Poem: The Fog

I woke up to a mystical morning
where shadows were still in play,
Up in my bed, I was mourning
the death of my sleep early in the day.

Unsteadily and slowly, I moved towards the sill
of the window which remained unwashed;
Outside, everything seemed eerily still
and the in my mind, a thought crossed.

Perhaps it was not the dirty glass,
it must be what lurked outside -
A chill white mist or a fog that would pass,
- just Winter's attempt to play 'Seek and Hide'.

But then, away from the window I turned
and tried to look beyond my bed,
A white darkness was all I discerned
for the fog was in my eyes instead.

Poem: Love

Not a thing would I want to change

about this beautiful moment we share

this moment seems so strange

yet we feel so aware

In your eyes I see a part of me

In which I see a part of you

for together we will be

till death parts us in two

Nay, even death won’t do us apart

because what we share is much stronger

it is not about the mind but about the heart

and these feelings last longer than the longer

Yet the inevitable remains inevitable

just like how our love remains the same

our minds may range from stable to unstable

and yet we will be a part of the same game

No matter what, who, where, when, how, why, we are

we will know, oh yes, we will

that together we shall forever be

since together is one still.

Poem: Paradox

Lost, we are, in our own little heads

With our aims and hopes falling high;

Just as one bright dream slowly fades,

Another, we gain, only to lose again with a sigh;

Out, we seek, in this artificial land of reality

– A paradoxical ‘wonder-less’ wonderland –  

In search of self-discovery and clarity;

However, we fail, and we sail in sand.

Fear, we do, of life and death and all else unknown;

For life answers questions of which we are unaware

And death questions all the answers we had known.

Nonetheless, we die and live a lie, accepting the dare.

Seek, we must, within our limitless soul

For a truth that underlies all those lies

which fill the emptiness and make us feel whole;

Yet, we will yearn to unlearn, as we wish to be wise.

And seek, we must, within our limitless soul

To escape from this paradoxical wonderland;

A world built at the back of our mind’s black-hole,

One that we don’t still, and never will understand.

Blog temporarily not active.

But you can still feed the fishes. 

Poem: Live and Let Live

I once knew this irksome colleague
who on my first day at work, said
“Girl, this job is way out of your league”
and asked me to leave instead.

Why? I wondered, ‘I barely know this guy!
What does he have against me?’
My assistant at length chose to reply
and told me the whole story.

“Ma’am, you see, before you came
to work for this renowned newspaper,
that man you met the other day – his name
…pardon me, I don’t remember –
had burned the candles at both ends
for the post of Editor-in-Chief.
Alas! The boss instead recommends
your name for the post, to his grief.”

Later, however, I began to realize
that it did not end just there.
The reason for his strong despise
was neither legit nor fair.

The reason why he hated me more
than the men who held the post before
was because I was no man at all
but a woman – which made me ‘small’.

My mother once told me to live and let live
regardless of gender, beliefs or race.
Sadly, not all were taught to give
regard to everyone’s grace.

Wrote this for the Big Idea WizKid 2014 Poetry writing competition. 

The Fishes Are Back!

Good news. They got back home. The Fishes, I mean.

They had gone for a walk and lost their way back. A kind friend helped them find their way back to the blog. However, only eight of them returned.
(Or maybe, as the kind friend pointed out, there were only eight in the first place)
Anyways, Yay. They are back. :)

Ok Bye.

Poem: Rumination

Music helps me open the doors
to those mystical realms of clouded memories
in the concealed chambers of my mind;
even if it is only a glimpse through the crevice
formed by the push of those musical notes
and only a faint scent wafts through
towards the surface of my consciousness.

That feeling in my heart that so expresses
a joy and sadness beyond compare
with a burst of deep-rooted insight,
just like how a gush of fresh air is to man
resurfacing from the depths of a sea;
a perplexing blue that drowns away
that elation in a flash, just as quick as it came.

Once again I pluck the strings, in my yearn

for that singular most sensation in me;
a desolate note now being struck, for
as I plunge back and the doors close,
all that hope drowns away in a drone
of the so-called reality engulfing my world
– a drab place to which I feel no belonging.