Devil's Carnival

How would you run from what's inside?
The broken swings,
And the abandoned dolls,
The carousel turns with the flickering lights,
The horses moving up and down,
To the macabre music,
dances the smiling clown, till the morrow.

How would you run from what's inside?
Your own darkness,
a comforting blanket.
The songs of defeat and pain,
Turn into the bugle announcing
The vanquishing of your sorrow's rain.

Trapdoors

Trap doors everywhere,
One wrong step
Abysmal despair.

Climbing up the stairs
Look behind
No where to go; vertigo.

Warm hands reaching out,
Skeletons of the past,
Pulling you down.

Clear water springs in here,
Mirages they are,
They disappear.

Kind soul,
Arms spread wide.
Only to choke you,
In the dead of the night.

Glitter Gutters

What do they care about us?
Those who walk the nights,
Covered in glitter
And smelling of inebriation.
What do they care about us?
Us with the broken hearts
Us who are so close,
Yet miles apart.
What do they care about us?
Us, who cry into the pillows
Wishing they would know.
Us, who wall the tightropes of sanity.
What do they care about us?
They, who feed us sweet lies
They, who never said goodbye.
What do they care about us?
As our emotions translated into physical pain,
Our innards burning and our brains screaming,
As we peep through our covers, hiding our tears.
But what do they care?
As long as they're all fine and good,
And we're there for the bad days.
What do they care about how they kill us?
What do they care about us?

Toy Soldiers

As much as it hurts,
We are soldiers.
We mask the pain with bandages and expired morphine,
We wear masks on our faces,
If only there were bandages for the soul.

Last Stop- Paradise

Where do we go when we die?
Is it truly the last goodbye?
Do we become stardust again,
Or the essence of rain?
Do we become wistful memories,
Or the sweetness behind pain?
Do we become the grey beneath the colour,
Or the winter behind summer?
Or is it the other way around?
Do we go to the places beyond the horizon,
And fill the gap between the moon and the sun?
Is it us behind that double rainbow,
Or hiding in that evanescent firefly glow?
Do we truly even die?

Question Marks

Can I look into your eyes?
Could I prepare a boat to sail uncharted waters with you
and smile, even as we drown in them?

Can I peer into the other side;
the side you hide behind your soul’s windows,
tainted by things of your past.

Will you open them for me?
Will you reveal your demons to me,
as I try to unlock this door you hide behind?

Can I touch you?
Can I write our story on your skin,
as I talk you to sweet slumber?

Can I feel your heartbeat?
Can we sync it to mine?
And as you slowly kiss me,
Can I look at the sky and thank the divine?

You sat on my bed
the sunlight dancing off your face
as you asked me,
‘Why do you like question marks?’
And I replied,
‘I don’t really know, but I think it’s because I like wonder.’

Can I take a photograph?
And show you how happy you looked when you laughed
as I tickled you that lazy December afternoon,
 despite all the uncertainty we find ourselves shrouded in.

Can I reveal to you,
though it’s as childish as it seems,
that whenever we cross roads together,
I always feel like we’re going on a marvelous adventure,
Some faraway land, an island?
Or maybe the pizzeria next door,
wherever it may be,
I’d go on a thousand adventures with you,
and write them on this coffee stained paper
and sleep with all those memories in my head.
No matter where.

~For the Poets United prompt- Design

The Typewriter

She sits with panache,
looking out the window.
The sunlight peeping in,
through veins in the sky
Crossed legged, in a snug sweater
and coffee in hand,
she blows over the cup.
A lonely typewriter sits on the rosewood table
the scent of antiquity attached to it.
It longs for fingers to run over the keys,
to let flow the black ink,
to tell stories.

She steals a glance at it,
"Come to me, Come,
Write something. Write yourself."

She hides behind her commercialized coffee mug,
with the standard silly coffee table slogans scrawled over it.
"But I can't think of anything to write.
I'm running dry, dry, dry.
I feel empty."

She looks over at the typewriter again,
that old pal, waiting patiently.
"Write about the emptiness.", it whispers.
She walks over, cautiously
Like a curious infant
at the sight of something wondrous.
Gingerly sitting on the chair,
She runs her hand over the keys.
She writes.
No pause.
No interval.
She wrote.
Her dog resting at her feet.
Calm and quiet at the knowledge,
his master is revitalized.
She takes out the finished paper and smells the ink.
"I love you grandmama"
She looks at the typewriter and says, teary eyed.

Note: Writers always have had a seemingly eternal love affair with Typewriters,for some strange yet comforting reason.

Girls Don't Cry

“Turn your face and wipe those tears”,

Papa said to me.

“Girls don’t cry.”

“You don’t cry, my love.

You don’t shed those tears for those
not worthy of it.

You don’t cry a waterfall
For those who don’t say your name
With the same honor as you do.

Girls don’t cry
You don’t cry away nights,

For things that were never meant to stay.
You don't owe anyone anything,
and you dont have to do what they say.

But most of all

You don’t cry for anyone
Because you are sui generis

Your tears are not worth the
jeers and the mockery.

Girls don’t cry

For your smile, they do not deserve
if they can’t love you for you.”

He holds me in his arms
and looks me in the eye
and says,
“You are more than what you think you are.
You are the past, present and future.
You are my poetry and my story,
you are the words I chose to write my life in
you are your mother’s skin and my bones
you are the pearl hidden in the oyster.
Seize the moment, dear child.
For if you are afraid of falling,
then don’t paralyze yourself,

Don’t be paralyzed!
for we are all murderers
in a victimless crime.
Fall, fall, fall,
and  the stars will catch you in their infinite fabric of time.
And I will catch you if you falter in your climb.”

I wiped my tears and after that,
I never cried.
I vowed to him
that I will emerge victorious
Maybe bruised, maybe cut
Maybe sunburnt,
maybe hurt,
But, I swear,
I will emerge victorious
through this illusionary snare.

Imbroglio

Where have all those days gone?

When we wove blankets of dreams

and slept in them,

dreaming of only happiness and

chewing gum.

Where is it lost?
maybe in all those years of mundane living,

where all we heard was lies

to evil we were unwary,

evolving from diamonds

to people with dark hearts

but a countenance placid. 

Placed in this imbroglio

closed in by walls of structure,

those bubbles of dreams

pricked by the pin of doubt,

they ruptured.

Where did we lose ourselves?

maybe in those numerous streets we walked,

with dark alleys on one side

and bright lights on the other,

where survival stripped us naked

of our dreams

and all we had left were

trench coats and bad decisions.

A Tell-Tale Song

I take my pen
and write this down,
a melody
a tell tale song
I wish you're here
to read this now
this one's for you
so hear this out,
how your thoughts
plague me night and day
your voice
your touch
those happy days
I used to be a locked up box
but now you seem to have the key
I've opened up
you opened me?
But this strange feeling
grabs my throat
its unfamiliar
and all unknown
I shrivel up
I've become cold
but then you come
I fear no more
But alas,
a petty coward am I,
I wrap my feelings
in shadowed lies
unable to come and tell the truth
that I only wish
you love me do.

Note: Oh good God! What is wrong with meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I wish you knew (yet another experiment)

She looked at him,
as if he was real
but he was
was a chimera after all?
She tried to touch him
but he was only her imagination
after all?
"Give up"
she said to herself
here I am miles away
wishing he would know
how I feel?
Never felt love before
how can I tell?
to think from the heart
or to bind myself
to the realms of possibility
Pragmatism?
She looked at his vision
as he began to fade away,
she pursed her lips and said
"I wish you knew."

Note: Too many poems with a lot of feelings eh? :P please bear with me :D Hahaha

Blessings

Blessed I am
for mother & father
who went through the shadows
to lead me to the light
Blessed I am
for the little black hound
who though majestic & proud
plays around
Blessed I am
for the beauty of the world
offering happiness
even when cloudy above
For friends who love
and bring out our shine
for strangers
though anonymous
make us believe
with little acts of kindness
in a big way
or a small one maybe?

Order no. unknown~ Verse First

Food?
Ay caramba!
Do we eat to live?
or live to eat?
the latter's more true
Damn! I feel 'em blues
when I wait at the cafe
with a book in hand
face hidden behind it,
eyes following the waitress
carrying a plate of brownies
in one hand,
the eyes follow her around
like a tiger targeting the prey
laying low on the ground.
she passes me once
Twice
Thrice!
and there she comes
with a silly smile on her face
she sets down the plate on the table
and now I can eat with panache & grace.

This one's supposed to be humorous. Hope it's good enough!

Verse First ~ Half & Half

The camera sits in his hand,

as it shuts its eye on the wonders

that surround his vicinity

There stands the girl,

standing there like a work of art

it shuts its eye on the beauty

There stands the photographer

looking at her picture wondering

when he'll catch her sight again.

Sheets of glass

Sheets of glass
sheets of ice
your empty words
won't suffice
like shards of glass they pierce my heart
will I forever be in the dark?
about your motives, tricks & lies,
you say it's nothing,
that it's alright,
but I failed to read between the lines,
and now I'm tangled in your poisonous vines,
and for me those words are nothing more
than old wives tales and rumors and lore,
as cold and bitter as the winter frost
here nothing's wrong and nothing's right,
and in the end,
I lay frozen,
beneath the sheets of glass and ice.

[This poem sounds a bit (maybe a lot) confused. But I wanted to depict the state of mind of someone who's very broken and betrayed and does not know what to think. Hope it's good enough!]

Alleviate

The big picture is always there

But the little things are forgotten

To wake up in the morning

And see the first ray of sunlight

To venture out into the darkness

And catch a firefly
Lie down on the soft sand
listening to the waves whistling nearby

To fill yourselves with the aroma of the earth

To run in the fields of happiness

Like the blowing zephyr

To watch the sun fading

Into the zenith

To alleviate your suffering from worldly trifles

To live is to live with joy

To keep your mind awake,
yet enjoy every moment

For life is too short to be drowned
in a sea of worries

As each moment is a dewdrop

One touch and it vanishes.

Verse First ~ Writers are Lovers

There she stood,
staring blankly into space,
looking at the mountains,
that lined the empty grassland,
at a distance,
her ebony colored hair,
flying,
as the cool breeze
brought a smile to her berry red lips,
There she sat on the bare rock,
bringing life to it
by her mere presence,
her loveliness spreading an aura
of perpetual happiness,
here I am,
sitting at a distance,
unable to touch her,
only paint her picture,
as I fall hopelessly in love
with the muse who stands at a distance.

{I wrote this poem as an ode to several poets who I admire. This one is about a poet and his muse. )

Experiment #2- A short story

I wrote this story during my summer vacs in 10th grade.
I wrote it completely on a whim and didn't bother to review it much.
If you read it, then thank you for taking the time. :)


http://figment.com/books/307562-Happiness-for-a-dollar-



P.S- The conversations in the story are a tad awkward and I've been often blamed for being too cold in expressing things.

Verse First ~ "He Said. She Said." (Poet's united)

I'm sorry if this poem sounds very negative and it is a serious issue I've written about. It's based on several stories I've read and accounts of several people who've faced such a thing.
(And I'm only a high school student :P ) I hope nobody ever has to face such a thing.






He said-I like you
She said- I think so too
He said- I love you
She said- I feel so too
He said-Marry me
She said- I do
They married under the canopy,
under the chill of the autumn breeze,
They married and lived,
over the years their love was rigged,
She realized he was a monster,
A broken piece of glass,
she kept blaming herself,
for remaining ignorant about his past,
she gathered her wits,
and decided to face,
the situation and packed her things,
to move out of the place,
She said- Something's wrong
He said- Nothing.
She said- I'm leaving
He said- Don't you dare
She said- I don't care
He took a knife,
held her by her hair
and beat her that night,
There she sat in the corner of the room,
weeping to herself,
regretting the day,
they met, they stayed,
regretting the day they crossed each others ways.

An experiment

Note: This poem is not exactly very good or perfect. There are a lot of mistakes and stuff, but I wanted to see people's reaction towards it. Kind of like an experiment.When I got the idea for the poem, I just kept on writing and couldn't stop, so yeah the poem may sound a little incoherent or disconnected at places.
 Inamorata is an Italian word, I know, but it felt more appropriate to me to use Inamorata instead of Koibito.

Oh Inamorata

Look yonder

As the moon shies away at your sight

For there are no words to describe your loveliness

As the soft sakura kiss your cheeks

And the women envy your beauty

Why do you cry?

Standing solitary by the koi pond

Teasing the water with your fingers

Your head bowed down with the

Heavy weight of sorrow

With every step you take so gingerly

Your kimono sways like the gentle creek

Don’t cry inamorata

The earth sighs with your every tear

The birds weep as you exhibit fear

Fear what?

The wind carries the hearsay

Across the oceans

Through the deserts

Crossing the forests

Battling the darkness of the caves

Your sweet inamorata weeps for you mortal

Her beauty scarred by her love for you

She no longer thinks about the plants or stars

But she ponders over where you are

She no longer buzzes with happiness like the bees

But all day long she weeps and weeps

The grass tries to wipe away her tears

And the flowers try to cheer her up

But all day long she weeps and weeps

Return to her and hold her in your arms

Remove her pain with love as the balm

Stop hiding and come out

Of the box where you have

Suppressed your love for her

And tell her that you are forever together

The witnesses of your love are the winds and stars

And all those tears shed over so many hours

Only time can separate us

My heart, my love

So say the moon and the stars above.