I miss Sunrise

As tall as ambition,
towards my left they
have erected a monument to people
living as strangers

The roseate of the dawn
my daily reminder that I'm reborn
as lost as a hiccup, hiccupped.

Now
my first glimpse of the star of day
is a blazing, angry noon-face.
So
I wait an extra hour and 27 minutes
to see the moonrise these days.

The Maker?

Your identity, like this leaf
floats in front of you
in your hand
within your control
does it, like this leaf,
come from a seed, a tree,
a season and a gale which
brought it to you?
Its in your hand but
you look like the keeper,
not the maker.

Gerbera

Sweetly bloom for mankind.
Of different colors,
with its alluring petal
Catches every bit of eyes.
Oh that beautiful one.
With its long stem,
Stand firm and tall
Bloom your colors out.
Some likes red, some yellow,
Some pink and some white,
Still you pleases all.
Oh Gerbera, for lovers.
For friendship or comrades.
Gifts of asylum,
Brings blissful moment
To the lonely ones.
Chasing away solitude,
You will every heart.
Nah, never stop blooming.
For lovers and comrades,
They long for thee.

The Death Bell

Death never cease his love for me.
Day after day his love increase.
My hatred towards him was measureless.
But as I grow old my hatred die out,
Like I drank the love potion,
Cannot resist him.

When the death bell ring.
The pale ridden and I will be one.
Like that of true love fade.
At the end of the day,
Death and I will be together,
When the Death bell ring.

The Last Jump

There's a moment
A moment of rush
As I stare into the space
A moment of rush
Hormones racing
Pulse throbbing
Voices howling inside of me
The distant waves lash out
At the rocks, and I watch
I watch from a distance
I hesitate, I stop
I move back
One step at a time
I listen to the rustling of the trees
I embraced the cold and swift breeze
And I surged, slowly
And slowly, my arms wide
Right foot and then left
Left and right
A thump on the roof
A smooth jump and I
I took my last step and I flew
And travelled into the blue
The waves aren't lashing anymore
And it's serene
No I'm not drowning anymore
I'm lost in the rush
In the deep blue sea
Where I can no longer see red
I'm lost in the serene
Where I can no longer be dead
A moment of rush has stopped
And now my palace is pristine
I'm not drowning, no
Im simply lost in the deep 

Pain

Sometimes the tears won’t fall,

Deceiving you into feeling invincible,

Sometimes they won’t stop,

It’s cruel, excruciating, unbearable.

What happens when you smile through it?

Does that make you cold, cynical or simply unaware?

No, it’s none of the above,

It’s just easier to pretend that it didn’t matter,

That you just didn’t care.

But I guarantee that smiling mask will soon crumble,

It’s bound to one day,

Then you’ll be forced to look at your feelings,

They won’t be willing to be kept locked away.

On a frayed self

With the smoke of mistrust forming an overarching cloud,

And the shadows of deceit boasting a magnificent glow,

We are swiftly becoming a generation that is afraid of love.

Perhaps, not becoming,

We are.

Guarding ourselves no longer seems like an Herculean task,

In fact, we excelled in the field so much

That the walls now vouch for comfort and familiarity.

We are a generation that is afraid of innocent trespassers.

The magnetic pull of solitude is strong,

It has always been enchanting,

For it has no one barring our Lacanian self,

But the realisation of the self is unnerving,

And we've naively tried to break the immortal mirror a thousand times.

We are a generation that doesn't want to know itself.

An Unknown Known Face

I am not at those coffee shops

and those airports.

Don’t stand in my favorite aisle

of that bookstore.

Don’t push and push and pull

those

huge glass doors to find me.

Don’t run on those escalators

and

enter those elevators.

Just,

don’t try to find me.

Don’t search for my scent

in other people

you can’t breathe the same love,

twice.

Let’s only meet by coincidence, no?

Let’s count on serendipity for once.

Let’s doubt if it was you whom I saw

in the rushed office lunch hours

at Cyber City.

Let’s miss each other

by a few seconds.

And even in those chance meetings

let's stand on the

opposite metro platforms

facing

each other.

And between those clusters of

unknown faces

let's

see each other.

Mathematical Locha

You and I had that quadratic equation,

very complex.

Funny, how I tried to solve you

and now you’re just my ‘x’.

You never even used to

cross my path,

you son of a parallel line!

And here I was thinking that

I was the radius

of your circle.

Your circumference really

made me blind.

Little Things

Smile and you will know what its worth

Undo the scars given by the world

Paradise is a myth but not unimaginable.

Even the most farfetched drams can come true.

Role play is what people often prefer in such cases but is it really the best choice?

Huh! Maybe, maybe because nobody truly knows the answer to things like; is it the tree or the leaf that let go?

Even the mightiest, the smartest people think it's not what real happiness is.

Rarely do people understand the worth of these little things.

Oh how I wish people did.

Reality vs Parodies

Reminiscence of your memories is something for which

I'm willing to give a hefty price

Be it screaming in the oblivion or starving of thirst

I will keep silent

As silence is my only power

Although I'll speak out loud for once

Hear who wants to, neglected by the others

Your attention will be appreciated, your ignorance respected

No consolation or condolences would be needed

As to what you may see or hear

Is my real journey

As for today, my words will become my power

But, I'd rather explain

The difference and the similarity

Silence and words are not that distinct

One's perception of them is what matters

To me when silence is deafening, my words strengthen me

And when I lose my speech, my words express what I feel.

It's the reality that scares me, because no parody can teach what you will be.

It's Not Love

It’s not like I love you or anything.
Don’t get me wrong
and don’t freak out.
It’s just that whenever you are around
I suddenly become fifteen again.
I become the one with floral frocks, falling fast
for the first time -
in confusion (Not love, it’s not love).
It’s just that whenever my phone blinks
and your name flashes on its screen
something somersaults in my tummy.
But don’t get me wrong.
it’s absolutely nothing romantic.
Maybe it’s just hunger you know.
A hunger for your awkward and slightly slanted smile,
the one that squints your tiny eyes almost completely.
It’s really adorable.
But wait, I don’t adore you per say.
It’s really just the smile.
Well sometimes the crooked nose.
But that’s just general.
Nothing deep.

I don’t want you to misunderstand so I’m making it crystal clear
it’s nothing like one sees in cheesy movies
or reads it corny novels.
It’s just that mostly I don’t feel normal when your fingers brush my skin.
But wait
that can happen to anyone per se.
So
It’s not you.
It’s certainly not love.
But I do love your red tie.
It does something to me,
Something that would ruin the innocence of this poem.
.
Do you understand now?
It’s not affection at all.
No romantic feelings.
It’s just that I feel fifteen again
and end up writing
teenage love poems at twenty.
Oh Crap!
Not Love.