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Posts Tagged ‘paradise’

Some say love is never about speed but a slow

unfurling of beauty- gentle and unhurried.

That makes the difference between the passing

of time and the crafting of masterpiece-

not everyone is interested reading about angst.

 

And you fail to notice that everyone’s engaged

to their own brand of narcissism- they maintain

to survive and keep up one’s reputation.

 

And if you think that poets spend their lives

holed up in their four cornered walls and a window

looking in from the world changing night and day.

Self-absorbed about  feelings or digging of the past

and wanting for love that they never have.

 

Or won’t have.

 

Some say about exiles to another country

or to another time or another space would

make people stalk on your mysticism.

Or the lyricism of recording things-

one have chosen to leave behind.

 

You can be exiled even without a room.

That is easy- while you walk around nonchalant

and pretend you didn’t carry anything.

You must know how heavy it is to bring

one line of a poem and to bravely express it.

 

Who says poetry is a dying art? I say otherwise.

For centuries, poets mined gold, toiling the minds

of men and keep them going on despite travails.

Ranting about their lost loves, lost paradise

or lost keys of their hearts.

Or lost childhood. Or lost future.

 

Art that was losing chances and losing hope.

That made poems became songs sung out loud.

It became pieces of conversation. In the streets.

And in the way people speak. To sell. To buy

affection and things people would want

and impress people whom they would want

to belong with. But this will never be.

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An invisible force within.

Sudden freedom.

A new life

for the first time,

this heart revealing

a paradise

 

amidst the simplicity

of things and the hours

walking around thankful

this morning.

 

Like light rays streaming

into dappled shadows

of the leaves above

dancing on the grass.

 

Such, such is my soul

as hope springs.

Lifting my feet

lighter and flying.

 

No past.

No future.

Only this moment-

just pure and joyful

simply being alive.

 

My miracle.

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Let me beach to your powdery sand,

a beachcomber with seashells on his hand

delightful picking colored stones ashore.

 

On your rugged cliffs I climb and went,

lingering to witness your misty sunset

touched by the wind of this summer’s kiss.

 

The leaning tree, a coconut, subdued me,

as it veils its shadowy palms over me-

dancing divine light, streaming reverie.

 

Seawaves sailed glinting in the bluegreen.

Its white fingers frothing immaculately-

spotless against the island’s fragiled skin.

 

Beyond the blue the sky can reach,

who can say what paradise might be-

this secret cove  of shipwreck’s lost.

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Ten years. This was how long, I have mended a broken heart. I have kept something deep inside me a special spot that no one could ever find. A spot that I have built for myself a castle of dreams of many “could have been”.

There are no words could ever describe a deep yearning. Where pain emanates from my eyes and trying to conceal them through laughter.  Sealed them carefully through the passing of time. That was the hardest and have made me unbreakable like a steel.

The throbbing of the heart. The drifting memories.  And the sweet surrender. It is the heart that never forgets.  It is the soul searching for its beloved.  And the mind that has conjured thousand images of make-believe.  Hoping that this time, it’s for real.

Like a fragile glass. Precious to behold. It is all I am keeping within these hands. As if eternity will remember a love treasured, labored and accepted. A sacrifice that is worth the lifetime of happiness. Of this imperfect world. Of this imperfect being.

If paradise is here within me. Then I must be contained. But in chaos and the world’s maddening crowd, the memory of you serves as an inspiration. An escape. A beautiful dream. In you I find redemption from my fallen self.  I find peace like gentleness of the seawaves  crashing on my shore.

It is like finding a jewel that once lost.  It is like a lonely harbor waiting for the ship to come.  It is like the rose that never withers.  And if that comes. That day. That day. I cannot tell anymore if it is just a dream or a reality.  I cannot tell anymore if it is pain or happiness.

I will be lost. And cannot be found. If that happens, just hold my hand and wake me up. Help me believe it’s worth the wait.

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