Long Wreckage Poems
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The wheel of time churns the disarray dust,
settling on the unstable shelf of my lonesome life.
In the maiming moments of painful perturbation,
truth crumbles in the cauldron of confusion chaos.
My detached mind learns to emotionally disconnect,
cultivates the aspirant ability to evade attachment.
Repulsion frees me from the bond of attraction,
acerbic aversion forms within me a citadel of apathy.
As hard times strikes my private space
the boundless walls of the castle, seemingly impassable,
foil the foray of the outer world to my inner sanctum,
a cocoon of imposed isolation in blissful insulation.
I become a lone prisoner of my making,
captive behind the sensual walls of volatile pride,
find people disappear like mist beyond the horizon,
snap the unseen interaction cords of understanding.
When time comes to travel to the twilight zone,
the instinct of self-preservation dwindles in debris,
the walls collapse with the shattered senile senses,
getting buried in the wreckage of the broken antenna.
In the deluge of the surging river of life
Flooding me with devastating agony
I feel my senses sink deep within
With the debris of essence once ebullient.
As from the eroded bank of existence
I see my time disappear in the wreckage
I hear the distant bell toll relentless
Waft faintly in the still air, calling me.
And then the music of life gets silenced
In the broken violin I lose in an instant
Being submerged in solitude I hear the murmur
Of the sonorous stream within my soul.
As I search for me in introspection
I listen it whisper the swan song of consciousness
Resonating with the penultimate rhythm
Of my soulful melody of susurration.
Released from the clasp of karmic destiny
I transcend the limits of time and space
Yearning to embrace the perpetual peace
I beseech my soul to attain holiness.
Its pristine petals I see slowly unfold
Bloom the divine lotus of my spirit
Whispering God’s voice in the stormy night
The clouds of despair will disappear soon.
I plead let it light the candle of altruism and love
Radiate the gracious glow of God’s benevolence
Get liberated to fathom the infinite solace
Within quiet abode of absolute bliss in eternity.
In the devout sanctum of heavenly freedom
My soul will attain timeless euphoria of nirvana
The beauty of ultimate oneness it will behold
Merging with the supreme, never to return.
January 5, 2022
Contest : In Conversation With Our Soul
Sponsor : Unseeking Seeker
And in my dream I walk corridors with old creaking floors,
deep in the sanctum of my soul voices stir calling me to come;
and soon, I enter a hall of doors, doors and doors . . .
red doors painted bright, green doors with polished knobs.
Blue, deep and dark lovely blue, and varnished doors,
a heavy ornate church door, is ajar with beckoning hymns drifting;
one hundred year old doors with brass chimes- portals to long ago,
wide barn doors in antique grey, with open wide thresholds.
Doors with chipped white paint- oh my beating heart,
rounded doors, broken doors, some to push, some to pull;
through a long forgotten door- the wreckage of my life . . .
A door opens, new and polished- the entrance to where?
Closed doors, swinging doors, locked doors with a sign Do Not Open,
doors with steps, doors with brass keys dangling;
and doors with chimes, press here for access, my dear,
then, I see two doors side by side, a simple cedar door- a golden door.
Oh, I stand unsure, which door? I hesitate and then,
I put my hand on the knob of the golden door- Nirvana is beyond;
then, I open the simple cedar door, which takes me to the here and now,
and I breathe a sigh of relief, yes, this is exactly where I need to be.
______________________
March 24, 2017
Poetry/Prose Poetry/Doors
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9602-78-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
i saw your smile, then fell from grace -
plunged like Icarus out of the lofty skies
and traded that innocuous, frigid space
for the beautiful muddle in your eyes.
i watched my clean slate begin to fade;
the homespun, pristine virtues turn to dust
and fully embraced the holy wreck we made
out of a placid, fragile trust.
because heaven is a mere patient cage
of tediously slow hymns and blinding white
in comparison to this colliding rage,
this enchanting freefall through the night.
if planting my feet firmly against your skin
means that paradise is forever lost to me,
then, by all means, let my sentencing begin...
for I will wear the wreckage quite happily.
Within the fragile frame of my fervent heart,
tinged with the tinsels of the amorous night,
my love gleamed with a gorgeous glow,
swathed by the sequins of your enthralling elegance.
My heart draped by silver streaks of stardust sparkle
pulsated with the concerto of ecstasy crescendo,
where the beauty of your enticing identity I saw imaged
in the moonshine motif of my mesmerized mind.
You drifted away blowing a devastating storm of apathy,
my fervor lay fragmented in the wreckage of rapture.
The lattice of life seen through the turning languid lens
magnified into crooked contortion of your deceiving mind.
My yearning blazed in the inferno of your abandonment,
with the winged blizzard of winter the flame flew away,
morphing my mind into doused embers of the burned past,
piling up in the rubble of memory, wrapped by gloom of ash.
Unmet expectations demolished my emotive essence,
futile promises smothered the rays of fading hope.
Unkind words shredded the image of my mangled mind,
my life turned into an urn filled with your harsh feeling.
The scorched petals of my floral essence got dislodged
by the fierce dust storm of passionate perturbation.
The lacerated flower saw the dreams turn into debris,
created a kaleidoscope of silent emotional suffering.
In the seamless sky of my fervent yearning,
I let the enraptured songbird of heart soar high,
glide in the spring-rippled amorous breeze
that carried your jasmine fragrance to me.
The dulcet dawn splashed the spectrum of ecstasy,
blossomed the buds of my euphoric dreams
in the seamless domain of depthless desire.
I didn’t see the sandstorm slither in the slate horizon.
Travelling forlorn in the desert of a desolate life
in the maze of your deceptive dunes I wandered enticed.
I was seduced by your face behind the mask,
my morose heart turned into wreckage in your swathe.
I didn’t know where I was meant to be and to belong,
but tried to find a place in the oasis of your luring love.
I ended up becoming a dense dust in the wasteland
that blew away to the obscurity in the desert storm.
Under the scorching sun burning the façade of desire,
as I drifted desiccated across the dunes of deprivation
with the shifting sands of time designing myriad illusions,
I saw my destruction in the mirage flashing in your eyes.
Emotion engulfed by the raging sense of consternation
bewildered me by the confusing options of flight or endurance.
I submerged immobile within the state of stasis,
while the denial response shriveled my shattered essence.
As the sunshine days of delight ran out fast for me,
the twilight sky fell with the dismal night,
I didn’t forget that the cold sun sinks to ascend again,
inspiring the Phoenix in me to rise from the debris.
Through the billowing smoke thick and blinding,
I came out of the ruins, and saw the beauty life was.
Before the bruised conscience overwhelmed my broken soul,
I found the inner strength to bounce back self-controlled.
The moon would be a dull, gray rock without the Sun's light.
An opinion would be a thought without one's voice.
A man would be useless without a purpose.
So, all the men that stand before me are nothing,
as they brandish their swords;
squeezing the hilt like my throat,
constricting the words from it before they're even spoken.
My men were tethered to Earth,
they tortured themselves daily for fleeting escape.
My luminous glow was their temptation, their envy.
As I was the moon;
a quiet beauty that spoke volumes.
My men chip away at my craters, their shadow swallowing the Sun's last rays.
I am now a rock;
Stoic, rigid.
Ruthless. Ruinous.
The light drained from my now-hollowed features.
A merciless wreckage pounded into rock, hollowed from its light.
I talk to the sky, but the sky is empty
I tread the path, yet it twists and turns,
Seeking solace from the wreckage of shattered dreams,
Is there no one to be my anchor in this tempestuous sea?
I talk to the sky, but the sky is empty,
Empty,
Empty.
Will no one stay the course?
An anchor in the stormy ocean,
A tranquil shore with my name etched in the sands of time,
I have witnessed the rain,
Hissing as it strikes my rusted roof,
Exposing my soul to the elements,
Threatening to wash me away,
Perhaps cleansing my sins first.
I converse with the birds, but they echo only despair,
Like Persephone, bound to her fate,
I speak to the spiders,
But they weave webs of deceit,
Paranoia creeps,
Seeping into the madness within,
Ever-present, like a beast lurking in the shadows.
Will no one stay the course?
My mind is no plaything,
My heart not a carnival ride,
Yet I have been toyed with,
Breaking all the rules,
Lost at the crossroads of destiny.
I walk the path, but it is never smooth,
Addicted to the chemicals in my brain,
Though they are the source of my torment,
Like the hunchback in his bell tower,
Deformed by the weight of the world,
Crushed by the pressure of my own mind.
My mind is no plaything,
my heart not a carnival ride.
Will no one stay the course,
Be the voice from the heavens,
To assure me I will not sail the sea of destiny alone?
I talk to the sky, but the sky is empty,
empty,
empty.
Sometimes people feel as if
They’re living with a curse.
If you think about it, though,
Of course, things could be worse.
Life is filled with obstacles
And challenges adverse,
But when you stumble, keep in mind
That some folks have it worse.
Nature’s indiscriminate
When wreckage she’ll disperse,
Yet even if you’ve borne the brunt,
Things might have turned out worse.
Existence has one go-around;
We don’t get to rehearse.
Though critics gnash their teeth and howl,
Still, it could well be worse.
This little pearl of wisdom
Works in any universe;
No matter how you’re suffering,
There’s always room for worse.
For up until the moment when
You’re riding in a hearse,
We never know what lies ahead;
Misfortune may reverse.
In the realm of rails , where journey interwines , a tale of anguish, where destiny aligns.
At 7 on a beautiful evening , 7 minutes changed lives for a countless people travelling
A passenger train was caught in the calamity's grasp, as the Coromandel express, a name etched in time , hits the iron ore loaded goods train , inviting terror to clasp
Metal twisted , a deafening roar as lives collided , never to restore
Within fraction of second, the derailed coaches fell on the rear of the parallely pacing Bengaluru howrah express, a terrifying end .
A convergence of fate on a fateful track,
Where destiny dealt a cruel, merciless attack.
The trains collided with a thunderous roar,
Shattering peace and forever changing the score.
The screeching brakes and anguished cries,
Echoed through the night, reaching the skies.
In the wreckage and debris, lives were lost,
Leaving behind a painful, heart-wrenching cost
Yet amidst the chaos, heroes emerged,
Strangers turned saviors, their courage surged.
Together they toiled, the injured to save,
Risking their lives, humanity's bravest wave.
In the aftermath, the nation mourned,
The loss of lives, so tragically adorned.
But in the unity of grief, hearts were bound,
An unbreakable spirit, resolute and profound.
From the ashes of tragedy, lessons were learned,
To ensure safety, the embers still burned.
May those lost find solace, forever in our hearts,
As we strive to make the railways a safer part.
For in the sanctity of each journey we take,
Lies the responsibility, a commitment we make