wish
to fit in
somewhere
anywhere~
others fit in
not wishing
as do I~
wholeness may
appear as confining
wishes~~
freedom for me came in the form of a dog run
promised weeks before it arrived
I gave up hope the Thursday it finally came
I had been hostage to my house for eleven months
because Beau, my baby dog chases cars
He follows pretty teenage girls home
He runs around delivery trucks as they enter our long driveway
Our good dog, Buddy, had never left our yard before Beau came
Buddy is super sweet, a gentle giant, but easily led by Beau.
They were tormenting the neighbors.
Now they are confined to the house.
Their dog porch, the dog run, my art studio.
Not to mention an enormous play yard.
Not really so confining, huh?
Contritions Wombe
Calling for what I am not
A leader
I cannot
A last means
A final
Evaluation
Of your limitations
I will possibly describe
Your amazement atop a well
Panic and plague
Where do spell
To no breach
Will the mind respond
A city orchestrated
Behind in its eyes
Comment of its betrayal
It's fail in sails
Get the life in doors from them
Yet they buy for their owning and confining of grace goes why
There was a Time in my life where I tried to undermine
The lies in my mind
Time being spent tryna justify
Asking myself who’s this guy
Time to get rid of the disguise
Now I’m left with this persona
Who lost his sense of self due to corona
Isolated but not at home
Doing shrooms dropping acid
Went from being avid
To my ego collapsin
So when they ask if I been slipping
Yeah I have been
Forced to fight the feeling
Born to write words that cause healing
So I picked up the pen
Becoming an addict
To be a man amongst men
Puttin my heart and pride on these sheets of paper
I’m finna Break the stereotype and become a different type of landscaper
One who cuts and trims the letters to fit better
On this piece of paper
That I call a love letter
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