Urges Unspent

                     Picture Courtesy: My hopeless self

The flame of time has seldom lit my days
or brought to fore the newness I besought.
The game of life has seldom been a chase;
I trot unsure in skewness and get caught.

The past has preyed on my present always,
avenged whom and revenged how, I know not.
This vast sky space, yet no crescent to praise-
No, I am quenched not, only drenched in thought.

Complaint or blame today eludes this gaze,
achieves nothing, my looking so distraught.
The past, a frame that I now set ablaze-
archives of things aren't undoing the drought.

The fruits are just so rotten- I don't eat.
Bygones are best forgotten, I repeat.

Return Mermaid!

                                                  Picture Courtesy: Me, again.

Return Mermaid! Entice the sea again;
beguile the ships that sail across the moon.
Retreat to your desire; reveal or feign
a love as blue, or sing to make 'em swoon.

Resume the gentle game that you'd begun
when Time had surfed all tides in sight for you.
Remember all that still is left undone;
recall the torrent, come and make it true.

Recline on rising waves; be seen today,
recouping droplets from the sky above.
Reclaim the beauty and reject the bay,
revive the soul, Mermaid; rejoice in love.

Return now and relieve the roaring waves;
rebel the swell so that the song behaves.

Septimus

                                                             Picture Courtesy: Google

"Evans! Evans!" Cried he.

Heavens eyed it idly.

"Evans!" Wailed the victim;

reached no one to rid him.

Birds- they sing in Greek, O!

Words that sting 'n' reek, O!

Listen! Listen, only-

hear the hyperbole.

'Fear no more', his dictum.

Cheer 'encore', or succumb.

Steer no more; don't speak, O!

Birds- they sing in Greek, O!

"Evans! Evans!" Cried he.

Veins or brains- thus, died he.

'Fear no more', his dictum.

And insane they called him.

Lend it not a shriek, O!

Mend it, make it weak, O!

Look not; feel it coldly,

kissing your minds boldly.

Sang he, "Evans, don't come!"

'Fear no more', his dictum.

Look not; Death is bleak, O!

Lend it not a shriek, O!

The Spell of Summer

                                    Picture Courtesy: Google

Sometimes a frost may shackle summer days

or gag the yellow sun or make it blind.

Sometimes the sky may lose its burning gaze;

reject compassion and appear unkind.

Sometimes the shady tree may bleed its green

to drench with envy, lovers come to rest.

Sometimes the steely brook may need a screen,

to quench the frenzied divers, trying best.

Sometimes the buds may bloom a little late;

prolong the wait of graves beseeching hope.

Sometimes the breeze may blow and yet not sate
a breathless being trying his best to cope.

To scavenge passion, Nature feigns a grace-

becomes a Mother and then changes face.

There will be Time

                                                           Picture Courtesy: Google

“There will be time”, said he, eyeing his return

to reality from dreams yet unspent.

“There will be time”, sang he, “to burn and learn,

to descend infernal stairs and repent.”

“There will be time, there will be time to churn

the murky sea of thought and then relent

when the dividends are all mine to earn-

there will be time”, hissed he like a serpent.

“There will be time, yes, time to take the turn

to God's own chamber and beg with knees bent.

Won’t there be time for what I now adjourn,

enough time to say what I never meant?”

“No. There won’t be any time to undo”,

hummed his heart and he bled a tear or two.

An Ode and Omen

                               Picture Courtesy: Google

What sorrows shall ever teach you, my love-
I have known it all before our time came.
A hell down under, a heaven above-
'tis but a truth I bleed, shackled in shame.

Of a heart that hopes and in horror hails
a fearless saviour from another world,
of silence and shrieks and beckoning wails-
I have known of the flags never unfurled.

Of desires draped in dawns of tomorrow,
of deaths awaited in dreams of today;
of a forlorn faith in stormy sorrow-
I have known the lies that a life may say.

I pour my tale to you, I spin a yarn-
Not to save you, dearest; but to forewarn.

Anonymity

                                 Picture Courtesy: Google

Untruths are all I have for you and me-

Today is broke, Tomorrow is empty.

No dreams or any possibility;

all I see is my anonymity.

I once got drunk to my capacity,

when your eyes had exuded poetry.

Am I now to know souls' opacity?

Or love's unlimited ability?

Who knows if time will ever set us free?

Are we here now for what will never be?

Untruths are all I have for you and me-

Today is broke, Tomorrow is empty.

No dreams or any possibility;

all I see is my anonymity.