Bad Poetry

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Oh damn.
We just laughed and we laughed.
Until we were bored of typing 😀 smileys,
and we started to fight.
Things started going down the drain
and my brain too started walking drunk,
you know going left and right.
I know this is bad poetry.
But haha, I hope,
at least if you would’ve seen it,
it would’ve made you laugh.
I am laughing, too.
But you have me blocked.
Things really shut down
between all those laughter riots
and our amateur jamming sessions,
didn’t they?
Why then, don’t I still have the heart
to erase those .wmv’s we recorded?
Maybe because, like day after night
and night after day,
after you left,
my beautiful mind has gone just haywire.
Stuck there, and my day still dawns at dusk.
So extreme, they were,
our insane sciencey discussions,
the earth stopped upon its axis,
that glazed winter froze,
the minute you were gone,
and life is like a glass ball,
filled with gel and glitters,inside which
the Princess now dances alone
amongst twirling magnificent snow flakes.
All night long.

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Random verses all written in a day.

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When separate eyes meet in a crowded city square,

Over exploits of their humanity, and time, once and again–

They know they were meant to stay together,

Because they were met by a chance of eternity,

To be lost again, and again.

***

I walk through a dark corridor,

The air hungover with muck and gloom.

The door of the forbidden room stands tall

Like the brooding death of innocence.

I’ve arrived the point where it appears clear,

I’m just trying to kill a love I’ve given up believing.

But the stark darkness stuns the virginity in me,

Which is eager, very eager to take me,

Someplace else…

***

Those roads will be difficult to walk on, now alone.

The sand pebbles and germs, and the whirlpools of air

Which like separate worlds, have flourished to life

From the touch of our feet last trodden.

Preserving our childhoods, and pearls of sweet labor lost-

How dare I violate the sacred order of the worlds,

Which, if, might be conspiring to bring our feet together?

Which, if not, how can I disturb the ghost world,

Where in spirals of dust, our ghost selves would dance?

You will apologize to me, I know, you will. One day.

You know, I deserve one, for what I will have to go through…

The trauma of never being at home, while at home.

 

Moving Nowhere

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Chaos it is when I give it a thought,

As to where we’re headed, that fate has wrought.

Peace that I feel in they words’ embrace,

To think, it grieves me, our love for thee is just thy vehemence!

 

Delirious, moonstruck, blinded by desire,

I feel sacrilegious, accompanying thee,on this godless voyage.

Damned we are, condemned by fate to live in doom forever,

Infernal is the wait, to find that horizon, to bring us back to mortal age.
But the sun is not setting and the endless main of waters, ceaseless ahead–

What scares me is that, I don’t see a wish either, a wish strong enough,

Since the wheel is in thy hands and I’m just a guest on thy anchored barge.

But the sun is not setting and the sea is dead, no winds for the lifeless sails don’t bluff.

 

Moving nowhere, standing still in the ocean of utter desolation, scares me.

We’re trapped in this nightmarish reality, I have no luxury of waking up.

Maybe I don’t want to wake up, I love thee for all I know.

I can’t shatter all those cherished dreams for this one nightmare.

 

Knowing I have nothing to wake up to, except the fact,

To learn which, will shatter me across the ocean.

Knowing our love was just my imagination I indulged in,

Wishing and crying for slumber to murder my obsession.

Questions I have no answers for

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It aches, the sore at the centre of my being,

It happened last night when the red haze clouded

The last bits of my shredded sense of morale,

Which let desperation slowly creep into my vacant heart,

Which once stood tall and brave and strong,

With paradise around in full bloom.

But that was eons ago, and since then, many angels have fallen.

I am a mere mortal, and now I stand like a thunderstruck tree,

Stripped all of the divine grace that caused my heart to glow differently…

The same eyes unlike before, the pride, the life, the zest have forsaken,

The skin though young and intact seems wounded by a thousand cuts,

And wrinkles and burns, as if the flesh emanates and vaporizes like guilt.

It’s a tug of war, between my left and right, truths and lies

I chose fantasy from beautiful lies over satisfaction from ugly truths,

That arouse disgust, I was shunned then in the name of impracticality.

And now I am one of them, which bows me down with regret and shame.

My sore, wounded core reminds me of my shredded insides.

That broken pride in me, disdainfully questions me from the dirty mirror,

That why, why why I broke down under that little arch of wishes unfulfilled?

That of all people in the world, I lost my virginity to me…

Wish

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Dream of starry nights, on a fresh lawn,

You’ll wake up to a dampened dawn.

Wishing for love, friends and shooting stars,

Hurt you’ll be, never think they’re made for thee.

 

Dream, dream, within your gilded soul,

Sweet princess, so alien within this world.

Where nothing can touch you,

With a feather, nor ever a sword.

 

Within your spirit, you live, you rule,

You create, wonderful worlds.

You live for a greater cause.

Others just don’t get there.

– – one soul mate, that is me – –

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As I see myself so happy, I am hurt.

There’s no reason for me to be happy anymore.

When my lips wouldn’t stretch further in a fake smile,

I find something wailing, unbearably loud, inside.

That shrill noise goes on breaching all my fortresses,

Setting to fire, my mighty monuments of fantasy,

And, ah, hope after all these years of pining in the inferno.

Sometimes I wish I could just pull it out of myself,

The deadly masque, which like symbiote,

Sticks to me, plays hoaxes through me.

The masque, that has slowly started,

To imitate me, but in subtle ways,

So very different.

 

Dreams that are never going to come true,

Why, O’ why, my dear heart,

Still so busy weaving them?

Why, wait for imaginary footsteps,

While living in a palace of glass,

In the middle of a desert lake?

 

At last like your only well wisher,

Like a hopeless Knight in shining armour,

For you, he never will be,

I wish to tell you of a few truths,

You’ve already always known as have I–

In the end, you will be the one, starkly alone.

Only your joy and blood will be hurt when,

Which already is too late, you decide it’s time;

To see the clear truths, that had been untouched all along.

That now you pretend to see and ignore.

Breaking Free

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Had been locked up inside my own mind, as if,

Tied by rusting chainmail to the icy castle of night.

So, didn’t even have to  really struggle, to get out,

My spirit, unbound, just by mere thought, broke free

Like a canon-ball of shiny metal set to blaze,

Just shot out of sight…

 

Dashing past the clouds of mist and ghosts from the past,

Unholy things, those were, by inches, couldn’t touch my light.

Everything burned along the path I trailed in my way,

The purest form of energy, like fire, now flowing through me.

Firmly ridden on the back of the mad, mad wind,

I reach for the haloed sunbeams pouring in thick abundance,

Through distant holes in the wide blue-white sky.

 

My quest for peace, finally sated for a while,

I wait at the gates of heaven, to open up.

I haven’t seen my God, and it’s been quite some time.

Sin Cera

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What is that revenge if it’s not taken with a passion?

 

Of, what use would that murder be,

If it doesn’t satiate the bloodthirsty anger?

 

And definitely, is there a way that

Love will find the way out and into your heart,

Unless you learn to set it free?

I Give Up on You.

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It’s 5:32 am of the next day. I haven’t slept yet, so the morning is not for me.

Outside my window I see freedom everywhere, inside I’m trapped in me.

My tears that I’d once believed had dried, quelled up once again–

As looking through my old texts, I see bits of the person I used to be…

 

Naively falling, placing wagers on the wrong people, whom to trust and stuff…

Was I so gullible that I mistook my infatuation for immortal love?

I don’t know how I believed there was something redeemable in him,

But whatever the impression was, I’m still paying heavily for it.

 

I can say I liked a hundred million things about him, I know, I do,

I will also tell, he doesn’t and never will like a single thing about me.

Well it narrows it down, it was my mistake, I was naive and stuff,

But it won’t be true, since I myself would think it as a bluff.

 

I know my reasons, that they are sincere enough to make him see a fool.

Never will he see me as I want him to, and never will I give up on him.

So, when will it be when I would realize I actually need help?

When will the time come, I will be free from my unrequited love…

 

To see the world as his eyes do, to gain the equivalent amount of coldness,

For me to slander a friend, like he does to me and my emotions, Oh tell me!

He is a human, pretty and ugly. I wasn’t yet a human, but soon, I will be.

No fire, no storm, no longer human, I’d be. Like him. I pray, oh, tell me!

The Winds of Difference

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Little houses, two, three stories, some tall,
Unsymmetrical blocks,
Leaking out light through little bullet holes.
Glowing with dark sinister light from selfish motives,
For a wayfarer to stumble and bleed.
The wind rustles, making a branch knock out,
Their spirits at midnight, during public blackouts…

One big hut, in the middle of winds and sands,
Water, borne from that dry well miles away,
Lies abundantly in a little pot infront.
The vast mud porch stands starkly illuminated,
In the haunting night, by a dirty little earthen lamp.
A wanderer lost in the desert finds a world in it.
Though alien in tongue, and money,
Dirty the oil lamp, but the effort never goes amiss.
Judging by the shadows, thrown on the old, painted wall,
A friendship weaves in a new bond,
And the light of the lamp resurrects a dead emotion.
Reminding and warming.
Symmetry lies in the human heart.

FTW

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Tales that seem to begin with a dot,

Usually tend to go on forever.

Life is too short for holding back joys.

You should shout that out loud,

You’re in love with yourself and the world.

From the top of your one storey-ed house.

Scared of sounding goofy, are you?

But then, to hell with the people, the world,

Though knowing nothing at all,

Pretend to know everything so well.

Hypocrites.

There is nothing awfully spiteful,

About being rude, cocky and snide.

The ‘WORLD’ constantly judges you like that.

So say, to hell with the people, so the world.

I know what is right and what is wrong.

If I love more than one thing,

So it is. Not wrong.

It’s only about time,

A decision should be made.

But remember always, with love,

A dot which means, at all times, an end,

Two more after that can stretch it towards infinity.

Maybe it’s not the right time,

Our tale hasn’t reached its end…

PEACE IS TO SPIRIT AS CHAOS IS TO MIND

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What is the Dove? But a meek, unfortunate creature,
It is but a prey at the powerful hands of Man…
What can it possibly teach our civilization, the mightiest of all?
It can’t teach anything, not until we first learn to be uncivilized of all.

Man is civilized, and yet brothers fight like bulls,
Run for the waving, red flag of power, but forget they become colorblind.
As mighty monuments of hopes of passed eons get razed to ash,
Man has terrorized the Dove to silence, as if God’s only creation was Man.

Leaders promote war, destruction, and hatred, and then they apologize
And yet, they wear Doves on clean white, the day, they laugh at behind.
Sync anthems written by brothers who have a way with words to guise,
As in their heart they know, peace for Mankind will never actualize.

But I say, we can, but not until, we go back to the old ways, and relearn,
How we used to be uncivilized. And from then, civilization will flow once again,
Unhindered, by wasteful symbolic culture and fake history, that would crumble anytime,
Free from the falsehood of liberties taken by our ancestors to buy their way into our future.

A world free from the fables of wandering spirits,
And the walking undead, and the supernatural.
A world where practicality will enlighten Man’s mind,
And where the colour of blood will flow alike.

Where we’ll make our own mistakes. Walk down our own road to perfection,
Follow not, the path of so-called great men and live on preset norms from dawn.
Not copy down quotes from speeches, or best-selling books, that aren’t ours.
Where we’d create our own fate, not follow the stout man who counts stars.

Eat not, from just the hearths at our homes, but also from that Garden of Eden,
Let us see if that legend is true. If yes, we bear the same curse as Eve and Adam.
What are we after all? Just human, flesh and blood and the spirit within.
That starves from the lack of knowledge, fed by fear of history. We need to set it free.

So, let us not speak of war and peace, but of the story of evil’s dominion over good.
Speak not of the Dove and the Predator, but the allegory of serenity destroyed by force.
Let us not speak of the civilized bulls, but of untamed, uncivilized human instincts,
The cravings of the soul that’s been subdued for ages, and let its power destroy it all.

From that rubble will Man rise again. A sun above an abyss, lighting up the depths of darkness.
Man will see the pristine green of the valleys, the unconquered peaks, for the first time in history.
Seeing that happy smile, on his neighbor’s face, Man will never feel the need to terrorize him again.
The chaos of the dark world will pass away forever… The new world will breathe together in peace.