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Best Poems Written by Preet Luthra

Below are the all-time best Preet Luthra poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Preet Luthra Poem

Yearnings of a Renegade

The echo of a dreadful night cannot contain a valorous heart
The searing blood in a warrior's veins does not succumb to a vanquished heart
The clashing of swords, gory and raw do not sway the mighty "outlaw"
She charges deep into the dawning war with strands of darkness glistening under the waning star

Thoughts of her faith she finds futile
For who can make the brave abide
Her heart that streaks with mutiny and rebellion 
seeks only for a fellow Sneer

A renegade at birth, she wanders on
Finding peace she suspects will slip through her claws 
The brown of her parched skin glistens as the dark embraces her flaws 
She flourishes under the night's indifferent maze
and comes alive under the moon's sliver gaze 

She longs for an invitation to a land far-off
with water that soothes her war ridden heart
A traitor, rebel and a renegade to her own
she wishes to be a lover in a warrior's home town

To at last find the peace that her heart longs 
And satisfy the cravings of a heart that's been reeking of betrayal all along
She whispers her yearnings to the Full Moon
and hopes her prayer will come through soon.

Details | Preet Luthra Poem

A Daughter's Wounds

They say that women were meant to endure
And so i endured a thousand slicing words from my father
Words, that prickled like needles being tugged into wooden boards
Words that ruptured much more than my soul

I still remember that fateful Sunday two years ago
Papa, when you barged into my room
That day what did I not endure?
A wooden stick, several punches, a slap or maybe two
You think the harm was only physical
But papa, you broke much more than my bones

You broke the trust I always suspected mother never had in you
You broke the unwavering grin with which a little girl looked at you
You sliced in two the heart that you were meant to soothe

They say that two years is a long time
But I'm stuck, immovable and paralyzed on my room's floor tonight
while you're away making your millions
I'm stuck with the memories that still rot the insides of my mind

Were you stressed? 
Was it the employees at work?
I've tried making a thousand reasons 
But none answer the question : why me?

And so while I lay awake through sleepless nights
Trying to make sense of it all by bleeding my tears into poetic rhymes
I wonder yet again
Papa, did you torture our relationship to the edge of death that it may never be the same?
I never intended to hate you but look at this spiraling mess we've made.

Details | Preet Luthra Poem

Horrors of Autumn

Why must autumn take me back to the sunshine days of my love?
Love, non-existent now
Buried in the depths of the ground
like someone throws away broken pottery, our love has been trudged and treaded on 

Why must autumn bring with it gusts of your musky smell?
The same fragrance that takes me back to your neck, 
The fragrance I had willed myself to forget

Autumn was the month of decaying beauty
Of oranges and reds ,rusted browns 
And now I cannot even look out the window
Without the biggest frown

Autumn now is nothing but the painful reminder of lost romances, of kites struck down before they got the chance to fly
Of blue birds, now buried under the soil
That once mastered the skies

Autumn is now nothing but the reminder of my wounds
That I hide under my blood red armour
Of pain and loneliness
Of soldiers dying all alone
And so, the little girl that loved when the trees started turning red
Has grown to dread the very sight of blood gushing out of her hand.

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The parallel life of a woman



              To be a woman:
              Is to search your father's missing love in stranger's beds
              To live life scrambling for love
              Yet hating every moment of it
              To crave gentleness, yet run at the sight of it
              Such is womanhood,
              in its adequate inadequacy.

                - The parallel life of a woman

Details | Preet Luthra Poem

The Sun

There are nights still 
When I long to call his bed my own
Lying under his multicolored lights
With him as my only home

Those lights shone as bright and colorful as the shades of auroras I could peak in his sunset eyes
Back when those eyes used to shine for a smile like my own

That hard rock chest, who's texture I still remember as if it were my own skin
There are nights still when I wonder of the hilarity of it

His skin might be far from reach
But the memories seep into my stream as if they made the compounds of my own blood
He might be all skin, but his touch made my spirit burn anew 

His scent comes and goes while my soul screams
As if he were nothing but a figment of my lucid dreams
Real enough that you think you could catch them in the palm of your hand
But fickle enough that they slip right through the gaps in your fingers

There are nights still
When I find my soul floating through the air in his room
Remembering the bed, the lights, the mirror and now the birds who's cage he cannot help but poke through

There are nights still
Nights like this one, when my body craves his own
Or maybe its my heart that calls his name

Right until the morning, till I see him shine through the windows
The same shade of gold as his skin, for his name means the Sun...

But alas, even the Sun must set.

Details | Preet Luthra Poem

Wilting Flower Petals

                                       Wilting Flower Petals
I count the men that leave me like a child would count wilting flower petals
Dried up, bereft of color and soul, that's how the petals leave the flower, all alone

Life seems to be a drifting montage 
Predestined and premade, I have no control over it
Just as the flower sits away, silent and silenced 
as the children pluck the petals away.

Details | Preet Luthra Poem

Born Anew

All so suddenly the weather starts hitting a little harder than usual
Just like that the rains don't drip of heartbreak and loss anymore
And when one glances up at the trees
they dance in the bracing winds that smell of clandestine feelings creeping in slowly

The silver moon shines brighter than usual tonight
Maybe it has sensed the change of seasons

And when I stand under the majestic night tonight
The wind howls in my ears and pleads my hair to wave him goodbye
And under the whimsical silver beam of the moon,

Tonight I'm born anew.