Walk of Life

A little about the walk of life will be told,

The scent of which is inherent in all,

Wherever will be the sound of the music,

You will paddle through waves like a moment ago.

 

Well touched and written about it are books,

Often what seen and felt is never forgotten,

And set inside the travelling heart of all,

Are values, gifts and laughs all round the horizon.

 

One peels off the bad lucrative chin of thoughts,

Lands in the dustbin of forgotten memories,

There where no side is taken, none borrowed,

Lies the sight of God in its full glimmer.

 

Look back don’t you, pass over the present,

Like a clean, shiny mirror speaking nothing but truth,

That one won’t die without a word in the mind,

Of chances there aren’t to forget their’s.

 

So drunken in silence I’m today, out loud my ears heard,

I can’t let go off my veil before the shine of tomorrow,

I rest calm on my bed journeying around the world,

So damn is the challenge, takes nothing but me after all.

 

To the walk of life, I stay stiff still sleeping in the noon,

Watching and crying over elasped moons,

To the age of wisdom, bold and powerful,

I arrest my attitude, laid back and laggard.

To where I scrupled before attending a thought,

So bleak in diffusion and slow to arrange,

Wild ideas, opinions and life of mine’s,

But here in stays slowly to create a sense of change!

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Making Me Small

Wondering down the memory lane,

With my both eyes blinking in awe,

I send some sharp sickles to the past,

Trying to look after the young age, of course.

 

It’s evening it seems like looking out of the window,

When will my heart open to know what there is outside?

And if I know better than what I know now,

Will it ever seem to make a difference?

 

Hitting the road hard with constant thump of foot,

I recall myself making my weight large.

While I sneak as soft as I could in those eyes,

Those small shades of truth make me feel hollow.

And then I take alarm of a chance,

That once taken will never be repeated,

But then of course, lies and deceit is all that I do,

And make sure it doesn’t make sense at all!

 

I appear in the light of today,

Glistening by the charm of my words,

I bend before my virtue as I do,

Not make a chaos towards a different truth.

 

With little mind of mine wailing to see a tomorrow,

Calling it a day where future is foreseen,

Thanks if I don’t pay attention,

To the offer of the world of making me small.

Together

Taking a nap I’ll move,

If I’m little more inspired to.

Wincing on the words I prayed with,

I’ll pull my sleeve and bear the cage!

 

 

Strutting down the winter woods,

With friends and foes chattering together,

I’ll lead with colour white on my face,

And let them paint me with their words I say!

 

 

Below the grass I’ll lie,

And ask why I be the light in this darkest time?

Then meddle with the purest of the past,

And weave the cool calmness of today as the untruth!

 

 

I’ll not laugh it’s easy enough,

And put the words in other’s mouth.

I’ll end these worthless words in this way,

Within this little bower of today’s togetherness!

Still Sleeping

Where is the air to rest our nose on,

Is it there where I’ll go easy on the dink of life?

 

An internal look is essential to fill this blank paper,

Or else with these breaths I’ve, I’ll be nothing.

To sleep would a mistake less acceptable,

More will be abiding by the hidden rules of the world.

 

There I’ll walk and stop at the top,

And will see a time going by my side.

Pleasure if I’ll be mine and I write what I want,

To fill this idea of break free, let it not!

Of chances will never come again to smile,

And get smile for your great work done again!

 

Beginning from if I go, somewhere I please,

And keep on going and creating distance,

Till I won’t know what will be therein to happen,

Till I lose a heart so weak of mine,

A time rotten with ample of shine,

A little step ahead to where I’ll end,

Or a buffer pushing to look for more,

I’ll not know what will happen.

And that will be the beauty of it.

 

But what to know and what to hear,

You don’t but I see,

I’m still sleeping.

Way I Sound

Way I sound close and near, so calm,

Way world heard and narrated, so loud.

The show want me to say hard, and speak,

Let freedom set trends big and clear.

Not easily composed the time, it went questioning,

Again and again, those limits strained.

Limitless close to fear and dared to hate,

Life went short and high in meanings.

Not was my way nor did I say it should be,

But it flowed and never paused.

I set trends, one after the another,

It was me, all in me, all unclear.

Now I stepped into the world so new,

That millions words won’t enough be.

Straight road I murmur, it will see,

An end, a winner and a reward all clear.

I Shall Go! 

To Make It Harder, I Shall Breath.

​This place,

I shall keep it warm,

And I shall not go, till it gets dark. 

First day,

Summers those were, 

Stinking summer was I .

I stepped into oblivion, 

Lifting the oblivion aside. 

I learnt to live, 

Learning was living itself. 

And I shall laugh now, 

For all learnt and all lost. 

You were there,

I feel those bumps, 

Your voice gave me.

I learnt you were mine, 

But never meant for mine. 

Last day,

It’s that day again, 

Stinking summer besides. 

And I shall laugh now, 

For that single glance you gave.

I saw it not, 

To keep it alive in mind. 

This time shall learn, 

You were meant for mine. 

I hear people laugh, 

See them cry. 

It’s what they learnt,

Meant for dying. 

I shall not believe,

What I see.

To make it harder, 

I shall breath. 

You,

And I shall follow, 

What’s in me.

Will that keep me, 

On dangers hollow? 

Still I’m here, 

Waiting. 

Mind that, 

I shall not wait, 

Forever. 

Tomorrow shall be mine, 

You shall come. 

Else I won’t be here, 

This dark will come. 

~ Yetesh Sharma @thewritersage

Brain

Hell, we are fooled,
Yet again,
By our ticky old foe.

He’s writing this text,
With his touch on the screen.
He’s watching the blank space,
Like a red bar waiting to turn blue.

Curious he sounds,
Blinking his eyes and smiling.
He’s fooling others,
Thinking he’s fooling.

To change his destiny,
He rather got guts.
But, he’s waiting,
To end this poem.

He relieves off his words,
Sprinkle it all across virtual space.
Still, believe someone’s there to watch,
And hids in himself a sham.

He’s admant,
To not to end this poem.
Because he’s not imaginative,
And like those poets in the ocean.

He hails from mud,
That’s why he knows nothing.
He is just walking,
And fooling everybody.

For all that he sees,
It’s all there for good, he knows.
And yet he keep seeing,
The good at all times.

At some word, this poem needs to end,
He knows that too.
Still he keeps on composing,
Like it’s creating a meaning.

He was an empty bowl,
Dried by intense sun, his water.
Nobody is there to slap him,
For all curiousness he had.

Maybe he had lost it all,
That’s why he is just composing it right.
And isn’t in a mood to end this all,
He is lonely basketball player.

He is clapping,
Maybe some curiousness still awaits.
He is all there for himself,
He points it all this time.

All remixed, replenished once again,
In an utter new time.
For a memory he had hasn’t faded,
It’s vivid like a volcano fire.

He’s panning out,
To take a flight, rather to walk.
And forget everything he once had,
To let not devoid anymore.

He convinces his peers,
To shut this poem off.
And he won’t post this poem,
Because bokeh is never fake!