Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Love, Nature, poetry

A Glance

 

A glance is enough for the heart to beat

to  transform naivety into shrewdness 

of some kind, many long for it in the ancient past

to moisten their dry parched youth, as the case

it never befalls where it ought to, yearnings

fossilized froze in the corner of heart, birds

never chirp on the skeletal trees, insects don’t

dwell in the deceased fallen barks, dimpled

cheek cupids doesn’t appear for those who

always wait and sigh, no ballads are sung

on the onset of  youth, nor a tear on its passing,

some do age without the grace of a glance

and leave the grim world  still longing for

 one glance.

 

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Flower Wreath
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Literature, Love, poetry, Self-Help

Pride of A Flower Wreath

Weaved with a lot of skill and compassion

Oblivious stood erected in disdain 

Persian turquoise, Indian indigo…

You name it, and I had flowers of different valleys

Bathed in egotism, adorning-robe of pride

Relishing my pristine appearance, while

Scorning others, self gloating was my sin

Sure of my fate, to be embellished at 

reception decor Of heavenly virgin bride, 

I Spoke meticulously the tongue of vanity,

My artisan a blind simpleton 

Crafted me with great virtuosity 

A connoisseur of colors, arranged

Silk flowers with tears filled with pity 

But I basking in the glory of self adulation 

Elated, high browned  looked down on him.

On other customary bunches, turn after turn

Dates after dates,  final day arrived wrapped in laced

White Upholstery, escorted in a black Lemo

to a town of a black widows, shrieking wailing 

unwelcomed my arrival, roughly handled and bruised 

was placed on a coffin of one senile old man, whose

only act of courage was a piece of land where he 

was to buried.

 

wind's tale
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Legend, Nature, poetry, Spirtual

A Wind’s Tale

Started at 3 pm to look for morality,
Hours minutes pass by,
Walking waiting sleeping
But road to morality seemed long
On the curvy path few are busy,
Some in slumber, some don’t 
really care…

My guardian angel texted ” do not disturb”
Keep on marching, keep on trudging 
Perhaps one must ask what is the way
Met a wasted drunkard 
Stretching on the cracked pavement

Taste this nectar from the gods
You will find what you seek
I too was once like you
Follow the direction of the wandering wind
Swaying, dancing, howling 
It knows what you look.

Seven days and seven nights,
Chased the promiscuous wind from coast to coast.
Shrieking, screeching it leap up to me
With a licentious laughter…
Here you come finally like many,
Did you know ,I was cursed long ago.

To screech and sing in darkness,
For my promiscuity banished long ,
To consummate with hollow vacuums
To make love to woods in the dark,
For my crime, as she said
Two casual tears trickled down her gaunt cheeks
I dared to love thunder under the nose of clouds.
For which exiled to perpetual nothingness,
Fornication is a blasphemy in the book of creator.

While I yell, cry in empty voids,
Thunder is gracing the blue sky.
Morality is the privilege of very few
It’s the luxury of those who dwell in sky
As final words were said, thunder growled in the sky ,
Lighting struck on the nearby tree,
Scared and naked she vanished into woods.

Tanya Shukla

wound
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Love, Nature, poetry

Valley of Fear

Between here and over there

Respites a bleak valley of fear

Where dwells wailing widows

Behind those green meadows

Mourning deaths of bleeding lovers

An ugly cloud over it always  hovers

I sometimes halt at the fork

Deciding which trail to unlock

Every path passes the same valley

For its almost a blind alley

Shall I take the track leading

the valley where moans of bleeding

resonates or just turn back speeding

Never to turn around in that trail

Where the drab and dreary prevails

But if I turn back ill be labeled a fail

For there are tracks we must take

knowing that our hearts will break

So I continue the march to the valley

without any further tilly tally.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mercy
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Love, Nature

Doe Eyed Mercy

The doe-eyed mercy

paid a visit last night,

the heavenly, at times

a wretched appearance

of bleak pathos…

It coiled round and

round my sunken heart

hissing gradually stealthily

like giant headless

serpents seeking forgiveness

of misdeed long done

an act went wrong

decades back…

A deserving reparation

by throttling my fragile

heart to suck out all

the clemencies I must

offer, forgiveness I must

bid, as the porous

vapors of pity rose

from the sinful flesh

of burning carnal desires

morphing into the

tears of empathy

cascading on my hollow 

cheeks pouring from

the doe-eyed mercy

 

 

(Painting: Heer Ranjha, Shobha Singh)

Valley of hope
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Love, Nature, poetry

The Valley of Hope

Miracles  happen all the time in the valley of hope

crab pearls dwell in the darkest corners of oceans

finest beauty emerges out of pits of intense sufferings

exquisite love ballads are sung by lovers with broken-hearts

rare florets do bloom even in the harsh winds of autumn

love always come to those who knows how to love

prayers do get heard of those who knows how to kneel

gods do stand in respect to those who walk with humble grace

miracles happen all the time in the valley of hope

 

 

Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Love, Nature, Spirtual

The Loveliest Soul Of All!

One fine day, the prophet of love summoned his four apostles to bring forth,

the most lovable soul, the emissaries laughed for bestowing upon the task so

basal” how difficult it would be?” Grinned the one with an air of disdain but

with the task in hand and the urgency of the prophet, the four proponents glided

in opposite directions to search for the soul  loveliest of all!

 

First encountered a lover embracing his beloved vowing to lay his humble life

for love, the apostle heavy-hearted flew back after making a note, the second

apostle came upon a man of who held an expensive banquet in the name of immortal

love, having made a note too he soared back on his winged clouds to the prophet.

 

The third prophet had a rare rendezvous with a blind poet, writing love ballads on

dry leaves, the apostle had tears in his eyes and feeling assured  he met the most

lovable soul in the world, went back to the prophet. The last apostle wandering whole

day in vain discovered a farmer delicately burying a little pomegranate in moist soil

 

Bewildered for the apostle has never seen such sight went close and heard “my poor

baby pomegranate couldn’t breathe onslaught of storm anymore,” the apostle went

back to prophet disappointed for not meeting the lovable soul he bet. Each emissary

narrated shares of their soul’s glory, after a patient hearing, the prophet proclaimed

the humble farmer burying his pomegranate fruit of having the soul loveliest of all!

 

 

 

 

Wedding Carpet
feminine, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Love, Nature, poetry

THE WEDDING CARPET

In the dark corner of the house adorned a crimson hued Tabrizi rug,

gifted to me as the wedding present, imported from the mountains;

of Hindu-Kush, embellished with poppy flowers and lovers’ passionate hugs

Violet borders bejeweled with a fine needlework of embroidered springs.

 

Especially handcrafted from the hands of a virgin maid with lofty desires

Intricately woven with the woolly knits and exquisite twisted golden wires

So how it became a constant companion in my otherwise blissful nuptial voyage

taking the shape and creases of my body in its crimson folds, so clairvoyant

 

We both grew to confide and embrace each other on moonless nights

During the dark nights I would hear vague cries and faint sighs

And would awoke by the silent sobbing and consistent choking sounds

The tormenting shrills one makes when inflicted with a fresh wound

 

After long desperate searches in the eerie neighborhoods in vain

I decided to hunt down the sniveling offender on a night when it rain

As I searched and rifled, discovered it came from the joints of the rug

Deep with in the sews of silverfish anklets and bangles, felt as if on high drug

 

Veiled and shackled a gaunt silhouette appeared in the woolen cracks

Thickened clots of cherry blood from bruised hands left its tracks

The sobbing sounds grew louder and a known voice pierced through

“My virgin hands intricately weaved the wires of gold and silver to woe

 

 I dared to dance with my heart’s desire with men of different tribe

A misconduct for which I was to be buried-alive in sews and imbibe

Frozen embalmed in the embroidered joints I came back from death

When your warm saline tear cascaded in my mouth I finally took a breath”

 

We  became  lovers of sorts, embracing on moonless nights,

Fasted and prayed on our Tabrizi rug, shed tears, took gentle sighs

 It became a seminary a refuge when her or mine master was around!

 Until the inauspicious day of a long lunar month when we both were found

Castrated for our naked sins, she was burnt while I was forever hound!