This DiwaliIt'll be rather quiet this Diwali,
A dark festival of lights,
And in that darkness I'll reminice
At least light a diya they said,
For this year's Diwali,
But fire alarms hate festivities
And would not let them be.
There will be no family this year
Just pixels on a screen,
And no sweets will sweeten this Diwali,
And no Sherwanis to dry clean.
The clouds will keep their peace tonight,
The skies immune to plea,
Just a lightning bolt? A clap of thunder?
None for my De-wali.
Dear fairy light friend I must admit
I have no diyas for thee,
All I have are stars 'neath the alien sky:
Diyas for you and me.
Sonnet XIDear Death, thou art shunned, yet I welcome thee,Sonnet XI3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I fear not thy shade nor thy trailing shroud,
Whilst mankind greets thee with a teary plea
I shall embrace thee like a monsoon cloud.
Why men fear thy presence I cannot say,
Nor discern why in thy company, weep,
For life bears us all: love, woe, ceaseless sway,
But death, kind death, cares for every man's sleep.
My love for thee exceeds mortality,
And as seasons sweeten the sweetest wine,
Lend my fruitful years to vitality
And I shall remain eternally thine.
Ring my vows from my grave O timeless wife
We eloped at birth for the afterlife.
MasksWhen a smile is a frownMasks3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And a frown is a smile,
The eyes we must crown
For relinquishing wile,
When a laugh is a tear
And a tear holds no pain,
Will fear fear to fear
And fearfully abstain?
When the act is the truth
We've lied to believe,
And the fable in sooth
Is but a peerless weave,
When each mortal mistake
Is a tale and a song
And the scriptures are fake
Or perhaps they're wrong,
When the mind is the eye
That sees the outside
But shame, it's too shy
Of the tongue which has lied,
When the answers are easy
To the questions unknown,
Do you not feel queasy
Of how little we've grown?
When acceptance is feigning
For it keeps us alive
Like sunshine to greenlife
On deceit we thrive,
When certainty is in doubt
And fiction is a fact,
The truth may come out
But is it ever intact?
When can mere candor
Hold its frail fort,
When all this slander
Plays such a good sport,
When can we speak without a plan
And in our authenticity bask,
When the mask becomes the man?
Or when the man becom
GoodbyesA shy hello begins the tale,Goodbyes3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Two strangers in a play,
A quiet word, a moment's care
Brings back the mirth of May,
And then a smile, a borrowed laugh,
Perhaps a happy tear,
Life's woes are few, its gifts renew,
But they don't last, my dear.
Such weeping I have often seen;
So many fruitless tears,
And yet a question I have asked
Met silence through the years.
Alone the crave, alone the grave;
All pain is pleasure's loan,
We come with naught, and thus depart,
Tell me, what do we own?
We are wildflowers in the breeze
A breath of father time,
And in the hue, in wanton dew
Perhaps there is some rhyme,
And for a spell, we briefly brush
And love and live in vain,
But one by one we must wave on
To never meet again.
Sonnet VIOh precious love sworn to passionate painSonnet VI3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Care not for losing Love's seasonal grace,
For it is fitful Love's to love again
And Love shall later love another face,
And of faithful love, Love loves to speak,
A love which lasts till Love's closing day,
Yet, Love loves to imprint every spare cheek
With more love than what one Love can pay,
Unsettled, the scales of love do shake,
Though Love's love for compromise is known,
Still Love from tenure will in time break,
For only love, not Love, is a man's own.
And on every morrow, Love tells a tale
Of merry things upon love's vagrant trail.
Sonnet XEver charming though every Charm may beSonnet X3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her endowment lies in the borrowed eye,
And whilst man's first sense remains to see
So lives sweet Charm, and she will not die.
Yet, as her aspect forms a chosen home
As each lonely moth seeks the candle's flame,
Alas! T'was pride which lit pompous Rome
And its blaze will char Charm's cherished name.
Beloved Charm long hast thou been warned
In painted lines or eternal verse,
For every poor soul that thou hast scorned
Thy blessings perish, born thy worst curse.
And live thou a life, much pious and outspoken
Much less gashed thy soul by the shards of the broken.
Sonnet VDear latent poet of this lifeless ageSonnet V3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You are truth's last infallible device,
Though your work may remain an unseen page
Verity requires your watchful eyes.
Alas! Your life may never shelter peace,
Nay, peace seeks harborage in ignorance,
But your days so filled with candid release
Are truer than truth's own truthful penance.
Imagine no wreaths, for you shall receive none,
Save laurels of slander as truth's sole squire,
And in life, none shall know of things you have done,
Only to read your name 'neath the skyward spire.
Yet that enemy time, will be your friend
And past infinity truth will transcend.
Sonnet IILike sunshine filtered through unseasoned leavesSonnet II3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Sweet life lent me a dream amidst its sway,
Though often betrothed dreamers and thieves
And so alike the eve and the dawn of day,
Yet the wistful heart did spin me a tale
On her countenence and her childish voice,
The fearless feather quill which served the frail
Wove charming fables to my mind's rejoice,
And wishful my soul to absurdly hope
For a future born of evanescence,
And how naive I was to briskly elope
Fair fiction's act of masterful pretense,
Alas everyday love! What be your end
Except these sonnets that poets have penned?
On Platonic LoveThat love is beautiful,On Platonic Love3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The apple on the tree,
Which endures every famine,
Yet lets the apple be.
That love is plentiful,
The sea that hugs the shore,
Which meets solely at the brink,
Yet returns ever more.
That love is contentful,
The twine of You and Me,
Which clasp our eternal strings,
Yet ne'er to become We.
A Villanelle on ExistenceNothing in life is ever thineA Villanelle on Existence3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Except that old reclusive mind,
You are yours and I am mine.
Such is creation's sole design
Give mankind sight but render blind,
Nothing in life is ever thine.
Solitary is every shrine
In which existence is confined,
You are yours and I am mine.
Lonely are they who walk the line
And yet they know it is defined:
Nothing in life is ever thine.
Aloof the jackal sits to dine
And prey, in prayer does remind:
You are yours and I am mine.
As though birth and death lent no sign,
It takes man all his days to find
Nothing in life is ever thine,
You are yours and I am mine.
Sonnet VIIIn the quiet hours of the endless nightSonnet VII3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I paced about beneath the sparkling sky,
Yet, neither the moon nor sheeny starlight
Could illuminate my sorry sightless eye,
And so I pondered through each dark hour,
Alas! Had I finally spent it all?
Without my only inherent power
On what devices would I nighly call?
What empty life prevailed beyond these words?
Surely, this was a subtle taste of death?
To never again speak to trees or birds
And live by virtue of purposeless breath?
And then grasped I, as a new day unfurled,
Save poets, thus lived our wordless world.
Sonnet IIIWhat a woeful waste of time she saidSonnet III3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
As she grimaced at my youthful verse,
Foolish is the work that forgets the purse
For every man ought to earn his bread,
And saying no more she quietly fled
Away from my pen's impalpable curse,
For when my mind in muses did immerse
Alas! I confess she was to me; dead.
While her beauty was still untouched by time,
The years would in time play their timeless part,
And how cruel be I to love her prime
And upon its ruin, listlessly restart,
Instead I dwell upon the ageless rhyme
For this airy heart belongs to the art.
Sonnet XXIWho can bemoan these barren, bitter daysSonnet XXI2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
When he who loved once spoke and heard her vows
Which were but words upon which passion preys
Until the breast from a dream does arouse.
And tacit, tamed truth sends forth honest odds,
Still he uncovers that twinge trickle spring,
Still she does worship her twice fallen Gods
To find tonic herbs in winged Cupid's sting.
How trite, how vain my liege it is to keep
High pearls of eyes bereft the sheen of cheer
In dungeons deep, or thorny towers steep
On lambent clouds that rove the drifting sphere?
For rue remembers joys, charms, bonds of air
And forgets years of mirth once lay elsewhere.
The Fall of EpithilinonIThe Fall of Epithilinon2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Let no man speak of wars whence
No answer graced our call,
Let man remember gods thence
Gods, watchful of our fall;
Speak in silenced sighs, men,
Dead men hither sleep,
No flag here flails, amen, amen!
Who can ever beweep
Our brethren in the deep.
Frightened colours breached the sky,
The church bells played a dirge;
The bustling hills and vales so nigh
In crimson rage did merge,
Archers with crescents held high
Keen arrows fell like sin,
The portcullis in sorrow, shy
Interred our fathers in
The last grave of our kin.
Wailed the night in thunder blare;
The mangonels did come,
Lonely trumpets singed the air
When Earth ravished our home;
The eastern tower, wasting wear
For a trebuchet did bow,
Fallen stone and ballista bare
Broke its stony vow,
As the beadle mopped his brow.
Mildly armoured, men at arms
Stormed the brazen fray,
Howled the castle’s cold alarms:
Ladder men up the brae!
Blazed in ire the fields and farms:
The winter’s yield was spent;
Perfection is an IllusionPerfection is an illusionPerfection is an Illusion3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
As heaven is to Earth,
A painted cloudy paradise
Inspired by human dearth.
Flawless is the pole star
Leading man to fabled land,
Still distant the Polaris
From man's conceited hand.
Yet perfection's only flaw
That it will never know,
Perfection appears resplendent
Draped in fault's shadow.
Sonnet XVAs prized grow the seconds, I long for home,Sonnet XV3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My mind craves old and familiar things,
Of distant horizons and clouds to come
I can not think, but of these ancient strings,
And though my infant sights were of elsewhere
Yet, native I have called no other land,
I am the will of this impassioned air,
I am the soul of this nomadic sand.
Alas! Like the fumes of a spectral flame
For a love greater than love I must part,
But if I triumph, be it in your name
Which in faraway lands will warm my heart.
And when I die and my last breath is spent
To this heaven let my soul be twice sent.
Satisfaction is a ShadowSatisfaction is a shadowSatisfaction is a Shadow3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
So near and yet so far,
Which yearns for yet another moon
And feeds on every star.
The rich remain forever poor
And the poor; truly rich,
And heaven falls to sordid waste
Curing Man's endless itch.
More copious than the cosmos
Yet once a pinch of snuff,
Has humanity forgotten
Enough was once enough?
In MemoriamThe guardian ghosts, ghosts of our great men goneIn Memoriam2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
await above, await your advent's song,
The skylark's cry has vexed this vivid morn;
her notes denote in notes that know no wrong.
The ample ale of amber allium art
is milked by million minions of her shine,
Her radiance reigned, rained ray drops dart by dart
on fallowed fields, fields flood with floral wine.
Lie you now, now lie you near no night;
The calling candles clear collected scars,
The sun still sates the sweat of sheltered sight;
You belong, belong by better stars.
Take Me BackTake me back to the mountains againTake Me Back3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Where the world's an icy dream,
Far away from mankind's stains
Where life goes on through ageless veins
And nature reigns supreme.
Take me back to those snowcapped peaks
Among many a wav'ring cloud,
By the gushing crystal creeks
Whence heaven hath kissed Earthly cheeks
Far from the madding crowd.
Take me back to that tranquil place,
The mountains and me, a-twain,
Where admist unpolished grace
I shall deeply savor a snowy embrace
And live to climb again!
Sonnet XVIIThis fault be mine, and I alone to blameSonnet XVII3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
'Neath the shadow of my nocturnal deed,
I am sinfully yours, a prince of shame,
O Themis, if you are truth, make me bleed!
Yet, if my lapse in darker hues are found
Seal forth each gash with resin acrid wrap,
My damnation no pain of flesh can wound,
My devil no Christened reverend trap.
I tell you dear friend, leave my soul to be;
Your prayers, your curses shall fall to waste,
From rancor, this satyr heart is free,
Yet bitterness, this rimy tongue shall taste.
Futile the frown or poor Atlas' grudge,
Before heaven or hell; I, I will judge.
BeautyBeauty is the eye's only foeBeauty3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
And solitary friend,
Blindsighted the eyes do follow
The muse's subtle wend,
That fatal pool that doth reflect
Narcissus till his end,
Kissed each word of poet's select
That Byron ever penned,
Which gently held with peerless grace
Raphael's tainted hand,
And scripted upon Helen's face
Fair Troy's fall to sand,
And blessed man's immortality
In his loyal pursuit,
Yet, restrained sweet Aphrodite
And man from Eden's fruit.
Rusty CageDon't perch me upon a cotton cloudRusty Cage2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or quarter me by the country lake;
No fields of grain inspire me now,
Nor misty hues above the creek.
I have seen too many daffodils
And belle bluebells too pall my soul,
These mockingjays do not arouse
A drop of woe, a drip of joy.
Instead set me off upon a barge
Where the shadows meet, by day or night;
Off to a shade where silence unites
With her soundless charms of quietude.
And leave my haunt with little tint
A monochrome wind, a fickle farewell,
And write to me once every fortnight
From the confines of your recent grave.
And here let there be no robin's song,
No blackbird's lay, no warbler's hymn,
Leave me be in my rusty cage:
The throne of human creation.
Accolade to the FallenTrumpets trilled with triumphant soundAccolade to the Fallen3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Kissing victory's crimson feet,
Silence whispered a lullaby
Lulling children of defeat.
No field under the Tuscan sun
Held a solitary rose,
Nor poet, nor artist, nor sage
In poetry or prose.
Now forever imprisoned 'neath
His'try's eternal frown,
What purpose possessed the fallen,
Save bearing the victor's crown?
A Winter's NightShall I compare thee to a winter's night?A Winter's Night4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Thou art more reticent and rimy still,
Days cease anon with thous't departing light,
As dusk marks yer grave with thy season's chill,
Sometimes tis snow that ebbs from the dark sky,
Sometimes gelid winds the heavens do send,
Yet thous't verdict concluded you and I,
T'was not winter's to kill, nor death's to end,
By virtue of heartache, thine mind hath learned,
What ample summer days could never teach,
Art more lasting things in life to be yearned,
Nay blissful love, thous't too fruitless a reach,
Come sunshine and spring, oh winter alas!
For thou too, my beloved, shall't come to pass.
War Woundthere's a war wound in my chestWar Wound2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that I cradle in my heart
and nurse it with parables
never grows up.
sometimes I feed it vanities,
a glass of Scotch or two
but in the morning's residue
it reflects no summer truths.
there's a war wound in my chest
which sought shelter in my soul
now it lies as an attic masterpiece
for the years to unfold
the colours have aged with me
rubric to rust to puce
and this work of art upon my heart
for the artist's eyes.
there's a war wound in my chest
which fell our company
but I who saw the shot and shell,
know it well indeed.
for he assigned us nameless,
no rank, no class or creed,
but then the lance of simple chance
wiped out our battery.
and I who fell for our comradery
did no favours for thee
I beheld the appetite of infancy
and lived for mortality.