The Ceremony of Loss

Gone,
Far away, far from my world
To a world of your own
Created without me, with a love rightfully yours
My world,
Now without smiles, without peace, without contentment
All siphoned off as ransom for the time you gave me
I have but little resentment
Cause I was more at fault you see
A mystic curse on me,
That which a strength was,
That which I never thought a weakness would be
Filled now,
With an emptiness, a numbness to all but pain
Tears,
My companion in times of trouble,
Try to shield me,
The me devoid of hope, facing reality.
The sky wept,
Wept at the ceremony
The ceremony of my loss that the world celebrated
The sky,
Wept at myfolly, wept to wash my tears away with its
Scarred,
Scarred for now, for the tomorrows that will come
Longing to let go of the memories
And dying to keep some
Sauntering in a dream that I knew
would never be true
Yet unwilling to dream anew
Wish,
A wish I would never wish I'd wish
And then wish to find a way
To think beyond the memories of that day
Think beyond the colors, the shades
The exhilaration
Antithetical to mine
To the darkness in my being
Drowning,
Losing control on everything
Moving slowly to the other side
Hoping for respite, for comfort
To feel a simple peace inside.
Away
Away
Far away from here
From you
All that I remember of you
Simply away...
To Shangri-la, to another terrain
To live again
and die once more......

The Ring

 Hold me, surround me in  that flaming circle

Douse the fire and bind me in that ring

The ring which once was of hope

Now tenders only sorrow

The yesterdays have swallowed my tomorrow

That fire that once was mine

Is now replaced by a cold nothingness

The ring has lost its shine

But it keeps its iron hold

The entrapment is now sevenfold

Slowly the burning embers move to where it rightfully should

And though my best sense agrees, my heart feels wronged

I should let go, but the ring prohibits

And the love limits

My powers of self recovery

The ring holds me in a tight bondage

Drowns me in “What ifs”, in numbness

Yet in pain

It lets me not refrain

Against that, which hurts me so

Against him, that my pain does not know

Perhaps I shall fight, I am sure I must

Till I can do no more than bite the dust.

Inspired.....

[ From times when the mind goes numb and the heart goes out of control. Most of these were created in SMS form as thats the only medium of expression on the go ]

Alone,

Even the myriad shapes that surround me,

The specters of the darkest nights

Have left me in cold abandonment

Do I still exist

Why do I still resist

The axe, the scythe

Am I curse from days of lore

Have you been to this place before

Do you recall a bitter way

That you passed along some rainy day

I am the heartbreak kid

The one your mother warned you of

I begin where the world stops to bleed

Immorality’s seed

Yet with a heart that wouldn’t hate

That’s my evil destiny my tryst with fate

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A hope, a wish a silent cry,

Not enough life left in me to die

Goes on vacant ears unspoken

No one this accursed chest must open

This must continue all the way

Up until judgement day

********************************************************************************** 

 

If tomorrow brings pain of another kind

If the eternal road I may find

What would you rather I said

What dreams

What wishes

What decisions delayed

How would you rather it end

Along which road, along what bend

What would you want from me

From where would you rather I oversee?

********************************************************************************** 

 

if love was a commodity how much would u sell for me

if life was inconsequential what destiny shall be

if truth was just another lie what would you believe

if the heart was replaceable would the mind the "it" be

if yesterdays were to come tomorrow again who's smile would you die to see

if colors were the moments in life what color would we be?

if I would have been just yours, would you still yearn so for me?

*********************************************************************************

 

What dreams may come, they are of you

The subtle smile to thoughts of you

Lost yet again, lost in you

I’m here again but where are you

Impossible dreams being yet so far

At this unearthly hour

Enslaved by your enchanting power

Passion like a heavenly shower

Pure Oh angel is our love

As peaceful as a sprightly dove

Eternal and ever bright

Lighting up the darkest night

**********************************************************************************

 

Just Something

Each day I walk down the same road,

Each day wish something new

Each day disappoints and yet I wait

For what I know isn’t true

 

I make the same old blunders,

And endeavor to set it right

And each day when I come face to face

I recoil and run out of sight.

 

A lie it is I live each day,

But in a total lie I’d rather not die

Just a tiny wish, a prayer

A tiny urge to fly

 

Not too high, above the clouds

Just high enough to see

Everything a little differently

To define the real me

 

Just once, just once, feel the real me

Just once let me soar

Just once give the real me a chance

I would not ask for more

 

Just once I want to be happy

Without making another sad

Just once I want to laugh with glee

Without appearing bad

 

And yet again, I walk down the same road,

Yet again, wish something new

Each day disappoints and yet I wait

Hoping what I know isn’t true.

The Raven

[ This is one of the best poems i have ever read.Period.]


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.


And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there, and nothing more.


Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.


Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
'Tis the wind and nothing more."


Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning— little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."


But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered— not a feather then he fluttered —
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before —
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."


Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore —
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never — nevermore'."


But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."


This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!


Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite — respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —
On this home by horror haunted— tell me truly, I implore —
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting —
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!— quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted — nevermore!

—Edgar Allan Poe

Advent of the Inner Demon

[ I think some of the weirdest moments in your life are when you have nothing to worry about and nothing to do. I would consider myself in such a situation now. This is a direct repercussion of reading Edgar Allan Poe all day(<= has quickly transformed to my al time favorite poet). The poem deals with facing my inner demons who I am continuously in conflict with. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome once more, The girl in blue]

When life is normal, fair and smooth,
Almost bordering on routine,
It raises its head, and I turn to watch
As it stirs up a startling scene.

Thriving on the irony
That life throws at us each day,
Relishing the angst, the fear within
Contorting it in such a pleasurable way

It crawls on my skin ever so silently
Takes away all common sense
Leaves me sighing, weeping, crying
As I look at the world through its devilish lens.

I struggle and fight those inner demons,
And drown completely into oblivion
Ruin my reputation- my pride and joy
In search of a different Elysium

After an eternity, the tirade ends,
And my soul dawns a new avatar,
Avowing never to let them in again,
Avowing forever to watch from afar.

And yet once more, it shall revisit
And yet entrance me with honeyed tones
And yet I shall let it enter, knowing I oughtn’t
And long to explore yet again, those forbidden zones.

A drink a day

Found this on wikiquote ;)

The horse and mule live thirty years

And nothing know of wines and beers;

The goat and sheep at twenty die,

With never a taste of scotch or rye;

The cow drinks water by the ton,

And at eighteen is mostly done.

Without the aid of rum or gin

The dog at fifteen cashes in;

The cat in milk and water soaks,

And then at twelve years old it croaks;

The modest, sober, bone-dry hen

Lays eggs for nogs and dies at ten;

All animals are strictly dry;

They sinless live and swiftly die,

While sinful, gleeful, rum-soaked men

Survive for three score years and ten.

And some of us - a mighty few -

Stay pickled 'till we're ninety-two.

- Harlan Fiske Stone, reported in Alpheus Thomas Mason, Harlan Fiske Stone, Pillar of the Law (1956), p. 731.