Engrossed Poems

Ache is Beautiful

                   I carried so many wounds since childhood  -
                   all along, as my Mom behaved so rude.

                   Being deprived of Mom’s care - affection,
                    my childhood turned a curse: Shame to mention!

                 School happened to close on recess one day.
                 I went to a friend’s house to enjoy and play.

               Engrossed, I was not alert on time gap
               I reached home too late. Mom gave me a slap.

             Normal reception , but on next moment,
            She burst in tears which I did not expect.

              She wept and said ‘Where had you been my child?
              I was so scared to lose you, where to find?’

              That big slap turned nicest scar in my heart,
              though my mother always left me apart.
               
             I realised, behind her strong bitter harshness
              Motherly love somewhere flowing ceaseless .

               That’s my sweetest precious memory :
               Beautiful wound regarding Mom’s story.

The Joy Of Childhood

Finding your lost mittens in the school’s lost and found.
Playing with some puppies as they run and jump around.
Happiness on your first day at school in your new dress.
Your favorite swing when the bell rang for recess.

Thinking upon these things, a smile comes to your face.
When just before the ball got there, you reached first base.
Each one brought joy to your life, in its very own way.
Your experiences were exciting, each day.

It’s the life of a children engrossed in the folly,
Like the time you went downtown and rode the trolley.
Or sitting under a tree, your mind running free.
Thinking of places you’d go and all you would see.

You were always looking for a new place to go,
And every experience would help you to grow.

Ruled by Trees

I beheld the quaking aspen, shaking and gold
I quaked in resonance with the breeze
If you're young inside, you never get cold
Its recriminations that make your spirit freeze

I wept beneath the weeping willow
It felt like the right place to cry
Under its cascades I found a pillow
Had a sad feeling, didn't know why.

When autumn colored I found a burning bush
Its red leaves engrossed my mind
I was aimless; needed a push
A small voice told me which path to find.

The wind sounded eerie through the screaming tree
I thought of ghosts, and the sum of all fears
I looked for clues at the canopy
I learned life was not as it appears

They laugh when I followed the cedar and oak
then turn around to tie their ship to any fad
To be swayed by trees may be a joke
But following herd river is just as bad.

I'll take a subliminal hint from every tree
Can you trace your worldview from what planted the seed?
I'll go with botany, to some degree
You can go with the river; I'll go with this creed.

Travelling Light

Dedicated to Stuart A. Staples


I want to break someone's little finger
In three places

Give me strings on a hollow wooden body
Crumpled suits and apprehension

The warbler, the jongleur
The slur, the trill, the quaver

I can only serenade in that way
Without drop z tuning 

Barmonies and mashed taters
Send in the French horn

Alone in the living room
The air conditioner remote 

Engrossed and enthralled in the music
The dog watching me

The darkened sky stole my Tears

"The darkened sky stole my tears,"
replaced the heat of hurt with jewels,
specks of lunar-glazed silver dust, 
to see me sip rose-wine reveries of midnight,
where procrastinated promises
and dusky dreams of the heart linger...

Perhaps, I knew not my need ~
to be saved by the burning shimmers 
and silken shivers of your silhouette 
drifting through indigo azure in silence,
like flickers of love long veiled in  haze ~ 
      a reflection of nocturnal thirst.

If only you could undress your lyrical lens
to speak the unspoken ache
inscribed within infatuated ink  ~ 
hidden beneath cerulean hymns 
then I would not carve kohl lines, 
      of sleepless sighs lost to time... 

So unlock the garden of galactic secrets 
breathing within the soul of stars
twinkling russet tales of twin-flames. 
There I'll reside, where your voice ricochets, 
as the devoted black diamond ~ 
forever engrossed in dews of desire...

Something wrong

“There's something wrong with you”, 
They say as I watch the women's sports,
“There’s something wrong with you”, 
They say as I am engrossed by the girls walking in front of me,
“There’s something wrong with you”,
They say after I kiss a girl,
“There’s something wrong with you”,
They say to when I don’t wear a dress to the party,
“There's something wrong with you”, 
They say after I say I have a girlfriend
“There’s something wrong with you”,
They say after I cry after a breakup,
“There’s something wrong with you”,
And they wonder why I won’t talk to them like before,
“There’s nothing wrong with you”,
That’s why I am still with you.

fireflies

surfing through the midnight falls, 
engrossed in neon fireflies ~ 
a souvenir kissed by the moon...

Waiting

One day I'll open up the door,
And you will step inside once more.
"I've waited long, please understand!"
Like thunder in a clear sky's hand. 
Prepared for anything, I'd be,
With open arms to welcome thee. 
I'd hold you close, my heart elate,
And finally, I'd know true fate. 

I'll wait for you, though sense seems lost,
Your pure soul my mind engrossed. 
I know, within your gentle snare,
I’m under a spell beyond compare. 
Deep into this trance I dive,
As if under anesthesia, I thrive. 
Your phantom face with me does roam,
A tenant in my mind’s own home. 

When one day, in the morning light,
I see your eyes shining bright, 
From joy I’d freeze, so mesmerized,
At zero distance, so surprised.

Wings of Gossamer Sparks

"As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin." ~ Pablo Neruda

When the sky unfurls your silhouette,
like moonlight glazed in sequined haze,
I breathe the ache, cradle the air~
on tiptoes beneath quivering stars,
to taste poetry within your warmth,
free-flowing on the sighs of silence, 
where silken veins mirror tender dreams
of soulmates engrossed in rainbow mists.
But am I to remain a veiled verse, 
an irrelevant flame ~ a blemished rhyme,
as songs within your heart fall out of sync,
amidst paper promises, still forged in love,
beneath the wings of gossamer sparks,
            raining tears of memories...

Memento on the Moon

I blow smoke of dreams to daffodil streams,
beneath the sky, engrossed in love’s last sigh,
while this heart quivers, drunk on astral fever,
in the kohl-lined arms of the cold midnight,
                 kissing my soul in silver slivers…

O velveteen warrior, allow my gaze to trace lifelines~
sailing interstellar seas of electric stars
                     wrapped in whimsical wisps,
to leave our closing phrase on the lips of moon-haze,
as I breathe the silk of Luna’s wistful breeze~
   drawn from the rosy dusk of his restless repose...

And this pearl ~ the nebulous clarity ~ 
   emblazoned in pixelated poetry,
shall be the timeless spark of twin flames,
            amidst the pull of bruised-blue silence…

Old tree

Strong, large, and wide, an old tree stands firmly,
Though external forces bring ,vulnerability
It doesn’t fall apart, its soul stays alive.
Each ring carved in the bark,resilience and patienc it marks.
Wise as the internal sky, old as weathered rocks,
Like the ceaseless love and nurturing soil.
The golden rays scatter, dancing through the leaves,
A bustling canopy shelters all lives beneath
As time rushes, hollowed from inside,
Sapwood thins, and its vascularity fades,
But wisdom's height never counts the days,
The marks earned by nature are embraced more.
The older it grows, the more courage it finds 
to accept and let go.
Engrossed in the meaning of peace and life,
It waits for eternal, cozy, sleepy time

THE PROMISE OF POETRY

I wish you learnt me very well,
That is my only dream which to you-I could tell,
I will keep you engaged and will entertain,
All you need is how to write me and understand me- For certain.

I can make you get engrossed in me,
And can give you flowers for your heart,
I can reduce the pain in you for free,
And can love you to the fullest.

Come and create that bond in me,
I will not charge you any fee,
Let us enjoy this world together,
And I will for you happiness always  gather.

All you need to know is learn how to write me,
And enjoy my beauty,
I will give you all the happiness which you get when you write me,
And will follow my duty.

THIS POEM IS ABOUT POETRY PROMISING THE FELLOW HUMANS TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE IT AND ENJOY ITS BEAUTY, WHILE IT PROMISES EVER-LASTING LOVE AND AFFECTION FROM ITS SIDE.

A Moonlight Grifter

A grifter's mind with a poet's heart,
he wrote words that could tear you apart.
To capture moonlight, he made his goal,
but his songs came from cracks in his soul.

Sometimes he wrote of a sordid life,
of keeping his thoughts in words of strife.
Then, traded those words for stars instead,
as he followed paths where moonlight led.

Not one to study, yet books engrossed.
He was intrigued by words the most.
They seemed to leap from page to mind.
He took them and left a verse behind.

He had found the magic that occurred
within Earth's wonder, with but a word.
He took beauty from all he could see,
then left behind just his poetry.

A lone grifter, he was from the start,
finding his way, just playing his part.
Then found the words so lovely to see.
Touched our hearts, a rare poet was he.

Sphere

Closed in the jar of fantacy, Of my own utopian sphere, Where, In the hands of divinity all the complexions lie. The moral world with no misdeed. Here, domains don't get old, No fret and wonder what the future will hold. Life goes blissfully as butterfly, With every gleeful entities on earth. The sphere of eternal love and peace, same as beautiful ceaseless sky. Engrossed by the idol beauty of the sphere, I forgot about the real one. Suddenly, the jar of fantacy broke, As I realized and awoke

Dream

Dream
A call
Familiar
My brother’s voice
I follow its trail
I see him in a room
Brightly lit with many books
I look around with deep wonder
He holds a book and beckons to me
We’re engrossed until we’re lost in time’s trail


February 20, 2025.

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