Silver line

 

Silver paths aglow in the night,

Hallow the journey lit by moonlight,

Loose is the wind; heavy and drunk,

In the abyss of dark, all has sunk.

 

In the midst of commotion,

She glides like a notion

That creeps quiet into a pensive mind,

And moves out before one can a reason find.

 

Her words ring like wind chimes,

Her voice, the sound of sweet rhymes,

Often at night, she breaks into a dance,

Imperfect rhythm but lyrical romance.

 

With time, she grows restless,

Her heart and mind listless,

She awaits a known cold breeze,

To let once her suffering cease.

 

…

Clamour

 

 

Tonight  the mirror of the skies,

Will fill the sight of her hazel eyes,

Even the clouds offer a soothing cover,

Hushing quiet her amorous power.

 

The winds stand guard, they let not a whisper,

Guileless, yet they err to kiss her,

The skies rebuke; spread a dark pall,

Slowly yet mightily – a darkness envelops all.

 

Her smile calms the deathly dance,

Suddenly the skies have fallen in trance,

Her eyes lit up as the moon reappeared,

And slowly the hazy night skies are cleared.

 

…

Quitter

 

 

He pauses in the twilight, a distant motor chuckles,

Fate is tending gingerly now, bruised bloody knuckles;

A blow to the soul, that knocks the air out,

Wounds bleed crimson; cuts let out a shout.

 

Where does one turn, when one’s own sides

With narrow minds, hollow words and ego rides?

What does one do when infinite seems less,

When neglect is tendered as memories fess?

 

High tides on shallow shores engulf him whole,

Self bears an ugly form of his embattled soul.

Floating; he strikes worn out boulders,

Sinking careless; burdened shoulders.

 

Resigned to fate, the will to live ceases,

Body numb, turgid; the turmoil increases.

The ride is ready; the charioteer – meth,

And mind has a tryst with uncommon death.

 

…

Over coffee..

 

 

Patient eyes overlook crowds in the stands,

She cares not for the passage of time,

No noise, no chaos could tremble her hands,

Purity – irony, in the midst of the grime.

 

Her silken hair cascades down either side,

A tender twosome tuck them in place,

She leans, resplendent with prime light,

Rays aglow, only to caress her face.

 

Beauty unaware, truly, is beauty pristine,

Robed in humility, streaming allure,

Her gestures effortless, her grace unseen,

And a smile that urges one to endure.

 

She pouts to place a cup on her lip,

Lifting the coffee in her clasp - warm,

Eyes hesitate; she takes the first sip,

Her face aglow, as little joys swarm.

 

…

Stronger by the mile

 

 

Miles run behind me, my path is ablaze,

They break me, my speed; your memories, your face.

Hours on the road alone, not a moment of solitude,

Seeking to bind shattered pieces of fortitude.

 

With every surge, machine and heart compete,

Faster with each turn, run rivers of concrete,

Greenery whizzes past, I cannot a thought spare,

Lest nature catch up, showering pretentious care.

 

Two friends share my burden, the road and my steed,

Echoes of warnings and wisdom I never did heed,

They stand by me quiet now, not a word all this while,

Growing silent and wiser, with every passing mile.

 

I run out of misery, but the road never ends,

Complete in support, till time made amends,

Resolute in spirit now, pain does not show,

Mile after mile, wisdom and strength grow.

 

…

Enduring will

 

 

Shrouded hilltops with layers of mist,

The sun now renders an ominous glow,

The greatest love, old stories insist,

Stem from the will to never let go.

 

He stands still, basking in God’s downpour,

Face - resolute, he can afford not a fail,

Rooted in belief, he is planted on the floor,

That with passing time, is seeming frail.

 

On the other side, look up eyes of hope,

She knows not the test he has embraced,

A wild heart; she watches bird flocks elope,

With a lull in the pour, clear air surfaced.

 

Their time is now, his heart consoles,

Stand strong; for it is the will to hold on,

When shards of pain pierce insoles,

They take you on paths lesser mortals scorn.

 

United by this hill, separated as well,

Two beating hearts cry out as one,

With passing hours, the rain does not quell,

Love clouds have mellowed the wrath of the sun.

…

SDMIMD

I wrote this poem 2 weeks back on our Director’s insistence. Too bored to send it out individually to the ones who asked for it, so posting it here. IMD’ites, do tell me what you think of it! (if you’re reading this anyway)

 

 

Sylvan trees here stand by the tread,

Standing by the hearth of her welcome bed,

Pristine is her manner, calm is her face,

Robed in grey, she stands in grace.

 

At her heart of power sit minds of vision,

Sagacious, strong, they work in unison,

Further still now, stands her talent table,

Open to all souls, willing and able.

 

Teeming yet quiet lies her wise mind,

Books of all ages, adorning bind,

Spines bear prints of fingers that ran over,

Desks let time pass by much slower.

 

The canteen bustle, the rattle of plates,

Unaware of the hand dealt out by our fates,

Seeking wisdom found in books borrowed,    ##(Borrowed lines from one of my prev poems!)

Over piping cuppas, and minds harrowed.

 

She stands by it all, ever unfazed,

In her grey gown, that greenery has laced,

She is my alma mater, my guiding light,

Now and forever more, I’ll be a IMD’ite!

 

…