Poetry to me

All art is meaningless.
Because meanings are
Always so contextual!
But Art aspires for universal.

And strange it is...
What makes it One,
Is also what is its pain
Of being unwarranted.

So is poetry nothing
But the joy of fulfilling,
What was unachievable
In the rigour of real life?

So the performer wears
a costume in bright colors.
And the music behind
Way too loud and jarring!

Is poetry the lion roaring
Under the circus lights!
Yet happy in a cramped cage
Alone in the pale moonlight...

Is poetry the book half read
And buried in sands of time?
Your mind fills in the rest...
The protagonist is you now.

And is poetry nothing but a poem,
Incomplete... waiting for ending lines?

Countdown

Yes the countdown begins
For the epic finale.
No more compromises
There'll be fireworks this time!

No more

I know how it feels,
Because I'm you
And you are me...

The horizon endless...
The sky too high;
Maybe I'll dig below.

To find a place,
To rest my head
And subside...

Waters overflow
Do I hear the wind
Singing to me?

And I finally
Rise up from
The sticky muck.

Float with the clouds...
So light and feathery
And rain my heart out!

And I'm lighter now,
Still floating...
A little more to reach!

Then the endless
darkness envelops me.
And I am one!

I am no more
I am no more
I am no more

Broken glass

When it arrived 
It was sparkling new!
In spite of my fuss
Soon I noticed a crack...

It was mishandled?
Did I hold it too tight?
It leaked but I held on,
And the crack deepened...

In spite of my care,
I had it misbalanced...
A small external nudge
And it fell to the floor!

The glass was shattered;
The broken edges too sharp...
It cut, I bled and I paused...
But the cleaning was essential.

Broken glass can never
Join and be whole again.
The only way is to gather
The pieces and mould again.

In intense unforgiving heat,
Till even the bravest defeat...
And molten fluid again;
Can be mould to a new shape.

Give it time to cool...
To heal, be strong again.
And now it's a new glass.
Stains only adds to it's beauty!

Tonight

Tonight I have grown a bit older,
And the darkness is a bit darker...
But does it really matter?

Tonight I need time away from you
But even more from myself... to go on
But does it really matter?

Tonight I remember the night four years ago
When I slept with a blade, but didn't cut myself...
But does it even matter?

A part of me has died... so much I leave behind
I'll forget, it'll be locked in my heart till my end...
But does it even matter?

The Blessing

In a quiet empty room,

One lonely Saturday...

I suddenly realize

How blessed I am!

The gentle sunlight

Through the window,

Caresses my skin...

Breeze strokes my hair.

And I question,

Am I really alone?

Am I not surrounded

By the divine now!

But it's all so easy

To forget and never

Acknowledge, our gifts;

To find only grief and hate...

Then I realize,

It's also a blessing...

To know your blessing

And see beyond the futile!

Photo by Soumya Kanti Paul

Off course

Been always off course
Life never a straight line...
Skewed and unjustified;
While my profession is to align.

With grids and lines
I bind my work...
While in real life,
Everything runs amok!

Order and symmetry
Pixel by pixel,
Designing per hour
Is what I sell.

While my real existence
Finds meaning behind;
Clumsy brush strokes
And iconoclastic lines.

But between the two traits
There are no conflicts!
Both, sides of same coin;
For one the other exists.

Chaos and order
Are not too different...
The thin line between
Is ultimate attainment!