Category Archives: Poems

creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, pain, Poems, Poetry

Catharsis

swarm

My restless memories
of the most beautiful time gone by
were like colonies of dragonflies,
iridescent and precious.

I clung to them,
for months
feeding of the unreality
they served me in the brightest daylights
and the end of the darkest hours

It was a never-ending carnival,
with my eyes shut off.
A rain that never stopped caressing my lips.
A kiss I couldn’t forget.
A dream close to reality.

It was too late
when I realized:

The most beautiful things should burn first
for the catharsis of a delusional mind.

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attempt, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, pain, Poems, Poetry

Dreams – Reverse Poetry

This is an attempt to create a reversible poem that can be read from both top and bottom. I have provided both the perspective. Do let me know , If you Liked it. 🙂

Dream

I never leave my glasses full
“Beer is continuous blood, let it flow.” Bukowski
the crazy old poet once said.
Cigarettes though I abhor with reverence.
My words are always the letters of condolences to everything.
Almost every weekend with scotch and vodka
I attend funeral of their dreams,
their dreams massacred in broad daylights.
Friends, Lovers, Acquaintances,
all gave in slowly, for a dream of stable life,
where they work till 9-5 somehow.
They buy food and have wailing babies.
Then they drink to bring normality.
They stop pursuing themselves
They hate mirrors.
Let them be.
I am normal now,
I don’t need a drink.
Let me dream.
Let me write something beautiful.
I don’t want to be like them.
I simply don’t.

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I simply don’t,
I don’t want to be like them.
Let me write something beautiful today.
Let me dream.
I don’t need a drink.
I am normal now.
Let them be.
They hate mirrors.
They stop pursuing themselves.
Then they drink to bring normality.
They buy food and have wailing babies
They work till 9-5,
all gave in, for a dream of stable life,
Friends, Lovers, Acquaintances,
their dreams massacred in broad daylights.
I attend funeral of their dreams,
Almost every weekend, with scotch and vodka
My words are always the letter of condolences to everything.
Cigarettes though, I abhor with reverence.
Bukowski, the crazy old poet once said.
“For beer is continuous blood let it flow.”
so I never leave my glasses full.

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creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Split

Hymn those verses
as eyes dive into this
seminal darkness.
the very ones I always hear
and forget
at the end of the dreams.

Build a crown of wood,
and lit it up for those
eager to taste it.

Split the fire
into two parallel mirrors:
power and desire.
let me see the anatomy
and the invisible bones.

They shall keep burning each other
till they forget their purpose,
as the mind and the soul forget
when awaken by the rain of blood.

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beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Poems, poetry, sadness

3:01 am

At 3:01 AM
I always get washed up
by the tides of dreams
to the shores of reality
where sands of my existence
stick as a scar on my face
and now the oceans of dream
can’t wash it off.
It just burns when I try
scars turn to identity
stupor becomes vigor.

Aligned and disoriented stars
burn with renewed malignancy
for the dreams I had.

It must be lonely up there,
I wonder if they ever dream,
I wonder if they ever love.

With nothingness paralyzing my head
and spreading like fire
I give in to this void
from where I was born,
where I would die
where I would now exist
for this rest of the night.

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dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Imagine, Life, Poems, poetry, Prose

Stagnant Waters

It is that time of week,
when our meaningless pursuits
drown in beer and single malts.

Our shadows retire besides us
tired of walking on overdoses of caffeine
and monotony.

The tires rest while the toes
breathe.

Even in this restless summer,
you somehow remember the fire hearth,
within your heart when you were young.

Exit Doors closed with regrets.
The waves are not beautiful.
The fear of death tastes nothing like ice.

A miserable mixture of cheap gin and tonic, that is a straight gulp of unending silence would feel like.

You are in the stagnant waters now,
don’t forget to swim.

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