Eluding Poems

Why

I spent so many lonely days,
many even lonelier nights,
asking of myself 
the whys and wherefores
of this terrible life.
To suffer such ignoble pains,
to be unjustly accused
of things I had not done.
 
I searched and sought
for reasons unknown.
Did I deserve such a life?
Or should I count the blessings,
a handful of good times?
Should I be content 
with what I've received?
 
Can I say I'm incomplete?
That I have not achieved?
Or is there a balance somewhere
that is forever eluding me.
Do I double count ill luck?
Do I half the good old times?
I must at least be sincere-
evaluate my life complete.
 
Yet if it's peace I seek
I must remember
that it is not for me
to ask why this, why that,
rather admit that happiness
comes only if we accept and say
"Thy will be done".
 
Then I'll need to trek 
uncharted roads,
fall into dark ravines;
meander through ugly days,
loiter through dreary solitary nights.
 
For I shall find all comfort:
the sadness I left behind.

Ashta-nayika - 4, Vipralabdha, Hurt by her beau

___________

The dejected heroine stands up to her beloved’s deceit,
suffers a slew of mental states: despair, deliberation, 
weakness, weariness, and indignation.
______________

Despair writ large in her red eyes,
And deliberation otherwise,
Weak and weary on waiting,
Flames of fire from eyes flaring,
Indignant, lapses she in past at last,
Now and then oh what a contrast!
Then, I longed for a few free days from him,
Yet, it never came true-- eluding dream--
Hope, that ghee-less would go his lamp,
Yet, never got folded his camp,
Is it that I no longer attract
Him? O come let me know the fact.
_______________________
Natya Shastra | 04.02.2025 | Free verse, emotions, despair, heartbroken 
Note: This is fourth of Ashta-Nayikas, eight heroine types, as classified in a Sanskrit treatise on performing arts in Bharata’s Natya-Shastra. The state (avastha) of the eight romantic heroines widely themed in Indian paintings, literature, sculpture, classical dance forms and music. Vipralabdha is the fourth of the eight such heroines depicted here in poetic form.

Time Slipping By

Lately time has been eluding me, going by so fast.
It makes me afraid what we have attained again won't last.
But I know most of how we had suffered is now all in the past.

Fading

Our affection was once a radiant blaze, now fading
The warmth that ignited our souls is now fading  
The moments we cherished have become echoes, fading 
The joy we once knew has turned to whispers, fading  

Our dialogues have become clumsy, fading  
The silence stretching between us grows heavier, fading 
The bond we once cherished is fraying, fading 
Our hearts pulse to a rhythm of their own, fading 

We grasp desperately, but it's eluding, fading 
The love we nurtured is gradually vanishing, fading  
Our connection is fading, and I’m fading
Into the shadows of our once-vibrant past, fading

New Year Resolution

The spent year sinks in the captivating cauldron of history,
trace a fading furrow of memory in the shadow of setting sun, 
etched in the realm of remote remembrance weary,
as the new months come with blooming buds of promise.

As Janus opens for me the door to the new beginning,
after my time crosses the corridor of the worn-out year,
I’d weave unseen dreams in the tapestry of future ensuing,
the unsung songs I’d fondly sing in cycles of new seasons.

My children who’ve grown aspirant wings of freedom, 
have flown away to the seamless sky they have chosen.
In the new year I’d do whatever it takes for them to return 
to the longing nest I’ve woven for them in my heart.

In my earnest pledge in the new year I solemnly resolve,
I’d kindle the candles of affection and care in my hearth.
The dreams eluding me in the years that have gone by, 
I wish to fulfill before they’re abandoned in the wrap of time.

Dollar Collar

My optics are fooling me,

Intuition eluding me,

Life is confusing me.

I step inside to see,

Whats off with my energy,

As this feeling pulls at me.

Facing everyday tiredly,

Fighting to get ahead,

Hurrying to be dead.

As Money drowns all i did,

Keeping me in this pit,

Fighting my Spirit.

I've had enough of it,

I don't even like it,

It's only creating conflict.

No one else sees it,

Feeding all of us in the pit,

Stepping over others just to get it.

Leaving those behind in need,

Filling Pockets full of greed,

Just to prove you succeed.

A system to make you bleed,

To earn something to feed,

A family that needs you to thrive.

Its foundation will falter,

And they'll poison your water,

To keep you on your Dollar Collar.

Bipolar

There was a day when my brain turned against me
thirsting for daily dose of medication.
My thoughts grew dim and every day more cloudy
as if in fear of some intimidation.
I fought against growing sense of agony
words eluding my desired ambition.
But the day came when the lights came back on
Words spewing forth in an unending ribbon.

The daily grind

Trailing clouds of glory do we come 
Until by the end we are left dull and glum.
How it all came to this
We are responsible
 For being so remiss 
The magic of our early moments 
 Emblazoned in our minds
 Fades and disperses with every pressure
Our world brings to bear upon our pleasure
Exams, bills, targets, workday worries
blunt our perceptions
And drive them undergound
Occasionally to spark alive in a dream state
Eluding our grasp 
once we come to our senses
Wide awake and once more blind
How to recapture
And to resurrect
That rich inner spirit
Which came with our birth
That should be our aim
Too many earthly concerns
Within  our clay
Must take the blame
For that  loss of courage 
To break free from the constricting frame 
Forcing us 
To forget the beauties of the day
To play the stultifying economic game
The  stifling straitjacket of life
Keeps us playing

I did not know how to love you

I did not know how to love you,
I burned in silence, a flame wandering
In the forgotten valley, where time stands still,
Your eyes - lighthouses in the night, beads sparkling
In the ash that remained from our love.
Your echoes, in a hush, reverberated,
Eluding my grasp, unable to hold them close;
Beneath my steps, the burning lava consumed me,
Leaving behind the ash of unfulfilled desires.
I touched you, gently, upon the soul, without you knowing,
Windmills scattering the scent of jasmine
Under heavy eyelids; and I crushed you,
Unaware of your astral radiance.
From the ear of wheat, I gleaned silence,
The same mute piety from which distance was born.
I never learned how to love,
I diluted, became part of the river of love.
Beyond me, where dreams end,
The white butterflies extinguish in the prayer of resurrection,
Leaving behind only the memory of what was
And a deep regret for the unfulfilled love.

Everything from B to Z

Something's missing in the puzzle of life.
I'm living without something, I just know.
I must tell you, my confusion is rife.
I'm stumped.  I've hunted high.  I've hunted low. 

Should I try to discern my inner soul?
Is there some key to find or discover,
Eluding my quest for perception, whole -
Confounding my struggles to uncover?

Would this key empower me to express
Every truth which resides deep in my core?
I'm told I'm progressing.  Nevertheless,
Every door I open yields one more door.

I've looked through everything from B to Z -
I'll quit to munch fruit Eve pulled from the tree.

State of us

Time does not stand still,
History will tell you so.
Soldiers marching on foreign lands,
Children looking for the kill.

Old men's orders, cast on deaf ears.
Peaceful protests about anything.
Death and destruction imminent,
Eluding to everyone's fears.

We're born to fight, to survive,
Born to love, carry on the line.
They all knew the ones of old,
Dying, fighting, just to feel alive.

Nothing loved, nothing lost.
Everything gone, thank you us.
Unknown planets to escape to,
Broken hearts at what cost.

Smooth Talkers

Smooth Talkers are double-minded in the mind and heart.
  Your words have no actions only reactions and are
   similar to cymbals that recklessly now clash with no
   holding one's interest seen obsolete. Smooth talkers
   are their assumptions? You lost your mojo with
   eluding and pervasive charm. Smooth Talkers reeling
one in like quicksand are your characteristics. 

Smooth Talker your spell has lost its potency and now
has been disconnected,  and your cunning talks are like
the wind.

Cruising the 80s

Angela spoke to Bob, then they caught a
Taxi and took a ride through the 80s
Prince decided to take a ride too but he wanted
to go fast so he took a Little Red Corvette and parked the Mercedes 

Cruising, riding, cruising the 80s
Fun, happy, and free for sure, and very few maybes

Michael Knight pressed the gas as he rode against
crime with his good friend KITT
Bo, Daisy, and Luke joined the fun while running some shine and eluding Boss Hogg with their wit

Bruce Banner opted for a pair of Rockport and a 
backpack for fear of revealing his green side
Crockett and Tubbs could feel it 'In the Air Tonight' as they cruised the south side

Cruising, riding, cruising the 80s
Fun, happy, and free for sure, and very few maybes

Yes, cruising

Not only by roadways but on the big blue seas,
Romance and adventure were felt on The Love Boat
embracing the breeze

Fae

It's straightforward enough to be the Cheshire Cat grinning. 
A stroll in the park to smile when you're winning. 
But when you find yourself irked and cursing the weather. 
You're unconsciously encompassed by the Fundamental Attribution Error. 

A theory purporting it's mostly all luck. 
Like getting that pay rise, or our wedding ring stuck. 
Carefully eluding unnecessary confrontation and hate. 
Then declaring a million and one times you don't exaggerate. 

Attempts to train the mind not to be bitter or pious. 
A desperate evasion of this confirmation bias. 
Blaming others for misfortune and ourselves for the good. 
A rephrasing of stereotypes to see things as we should. 

Whilst rejoicing achievements is admirable and just. 
Take a second to pause, exhale, reflect if you must. 
Content to live in the moment. This moment right here. 
With freedom of cognition. With our mental pathways clear. 

To be kind, where possible, in all circumstances. 
A non-judgemental stranger throwing uplifting glances.

The Memory Room

Dim light
  sun rays reflecting 
 through the window glass
  casting shadowy images dancing along the walls,
early morning residue of the night
  where hopes and dreams survive
 immovable from mind and heart
  eluding the memories of the soul;
kindred spirits reawakened
  cluttering up the memory
 held snug, safe within each memento
  those I gave you, the ones you gave to me;
angels chanting
  of Christmases, birthdays out of time
 cascading flowers fallen petals, dried
  pressed within a card, a book, a bible;
secured in this sanctuary
  of silenced hymns and unanswered prayers
 grateful for what was, what is
  between two friends, companions, lovers in the night;
Extrapolate what you may imagine
  conjure up 
 your pseudo images
  to all that was and could have been,
here
  kept safe, protected,
 sheltered forever
  in the memory room.

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