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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
Drawing lines between shapes of grief
Going in circles, awaiting the lietmotif
Now just a side of a triangular run.
With defences up like the Pentagon.
Then finally looking Love square in the face
While Hope's line slopes down in disgrace
Calculating a Geometry too disjoint
For Love to have a basic point.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
It is when I search,
That I find.
And when I find,
That I realize how truly lost I am.
It is when I listen,
That I understand,
And when I understand,
That my own thoughts begin to confuse me.
It is when I look back from where I came,
That I remember,
And when I remember,
That I start looking forward again.
And,
It is when I question
The linearity of life,
That these Circles haunt me.
They haunt me
Again and again, and again.
Now I pause, and pray
That you do too.
And I ponder awhile,
For seconds - just a few.
But it is moments like these
In which my choices I bewail.
For it is moments like these
In which start becomes end.
And ends?
Starts, without fail.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
Memories of you talking,
Simply talking to me,
About your day,
About a new song you heard lately,
About how you like worn out jeans,
And how you fangirl over John Mayer.
Memories of you smiling,
That smile with your eyes,
Crinkling up,
Creasing,
Happiness.
Memories of looking for that flower from Italy.
Turning on the flashlight,
Searching for it on the road,
And finally finding it back in your room.
Memories of that night we never wanted to end.
Our last goodbye.
Our last hug.
Our last kiss.
An end we never saw coming.
You said 'Remember me and smile someday.'
And I do.
So now, with no talks,
No goodnights and goodmornings,
I remember you and smile.
With an irreplaceable warmth.
And I am happy
Like I was before.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
Dear child,
Do you see the lady in the red dress?
She has eyes like diamonds
Crystal clear, sharp, blue and shining.
And a smile that could
Stop your heart cold
And then, in a moment, bring it back to life,
She has hair that makes Niagra
Blush, and forget her own worldly wonders.
But darling dont be fooled,
For shes not gold,
Don't be fooled by Antimony.
Dear child,
Now you stare unapologetically
At the lady in the red dress
And chains connect the two of you at your ankles
Shackles of disguise
Do you walk as she walks?
Stroll as she glides?
Wait, dear friend,
Let me meddle some more.
Turn your freckled face my way
And listen darling child.
Do not be fooled for shes not gold
Do not be fooled by antimony.
Dear child,
I heard from the friend of a friend,
But you may suffice with just me.
The lady in the red dress is nought but a muse
And lures unwary travellers to fatal depths, foetal deaths.
You may think that you are a man of fifty-one
And flagellate your opinions of her to me,
To your family,
To your sisters and your brothers
But be aware dear child
For you are a mere embryo
And abortions do not draw tears from her gems.
So darling child,
Do not be fooled for she's not gold.
Do not be fooled by antimony.
Dear child,
Do you see the lady in the red dress?
You disregard all I say,
Just as I had feared.
Your eyes follow the grace of her hand
And the blood of grapes
She so elegantly downs
In most ritualistic manner
From most ritualistic crystal goblet.
Dear lord,
Pray that you are not hypnotised
But instead you pray that you may be the thread
And she the needle's eye
Yes, she is sharp
And polished and sews tremendous garments
Of Rage, Romance and Regret.
But darling child,
Do not be fooled for shes not gold.
She is not steel
Nor platinum,
Nor copper,
Nor bronze,
She is not even as simple as coal.
Nor is she carbon's other allotrope.
She is crystalline - true.
But as toxic as can be.
My lady in the red dress,
Dear child,
Is antimony.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
Not a blemish on your skin,
Not a mark,
Nor even a scratch,
Yet you tempt me,
Resent me,
Prevent me from Playing with my mind,
And agonizing my thoughts,
You ask me to draw,
To write,
To speak out my ideas,
To not be so disinclined to shoot.
My fair lady,
Our friendship is tough,
It is not as simple as love.
But, When we embrace
I forget
And My worries disappear
My thoughts begin to flow.
My heart begins to hear.
Then,
Then there is so much to tell you,
So many tales on my tongue,
So many memories on the run.
So My fair lady,
Why do You say you need more space?
Why do You ask me to find another?
And to continue our conversation with her.
Why do you say that you have had enough?
My fair lady,
Do you think that I bluff?
Look now,
In your presence I wonder
What I can possibly say or do.
I stare at you,
Quietly,
Admiring,
Appreciating,
Devouring,
Ruminating,
And yet silence is not your desire.
No,
Not tonight.
Tonight, You wish for words,
It is evident in your disguised beauty,
It is evident in your pale skin,
It is evident in how you shiver impatiently,
Fluttering as the wind blows,
Shining as the moonlight catches you.
You take a seat on the wooden table outside,
In the balcony,
In the icy air,
And wait for me to accompany you.
So My fair lady,
If that is what you want,
If that is what you need,
Then let me find myself
A pencil,
Or maybe a typewriter,
Let me find myself something
With which I may
tattoo your skin
With the prayers I pray.
Let me find myself something
With which I may
Engrave your side
With letters of Black, White and Grey.
Unless, I finally discard you,
Crumpled,
Wrinkled,
Used,
And yet of no use,
No longer plain,
But feigned,
Disdained
Inane.
Is that your fate?
Is that your fate
Or is it too late?
After all this thought,
After all this time
Will you simply be
A part of the heap
Into which nights have seeped?
Will you simply be
Chucked away?
Just like she was,
A writer's romance of yesterday?
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
Silhouettes ceased the day of pain.
They stooped over twisted remains
Of burnt bodies and of charred skin
Over Grounders, arrows, knives and kin.
And tears soaked the blackened soil
As Princess searched for abandoned Royal.
And a heart beat on pounded ribs.
Her own, perspired from the orders spit
Out to do what had to be done.
To murder three hundred, to save a clan.
To murder three hundred, to save a clan.
She shuffled out into the fragrant air,
Perfumed of blood, smoke, hibiscus tears.
And onto her knees she dropped and cried
The men were not hers, yet life she'd denied.
Timidly Thought echoed 'All was Fair'
For Death was a gift, raw and rare.
Yet Heart wept Regret and Regret
For what of their Children? And the pilfered pairs?
But as Spirits of men floated away,
Unseen by the Sky Princess, victor that day,
Chanted were prayers of sacrifice and strength.
Chanted were they in the villages and tents.
Chanted were hymns of Heroes fallen.
Chanted were they in vengeance, swollen. Chanted were stories of warriors charged,
Chanted were they, with prides enlarged.
And a Heart beat on pounded ribs.
Her own, perspired from the orders spit
Out to do what had to be done.
To murder three hundred, to save a clan.
To murder three hundred, with a heart of sand.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
To My Favourite Song
I loved you.
Every bit of you.
The highs and the lows.
And the little bits of character
That made me question
my existence.
Where the hell had you been all my life?
And that bright smile.
That chord you struck.
That beat.
That made me want to sing along and sing aloud.
And cut off from the world around.
That made me want to dance and then fall asleep, head in your lap, in front of pristine waters.
To my favourite song,
I loved you.
And should you ever reappear on my playlist,
Im sure there will still be remnants of that affection.
There will be memories,
Of car journeys spent looking out the window with the thought of you,
Of you in my mind.
There will be remnants of memories, of me telling my friends about you.
Of making them listen to you OVER and OVER and OVER again.
Until.
Until they loved you almost as much as i did.
Almost.
For 'as much as' was not a possibility.
To my favourite song,
I lost you over the summer
Deleted.
No more of your music in the mornings or before i shut my eyes at night.
No more of your comfort when,
When i was scared of anyone elses company.
I lost you when i least expected it.
I lost you when i loved you the most.
To my favourite song.
I know that just because, just because i cant hear you anymore,
Doesn't mean that you're not beautiful.
I'll? listen to more music, new music, and i may even sooner or later find another song to put on repeat.
A song I shall cherish too, maybe even more.
But
I know that you're still somewhere
Making someone adore you almost as much as i did.
Making me almost hate you for loving you so much.
And not being able to forget that feeling.
To my favourite song,
Take that tune of yours.
That rare unique melody,
And fly,
Like a free bird.
And should you reappear in my playlist,
Know that you have a place saved in my favourites folder.
Because there's always that little something about favourite songs
That you lost from your playlist.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
He greeted me when we met this morning,
No handshake.
Just a 'Hello'
And while we stood there,
In perfect stance,
I studied him a bit more.
He seemed calm, cool and collected,
And yet, his eyes revealed immature youth.
He seemed to care little of what others thought.
His half-hearted smile screamed in sooth.
He seemed innocent,
Untouched by a world of worries.
Happy-go-lucky,
Unaffected by a hell of hopes,
And atleast he tried to be a realist,
For every thought I thought.
But the colour of dreams,
Had left him stained,
Stained in shades only he knew to be true.
Stained in shades that captured me
Grew me wings, enthralled me too.
They trapped me,
Grappled with my everyday act,
And told me about the secret, unbreakable pact
That we once had made
A million memories ago
To 'Stay True and Be You'
Graffitied, college decor,
By two young boys,
With black hoodies donned,
In the mid of night,
Hiding from torches that shone.
And that was all I needed to know,
So I looked at him,
Before we got ready to go.
And as I turned away from the silvered glass,
We both nodded each other
Goodbye and Good Luck.
Out the door,
I stepped that morn,
With half a mask,
And half forewarned.
But I remembered that secret,
unbreakable pact,
Two young boys had made
With spirits intact.
And so I greet him when we meet each morning.
No handshake, of course,
Just a 'Hello'.
And while we stand,
In perfect stance,
I rediscover myself a bit more.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
I tread lightly on this gravelled road
And on the horizon I see
Lights, skylines to die for
Tantalized by beauty false
For distance rests between the door
And me.
And friends and brothers, enemies alike.
Pass me by, Their journey bleak
For their path is set, the common prime
Their path is set - this gravelled street.
And behind me walk a thousand more
Memories they can only be
Feet blistered by salty shores
Velvet red, but they dance a waltz
A dream of a dream, of Future
They see.
But, I tread lightly on this gravelled road.
Scavenging around for my Destiny
For distant illusions tempt me not.
The road is nought but larceny.
And empty benches line the path,
To the deaf and blind, they beckon and call
But Utopia has their senses wrapped
Too clear to see the hundred maps
That lead them from their agony.
So I wade away from this gravelled road.
To delve further, to simply be.
Present in the moment, I take a seat.
To listen to gravel, under two thousand feet,
To clap to the rhythm of their unified beat,
Dismissing the distance
Between the door and me.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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Rhiddhit Paul Poem
Let me write you a song.
You may dislike the tune.
And seek strain in the melody.
You may question the lyrics.
And wonder for better or for verse.
But let me write you a song.
Because I know you shall listen
You shall lend your ear
And relinquish your beats
To the very end.
And when I finish
You shall interpret the song
In ways unimagined, unheard of, unreal.
So if you wish for a song
Or maybe even if you don't
Let me write one for you
Let me be one for you
And I will do my best
To write in the truth
That eyes fail to see.
Copyright © Rhiddhit Paul | Year Posted 2017
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