chimes of a forgotten melody

The Mag 188 Photo by Mark Haley Duty bounds all men with a rope That pierce the flesh and plants The seeds of labor. At the end Of it all what we see is a light That spots the faint dis-beliefs We had in ourselves. The glory Of life is when the light fails To capture even the smallest Prowess of dusty grooves in Our limitless soul. A path to Salvation is a walk we make All by ourselves, without the Pride that carried us around, Without the happiness which We hunted down, without the Momentary discomforts that We regret all along. A walk to Meet the savior of all human Souls, and the conqueror of all Worlds which exist within us.

Happiness, An Abstract Credits : www.bidorbuy.co.za What is happiness but a touch from A word that calms your soul, when You want to weep sorely on words That forever remain unsaid. What is happiness but the tricks of A clown that jumps you off With laughter and fills his starved Dreams with a hope of life. What is happiness but the magic That fills the air from a masterful Hand, and creates strokes of mystical Finesse which made breaths and smiles. What is happiness but the thoughts Of a philosopher which resounds that 'Happiness is a shadow that creates A blackout in our miserly memories'

DEDICATED TO PINK FLOYD, A BAND THAT OVERPOWERED MY HEART I was listening to 'Coming back to Life' by Pink Floyd (video above) just now when this poem came into my mind : Here, where the bleeding rose overruns The boundaries of a garden nurtured in My limitless infinities of imagination, I am thrown into a stupor by the breath Of life that emanate from his firm voice. The dark rains, that followed me since The day I took my path away from the Nomadic followers, slowly eased into Oblivious chants of support that the Singer got from the deep stretches of My solitary existence. Standing on a land that smells of Blood and unaccounted 'sarin', I heard cries of battles I never fought, I saw lost lives that I never known, They danced frantically along with me, Death may have liberated them, but Music have granted them salvation! I kept walking, I kept running, I made pace onto the gravity that pulled Me towards it, like...

Picture taken during our college trip to Goa (India) last week When I look back at the 20 years of experience I had on living in this lone planet which is found to harbor life, I find a lot of images passing by like a moving picture. Some faces stay on longer on my memory screen, I prefer to watch them forever.! This poem is dedicated to everyone you see in the picture, and to anyone whom I find staying a second longer in my memory. Without you life seems a lot less colorful. A melancholy poem of loss got stuck Between my pen and paper last night, In a vain struggle to untie the knots That choked my words, I injected A dope of fresh prompts, quite Unaware of the loneliness that slept Undisturbed in my rusted mind. Without knowing the reason why, I wrote, 'How shall you describe friendship?'. Just as a faithful dog whines when A master dies, my pen made a noise Which killed seven different powers That blocked me from my words, I wrote about seven seas an...

Credits : abstract.desktopnexus.com You shall surely see the grace of a bird in fight, But I see a mother's desperation to fly home to her hungry young-ones. You may then praise the art of the setting Sun, When I fear the fading shadows that unite stealthily with the night. You laugh at a running saint being chased by a 'mad' dog, I cry for the dog, cause he shall face the wrath of a mindless 'God'. You shiver at the howl of a wolf, magnified by the silence around, I smile with the symphony which gives me an illusion of company. You see the moon rise steadily in the East, I feel its webs of attractive aura making me walk into it. Now, do you see a lonely poet juggling with words and missing many? Because he sees you like a classic painting, while I continue the scrawl.

Before the days of customary depression, Joys of nature blossomed secretly like A garden which was gifted with hard-work. Credits be to the cycle of existence, all The passions of youth merges finely into The senseless devotion of adulthood! We search for keys to happiness more On the outside than the inside, as we step Into an illusion of inflicted feelings. Boarding a vehicle that guides you And leaves no option for choice Makes me think who is making the travel? Is the path left to us? Or are we followers? Why do we prefer a visit to the zoo, More than a survival at the deepest forests? Answers that float like an unguided missile May breach any of our insane limits. Between the momentary thoughts that pour, A glance at the unleashed power of nature, Left me in a state of chronic awe. Notes   A poetic rendering of thoughts that sprang on into my mind during my visit to Jog Falls , Karnataka yesterday. Standing underneath the falls and looking stra...

Artwork by Jeanie Tomanek Courtesy : The Mag Angelic psalms of care often deprives The pleasure of waiting for your God, A noble crime is to forget the divine, And rest assure in a miraculous drive. It is sane to wait outside, when ghosts Of hungry men waits to rape even after Their lust has broken down into fine dust, There you cradle your fear and drink The burning blood that drains through. Yet with a misplaced anklet that adorned Her one leg, she swung upon branches, (An image of love flew for the ghosts to see) She left herself for the heavens to free. Measured glances of hope dripped her Fragile face, she was a daughter, a lover A mother, a saint and a believer, She planted herself onto the tree And sat forever with her bare basket, For the ghosts and the Gods to see. Wings of faith were never too large To lift her off, crowns of thorns Were never too sharp to keep her down, A bird which ceased the desire to fly Now gav...