At the very extreme undying urge of writing something, when words don’t make sense and passion starts eating me up,I hear my inner self preaching all valid reasons of why should I end this pitiful career.But then again if I would have heard my inner voice in glorious hours of writing something beyond purpose, I wouldn’t be having this block. Purpose simply defeats the act.Writing for a purpose is same as living for a purpose. The concentration slowly swings to purpose than on writing or living. So I don’t have a purpose today. The bird is out of my heart today. Let it chirp.
First of all let me thanks Amulya for nominating me Solidarity Award. Please do visit her blog – https://amulyawrites.wordpress.com.
She does write beautiful poems. Do read her work .
I do believe writing is a difficult task. It is not like blabbering whatever we want, but to reform our ideas with a purpose to inflict the eager reading minds with a side of us they have never seen. We let them not only read our work but also let them a peek to our very soul.It’s closest one can come to us.
I nominate the following for the People for this award in no particular order –
- Richard Sexton – https://reviiver.wordpress.com/
- BabaShola – https://babasholaayeni.wordpress.com/
- Paul.F Lenzi – https://poesypluspolemics.com/
While I truly believe the real award lies in writing everyday and becoming someone better.But still who doesn’t loves appreciations.
Keep writing everyone, we are making world a better place for everyone.Have a Nice Day.
“We will bring people closer than ever, our aim is to connect a billion people. It’s time we use technology to finally shorten distances between us” said the young entrepreneur .
“Can’t come home Mummy, had a press conference. Will come next month. Happy Belated Birthday Mummy 🙂 ” ,he texted proudly.
We all are searching for the Protagonist,
in the empty and deserted halls of faith within,
with each day we consume the poison
of ignorance and it kills slowly
one day will arrive
when we all realize we were the mast holders
of the stormy nights just looking for light
and we gave up sensing lack of help from anyone
with fear of drowning or eaten alive.
What only we needed was to endure a brief pain
to hold on the mast a bit longer,
the protagonist would have surfaced in the same halls,
lightning, winds,tides all would have been a laugh from then.
Don’t search the protagonist . Be One.
of your life,your fight,your death.
They say faith lies
in church, mosques,
gurudwaras and other places
but I have seen faith in eyes
of a little girl kissing his brother goodbye
at airport, a mother hoping for his son’s
overseas call and guy who believes his
dog will recognize him after years.
Faith is a gift some are yet to recieve
The Evening Coffee,
Led Zeppelin for some time,
a day that went wasted again
a night that would devour
bits of me happily ,
till I feel nothing in the
sunny morning , still
be ready for a new day ahead.
But before all this
devour and massacre,
let me scribble a page
as a memoir of the damned nights
I am seeking stars tonight
nor are they looking for me.
No wonder the nights don’t excite me
I wonder are the stars excited?