Poetry

Sparrow

I came into the world alone
Sitting in a tree.
I looked around the nest and found
There was none but me.

Alas my parents had long aflown
Squabbling o’er the sky.
My siblings building nests their own
I have to stay in mine.

I’ve learnt to crawl my way on earth
Feeding on kindness fell.
Vultures, crows and birds of curse
Roaming in my hell.

One day I broke my tinsel wing
Choking in mud and clay.
God took pity, mended my limb
For so much that I had prayed.

I flew hard to a land afar
And met a sparrow too.
He was bright, cheery and kind of heart
But we could not fly a’two.

We came into this world alone
And alone we shall leave.
Who’ll remember your passing now?
Who will your absence grieve?

The world has no place for a bird
Living out of fear.
But where to find the strength to live
To stop the flow of tears?

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Author:

The Touch of Sight

Fingers lingering o’er your pillow
Scents of your gaze quietly billow
Staring from the depths of love
Into the swells of bitter mirth

Fingers lingering o’er my brow
Sweats of coldness overpower
Tastes of thoughts of silent walls
Round and round my guts enthrall

Fingers lingering o’er our bed
Lusting after future dead
Frozen heat of closeness round
Our love and our hearts for aeons bound

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Author:

My Heart

‘Twas warm and pounding the day
It was smashed into
A thousand shimmerings
Of past joys and days
Of shared tears
Such litterings
I have to pick
And mend
And learn
That nothing is certain
In this world of
Ever-swirling whirlpools
Of conceit and deceit
Am a flame teetering
On the last of melted wax.

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Author:

A dewdrop

A tiny dewdrop is born
In the cradle of a pedal
Of a crimson rose
In a country garden.

Wafts of sweetness
Sing to its birth:
“A gift from the heavens,
A star on earth.”

The dewdrop smiles back
At the first rays of dawn
That shine upon his beauty
That sparkles in the morn.

From his wondrous birth
Came his wondrous love
That he showers on all
With the most magnificent colours.

Alas, no one seems
To care about his dream.
“Am I worthy of love?”
He asks, as he turns and he turns.

The lonely dewdrop
Soon loses his rays
As he grows smaller
Tired and grey.

Eventually the Sun
Pities the lovelorn dewdrop
By bringing him up
To the heavens again.

One can still hear
His song lingers
In the brief moment after
A fresh spring rain

“Am I worthy of love?”

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Author:

Loneliness

Loneliness, is
The last leaf that hangs on
A tree in a forest in a dark autumn.
The anticipation, the fear, of the
Wind that comes
At any moment, to blow you away.

Loneliness, is
Staring at drunken bodies wriggling
To heart-wrenching thumps
With dead smiles
In the wee hours of a Saturday night.
An empty Sunday bed.

Loneliness, is
The ingestion of tears and
The brave formulation of a smile
To deepen the wound, that is
A sin for others to see.

Loneliness, is
When he prefers to look out of the window,
Looking at the shadow of the next building.

Loneliness, is
The infinity of questions you ask
With no reply.

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Author: