Monday, April 14, 2008

What a life!

(Written on April 13th, 2008.)

Spring green leaves with morning dew
Trees with flowers of every hue
Birds that sing a welcome song
To every guest that passes along
He walks these woods everyday
Oh, what a life 'tis, I must say!

With aching legs and muddy feet
Cursing himself, grinding his teeth
(The bird's song lost in the grind of teeth
Pretty flowers crushed under aching feet)
He walks these woods everyday
Oh, what a life 'tis, I must say.

Monday, April 7, 2008

More old ones--nostalgia.

A couple more old poems. These are my first somewhat mature attempts at poetry after a lot of "gibberish that rhymed" during school and undergrad.

On the top

(November 25th, 2004. My first thanksgiving vacation in the US. Ended up feeling a bit nostalgic about home and family back in India. Not a very refined poem, but I like this one a lot because of the bitter-sweet memories it brings. Also happens to be my first "serious" poem.)

Not long ago, I lived in the plains,
And life was all happy and gay,
With nothing else to desire for,
Until I spotted a mountain farway.

It looked so lofty and unsurmountable
That at once, I wanted to get there.
The only reason I wanted to go though
Was that nobody else could get there before.

I was fascinated by the challenge,
It was all I dreamt of day and night.
I wanted to be on top of the world,
And smugly laugh at my might.

It would have been tough for the people
Who loved me dearly to see me go.
But lest my spirits be dampened,
They never let their apprehension show.

And finally I started one fine day
On an uphill path that looked daunting.
The tougher the going got,
Stronger was the desire to keep going.

Many a time, on my way up
I had my moments of self doubt.
I would ask myself - Am I going to make it?
On a wild goose chase have I set out?

Then I would look down to the plains
Always to find someone cheering.
That sight meant a lot to me -
It was what really kept me going.

And at last, I made it to the top
The place was simply amazing.
But it was not till I looked back
That I realised what I was really missing.

I was so high on the mountain now,
That I could not see my people any longer.
And it all suddenly dawned upon me
That I had no one to share with my success or failure.

There is one thing I tell myself today
As I stand alone on the mountain, in the snow -
As much as I wanted to get to the top,
My heart pines for the warmth of the plains below.

If time could freeze

(December 12th, 2004. Also written in that initial bout of nostalgia in my first semester of grad school. Now that I read the poem more than three years later, I find that the lines are painfully long and verbose. But oh well...)

Some very special moments surface on the river called Time
So special that I wish they would forever be mine
Innocent as I am, I try to put my arms across the flow
And ask Time to let the moment stay till tomorrow
But, Time, not so kind, simply flows on
With a sly grin as if saying 'Time and tide wait for no one'

As I am cruising along fast on a highway
My heart is dancing in a swing and sway
To the tune of my favourite song in the car
But the end of the journey is not very far
How I wish time would freeze in this trance
And not let anyone interrupt my blissful dance

A few moments left with my loved ones before I leave
To far off lands to pursue my dreams
I give them a tight hug, unwilling to let go
Because when I will see them next, I really do not know
How can I make time freeze, to myself I wonder
So that I can revel in their love just a little longer

Lying on the shoulder of my best friend
And having a conversation that must soon end
So much to learn from her that will help me grow
How much she means to me, I can never show
If only time would freeze, I silently pray
So that we can talk and talk forever this way

This has gone too far, I tell myself one day
Why doesnt Time relent even as I beg, plead and pray?
I decide to confront Time, and take him to task
'Why dont you stop even once when so many times I ask?'
The reply I get makes me realize what a fool I have been
'If I stopped at one of those, the others would you have ever seen?'

Some old ones--sugary stuff.

Here are a couple of my "romantic" poems.

My Love

(May 31st, 2006. This one, though a little sugary, is one of my favorites.)

The memory of the feel of my hand in yours
Seems to be, in the pile of years, long lost.
The picture of yours I have is so old
That I am sure you look like it no more.
Even the sound of your voice in my mind
Is made feeble by the passing time.

But still, my love, I never miss you.
So people ask me if my love is true.

I open my heart and close my eyes,
And lo! You fill me all up inside.
No time no space, try however hard they may,
Can do us apart, because you're just a thought away,
My love, when you are that close to me,
Missing you?! How can that ever be!

Won't you come again?

(July 23rd, 2006.)

You came as the wind that ruffled my hair
And blew away the frown on my brow
You were in the rain that tickled my body
And washed away all my sorrow

You shone as the sunshine all over me
And decorated my smile with a rainbow
You came with the moonlight to kiss me good night
And hugged me as my pillow

Won't you come as yourself just once
And let me melt in your tight embrace
As I stand with arms outstretched
Alone in front of your grave.

Black and White

First poem to inaugurate the blog. Wrote this one a couple of days ago on 4/5/08.

I remember being taught as a child -
"There is black and there is white.
Embrace white, of black stay shy.
A simple rule to live life by."

But living on my own, soon I saw
I couldn't tell black from white at all.
What some called white seemed black to me,
My white to them, as black as black could be.

The hard way this lesson I realized -
The world is neither black nor white.
What I embrace to me seems white.
And the rest is all black to my eyes.

Disclaimer: The words "white" and "black" here are used as poetic metaphors for "right" and "wrong" or any dichotomy in general. The poem has no racial implications whatsoever

Hello world!

On this blog, I hope to post my poems as I write them, and a few old ones too. I'm no great poetess now. But someday in the future, I hope to be a decent one.

Brickbats are welcome as you read the blog.

- Mythili