Memories

It came to my mind

Like a piece of paper

Ripped out of a notebook

For safekeeping

Random words scattered

Across a battered little scrap

Revealed the power of the mind’s eye

A long forgotten world

Returned to life

Disjointed laughs

And the essence of voices

Grew into something more clear

Until faces and eyes

And long-forgotten lies

Sprang back into being

And from the trance

I knew all that I saw

Was the shadow

Of all that I lost

And I come back to the present,

Open my eyes to see

That what I was scared most of losing

Was still sitting in a chair before me.

Regret

An unwanted visitor,
      but willingly treated
Heavy chains
      on your heart are seated
Unvented frustration,
     dutifully greeted
Mistakes and double-takes,
      tightly plaited...

But the past is a worn out dress,
      Mistakes a torn up book.
Moving forward, undeterred, undeviating,
      Without a backward look

Searching for lost hope,
      in every cranny, every nook
One bright golden penny,
      in the fast-flowing brook.

A flicker, a shimmer, of sunlight in the sea,
      and happiness appears, like a huge library.

The First Rays Of The German Sun

[We just toured Europe- there was an early morning halt at Munich, Germany, and I am slightly in awe of that country, so bear with me (: ]

The Sun glittered like a jewel in the calm, clear waters of the sapphire blue German sky. It wore a symmetrical crown of fluffy white clouds, signifying its authority. No one dared question its authority, no one. Not the cold wind, nor the still air.

The giant fireball hung, a disco ball in the incredible lightness. Prisms of light cast like rainbows on what it looked down upon. The lush green sea-bed waved, bidding the first sunrays come, warming their hearts before the Lord.

[Hoping that this minute paragraph conveyed my feelings :) ]

In Colours

They are here. And there.
Look. Everywhere. Shut your eyes.
Look again.

You can see everything--
Shades of hurt, shadows of pain. Hues of happiness. And the colourful triumph of gain.

There are colours for everything...
I prefer thinking in colours.
 Here's the funda:

More happy = More Colours
Not happy = Monochrome

Think about it we have associated rainbows with happiness. Gloomy is practically synonymous with dull and grey.

Example I: Anger. Grrr! Anger is a bright scorchy RED.
But so is love.
Anger . Love. Both are fierce expression of passion.
Passion is deep. It is a burning ( fire, again red) desire. To achieve someone, something, or revenge.
Well, not a very good thing, but disharmony has taken on gargantuan proportions, and people are plotting schemes for revenge left, right and centre. It's only that most who desire revenge are, well, stupid to think they'll succeed. Because plotted revenge is NOT manly, cowardly (for those smart enough to fight, win, and then call it quits, three cheers for sweet revenge!).

Example II: Shadows. Secrets Lies. Twilight. All these are crepuscular. Grey. Shadowy (Hey! A shadow IS a colour. According to me at least). Murmurs and whispers, and just a silhouette of the truth.

Example III: Smiles are glitter. Rainbows. Colours. Brightness. Beautiful. Unicorns and roses, and true love (yup, her as well), and cloudless skies, and the sun shining bright. Floating on your back in the river and letting the cold seep into your clothes just so someone can hug you and wrap you up tightly in a blanket. Safety.

Example IV: Blue... Cool. Calm. Soothing. Harmonious. Mild. Breathing deeply. Serenity. Tranquillity. Unruffled, undisturbed. Placid, restful, still. Repose.
The blue sky. The blue sea. Water to drink, and air to breathe.
So, life.

*(And excuse that metaphor "I'm feeling blue") Don't feel blue. See? There's no colour for sadness.


Just one day. Just one, try thinking in colours. You'll have the time of your life. You will remain calm and you will be able to smile a secret smile just to yourself about the others' perennial 'redness'. :)

Death*

The sky is black tonight. Stars are blotted and squashed among each other. There is no moon.

There is a black shadow. The aura. Black with splotches of passion. Red. It loosens one soul there. One there. Peacefully sleeping little babies who have done nothing except smile and cry. Venerable old men in eye-glasses still reading in the study. Youth in the prime of life.

Now they don't breathe. The blood has rushed to the head.

The world is upside down.
Someone has found out. Tears speck the soil, as Death claims another soul for his own.

*

This was more peaceful:

This one beckoned Death closer.
"Take me away," he whispered.
"Save me."
        
Then there was no breath. No blood.

*

Not all of them are like this.
There was one.

She was strong. She kicked and she screamed, and flailed her disintegrating arms. She made a desperate racket.

She bled her passion and drank her fear.

But without an apology to the pathetic plight, her soul was forcefully yanked. From the top.

Now, she was really out of mind.

As her soul entered one of Death's dark pockets, he saw into her mind.
It was golden. It was beautiful. It smelled of possible greatness.

But all was done. Over now. Game over.

*

I'll tell you. How does it feel, you ask. I'll tell you.

It's a long, black, slithering, slippery slide. You can't think. It's just memories. Of the time that has fluttered by, quietly as a butterfly. The thought process becomes increasingly languid.
The slide, its almost alive. Its judicial in the number of bumps you feel. They are just as many as you felt when you breathed.
Deeply.
Then you land.
Brace yourself when the time comes.

*

Death is cynical. Sceptical. Death is splendid. He scotches life. Dreams. Ambitions. But Death is also fallible. The paltry amount of fairness he possesses remains unused. He has taken utmost pleasure in every ray of the pallid light emitted my a dying soul. The sepulchral air he breathes in and out is riddles with the rattling breath of his captives.

*

Excuse me for the aloofness. Such is the calm he brought over me. Such is the placidity, straightforwardness I am blessed with. Or is it 'cursed with'?
I leave it to you to decide.

He cradles me snugly, sings me a lullaby. 'Eternal sleep', they say.
Me and my undead companions dream in peace.
Yes, we dream.
★
Death, I had awaited you.

The Beauty Of Childhood

My class had this English Language internal assessment test, and we had to write a poem-- on the spot. My topic was something about childhood. We had this mandatory first line, so its lousy, but I like the rest :)

*

"The days of childhood are the best of all"
But they fly away like the beautiful leaves of fall,
Rustling and crackling beneath our feet,
They melt away like snow and sleet

The Sun shining on our backs,
As we make castles out of sand
The waves lapping at our feet,
As knee-deep in the sea we stand
Running as the tinkle of the ice-cream van sounds,
Tripping, and laughing; and dancing around.

And so the days passed, and the nights came,
And in the stars were the lanterns that were memories

My First Limerick :)

So there I was, getting utterly bored while the teacher droned on and on, so I tried my hand at a limerick... well, since writing limericks is not supposed to be very easy, I'd consider my first one acceptable. It's funny alright, if you, you know 'get' it. Enjoy XD

There was once a little boy named Matt,
Who once sat on a gnat,
         Since then his tushie,
         Had a big, big blushie,
And never again could he sit on that.

:)