a poet and a thinker...

Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts

Monday, 21 July 2014

THE MILIEU

An evening with brazen sunset gold
A lore a fable a prophecy foretold
A night new, pretty, pretty precariously stretched
Torn by the glow of a moon so roughly etched
By counts of dreams that came and would
Wipe the blackboard clean so chalks could
Write and draw and sketch and make
The night is dark before sun would take
Suck away darkness with a single ray
As night goes deeper, there comes a day
A silver figment of a fanciful flight
An idea amazing so full of delight

Are often incepted
in the wombs of nights dark
The dreams of light

Unseen
Until the sun is afar
The stars at night
-Mx

Wednesday, 29 January 2014

DOE

In the mesmerising tune of a wish come true, an opportunity, a chance,  like an innocent little doe we chase our dreams into the deepest of forests without a sliver of doubt. With a sparkle in our eyes as brilliant as the one we see in the path we choose and with enthusiasm glorious like the sun, we follow the calling. Ah! It is a new beginning.

---------------------------------------

  DOE

As follows the sweetest melody
hops, she goes deep
little doe with eyes sparkling
like the daisies underneath her feet.

like the sun bright overhead
overjoyed she hops around
like the song of the brook's shimmer
such the sheen in her crown

For now she is a princess
and just what she wished she'd be
For knows no bounds the bliss beget
it begets such boundless glee

Sweet so, the song of the song bird
she follows with all her heart.
Ah! So sweet the air fresh.
Ah! So sweet the dawn.

-Mx

Wednesday, 15 January 2014

Incorrigible

INCORRIGIBLE

Living in such sweet nothing
Coloured candies sweet no more
A ghost's yearn to feel a touch
An orphan's yearn to hear a lore

Restless and franctic, anxious
A little seed, away with wind
A canary fallen off her nest
A saddened soul that has sinned

With sun so far, the frozen ice,
still, for warmth from someplace else.
Old man who watches a playing child.
A deaf man's yearn to hear the bells.

-Mx

This poem talks about how people want certain things and so many times, those things are way beyond reach.
For instance, a ghost can never feel a 'touch' and an orphan cannot listen to the stories that his parents would have told.

The thought of 'if only' is crippling. The inability to get what they want, makes people restless  (2nd stanza)
This restlessness is compared with that of a seed - a seed that reaches an unknown land and faces the challenge to grow into a tree.
It is also compared with a confused little baby bird who fell off a nest, and does not know what to do next.
However, the restlessness of a soul who has realised that it has sinned and is beyond redemption is probably really incorrigible.

The third stanza says that people still keep trying, and so they should, like in winters when the sun is so far, the ice lay frozen, waiting to somehow, someday melt back to life.

Some of these people do succeed. They find their peace in others, like an old man who re-lives his childhood in his grandson.

However, sadly, some people keep trying without any result, like a deaf person, who waits in vain, to hear the sound of a bell.

THE BROOK

Here is the story of a painting of a little brook that is hung by a plain wall, a metaphor for the monotony of life. This brook however, does not care about what the onlookers think of her. She has a rare gift-a gift of imagination, a gift of being able to dream! Her only concern is her dream for which she lives on day by day. The dream is her biggest strength but also her only weakness.
And thus she flows, day after day, day after day...

DREAM ON!

The brook

And again, today she flows
the brook unto her sea
a tiny stream within her tiny world
a tiny dream she sees.

The sky, again, is blue
Still yellow shines some sun.
some clouds varied still play,
amok in wind they run.

Yet so stuck the water flowing.
like time all new yet same.
and again, today she flows,
the brook in a picture frame.

Awaits no onlookers,
No frame golden or praise
If only someone kind
Would paint what she appraise.

Hung on a wall plain white,
she holds onto the same plain wall
and again, today she flows,
the brook afraid to fall.

And again, today she flows
the brook unto her sea
a tiny stream within her tiny world
a tiny dream she sees.

-Mx

Friday, 10 January 2014

CAGED BIRDS

CAGED BIRDS

A poem where 'birds' are a metaphor for 'dreams'.

In a slightly pessimistic approach, this poem talks about those dreams which we 'cage' within ourselves...

Do you have such dreams that you burried deep within? Do you think it is a good idea to kill your dreams? What do you think drives people to modify their aspirations? Is it their out of the box wish or is it the rest of the world judging them? Do you think the world suffers with tunnel vision where-in guidelines are set to differentiate between practical, acceptable, apt on one hand and silly, farfetched and unacceptable on the other?
Do you think that the only option is to modify oneself according to these so called norms?

The poem:

'Four chambers' refer to the 'heart'

The 'deep forest' implies the mysteries within us (our thought process, our life as a whole, our internal environment)

'treacherous routes'  imply the obstacles/ challenges of life.

'Starlit skies'- 'hope'

'Tall gateway to salvation' is the ultimate goal of life

Forks (in the path) are many... 'not all be trod' implies  'life is all about making choices'

'Slithering rivers'-obstacles

'Too close to heart to simply give (away)' means that our dreams, no matter how farfetched they be, are precious to us... we cannot simply part with them. (And thus they die within us , yet remain)

'Caged birds, they die with an open eye/ no hope to soar (high) (to be realised) and none to fly (fly away from us)'