Birdcage

Standard

how feeble one may be

to be a captive in someone’s heart

tone a curtsy with their toes curling

and play a puppet as the fingers strum

the dreamy chords of their discretion

 

or unfettered may one be

free to flout or flout so free

like antibodies breaking the jam

can I stay without a command

now habituated, and play my part?

 

©Written Frames, 2020

Poetry of Routine : Finding loophole

Standard

blood in my veins races in a loop

on infinity petals of a knot

a knot in muscle, a knot in tongue

feeding contortions of silence,

a caged hamster runs

to please, be pleased

now faltering for a breath

 

with binaries of extremes

the ends never meeting

to love, now unloved

I am a spinning spindle, beseeching

a preemption with the hand grazing

brooding over its fuzzy logic

let me hear myself say ‘what if’

 

I pine for a palpitation

a sigh, a smile or a shriek

identity of a throb from a tamed beat

it escapes me like that of barren lands

them who know naught of welcoming

never shall they grieve the frozen

never shall they thaw

 

©Written Frames, 2019

First in the series can be read here : Poetry of routine: The Crossing

Poetry of routine: The Crossing

Standard

blows of routine, mourned

dent in chest and ache of lemons

squeezed to drink, to refill

 

honking horns, vrooming

breath savoring the phase of wait

men stewing under their noses

 

galloping gait, impatient

kicking the pebbles and people marching

the paradox of them coming to leave

 

a busy crossing, a musing

curlicues of civilization on interrogative hooks

moving, though not looking back for once

 

©Written Frames, 2019

do not make a poet smile

Standard

scrawl not the forced rhymes

scattered dots of chaos be aligned,

full of fancy words so mellifluous,

do not make a poet smile

 

poets are easy to fall in

poets are easy to fall with

melange of metaphors of changing times,

be it pain or its lessening or love

 

row the boat in shallow waters may be

the wood, the oars though unavailing

curse not the treacherous oceans then

but lament the boat why not it moving

 

grooving a trail in muck-mush of steps

dragging the rising weight of sunsets

blow out the candle, sweetheart, be it dark

kiss me with your blank verses

when it all fails and fall

 

@Written Frames, 2019
I wish not to believe in existence of easy paths, but to survive if ever scathed.

Redemption

Standard

I write, I erase

a legit affair with backspace,

what harrows this heart-

expanding excavation,

meanderings of a graveled maze

 

midst of green fields and clear sky

a breeze so gentle brushing my hair aside

just as lips curve in a sweet smile,

a sudden twitch in my right eye

wake up! wake up!

horrendous clouds are magnified

 

it shines, it blurs and then it rains

what is living without mistakes?

despair in love,

or agony of loss,

regret of choices went wrong;

unable to weigh in words, how to portray?

strayed emotions do haunt, if not conveyed 

 

key down and key up

key down and key up

a stream of letters flow by

amidst the chaotic silence and click-cries

skeptical of the story, how to tell?

stage of scrabble is set to rationalize

will I be then excused- a happening passerby?

 

ink is smeared, drafts finalized

grains scatter, pages prowl into a pile

sinful summer strips with autumnal prying

treaded to roots, winter shivers of withdrawal arise

in blooming cups of spring, I seek ablution

I am changing like seasons

and, mother nature is my alibi

 

 

Truth is the acceptance of its existence. It lies on the demarcation of acknowledgement from ignorance. Ignorance is bliss and acknowledgment of truth is where the awakening begins.

©Written Frames, 2019

 

 

Unknowingly

Standard

I wake up, vowing to live

mornings with missing eyelashes

 

knowing, I dream a lot

with dreams, I wish whatnot

 

if a lash lands on your palm; the chances,

forget not to blow it off

 

knowing, it is coming from me

a dandelion leaf of the magic foreseen

 

blown into the stardust of universe, and

song of connecting strings

 

we hold

unknowingly

 

It was already an hour into the new year and I could not hit the bed just then. My mind runs on a a poetic engine and a poem was so necessary to fuel it up into next gear.

Here is a poem to a year full of dreams and wishes to come true. Happy New Year pals!

❤ ❤

Every day is new and may you do something new each day. Make every moment count.

Lots of love and gratitude for your continuous support!

Hope you like the poem! ❤

 

©Written Frames, 2019

 

 

 

Awake

Standard

a maiden morning ray

is all what it takes

hush a heart, writhing

woeful and ashamed

 

now that I am up, agonized

life treads, turns up gray

night snarls at me,

pardoned with eyes awake

 

blissfully proud and drifted away

in diurnal deeds of forte,

singing songs of merry

of facade, foibles disobeyed

 

©Written Frames, 2018