Man with the Telescope

Man with the Telescope
At the terrace he stood,
I saw from mine,
Amidst the wind's constant slaps
and the silence of the moon-less night,
He set up a strange contraption,
which lured towards the sight.

And by the time, by him I stood 4ceabbd82a44dae58c912afb349470b5
He had set the device on a stand 
with its end pointed at the sky,
Restless, and curious, I asked ' What is this that you have here? If you could tell me kind sir'
He said 'It is an invention called telescope'
Its purpose: to bring that is far right up to your nose.'

'Awww!' was all that it inspired
That wondrous invention of man,
But then again curiosity-struck
I inquired of his plan,
He said that he was there at the terrace
to have a closer glimpse of skies and its endless dark span.

Amazed again by his reply 
and his urge to gauge the dark,
'Why do you do so?', I asked
with a new and restless mind
He said 'For in the darkness only can we hope to find light'
'And in the darkness only, can we all be un-blind.'

 

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Towards Home

He is so within
That he is without,
His world a floating mirage.
His head:
a salty pond of doubts.
His days, coloured by dreams,
His nights, conquered by screams,
He is isolated in the crowd.
Dead, he walks amidst living,
His skin: his soul’s shroud.
He is high,
And is travelling higher on the highway,
To a place that knows no pain,
And the souls residing there,
Are all ancient, and insane.
He has been on many trips,
This one, the final voyage,
That promises to set him free,
And gift him his salvation.

 

A rhyming rhyme

A rhyming rhyme

How many rhymes
Should I rhyme,
To make sure
That I can rhyme rhymes
And that the rhymes that I rhyme
Are really rhyming rhymes,
And not some shitty unrhymed rhymes.
But wait! Are you getting this really unrhymed rhyming rhyme
Or is a not-so-really-rhyming rhyme that is trying hard to rhyme,
Or is it the rhyming rhyme,
That I have been rhyming hard to rhyme.
Is it the first time that I have really rhymed a rhyme the way I wanted to rhyme,
If so then fine,
Otherwise I shall try again to rhyme a not-so-really-rhyming rhyme
And do so until I can really rhyme a rhyme,
Like I have rhymed in this really rhyming rhyme.
And if you feel that I have rhymed so much in this rhyme
That now it seems like a crime,
Then do forgive me,
Coz I was just trying to rhyme a really rhyming rhyme.

At a Glance

Get out of yourself,

Open the window, look outside

see the terror spreading on every side

Walk on the street, look around

grim, gossip, and gluttony,

rage, pride, and mutiny,

whole humanity hell-bound.

Glance at the world,

thirst and hunger in children’s eyes

people deluded by politicians’ lies,

A world: weak and terrified,

Screeching and burning in religious wars,

learned men searching life on Mars,

A fake mosaic glorified.

 

 

Stop making up

Try and peek behind the fa├žade,

Life neck deep in fog.

Start living up

Go be a fox or be a pig,

But never ever be a dog.

 

 

 

 

 

Be brave lil Jude

Stop crying little Jude

this squall shall be over soon,

and after it has taken our roof,

we’ll sleep by the moon.

Stop worrying little Jude

this thunder won’t last long

The morrow shall be silent; and, in peace

You just have to stay strong.

“Be brave little Jude

If you aren’t, play a con”

Like I’ve played one tonight

you’ll need to when it’s gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A cold stream of consciousness

I don’t know what is happening to me

I am undergoing a transformation

only that I have no idea about it’s result

A cluelessness keeps whirling in my head

as my thoughts oscillate between myself and the world

A confusion whether to bother about myself

or the worries of the world

Whether to express my self

Or speak up for the world

And it further becomes difficult

when you have no one to listen

Also, the people who are present

and claim to listen

barely understand anything

Words have different meaning to different people

life has different meaning to different people

I am scared to speak

because people who claim to listen misinterpret

And suppose a single person

gets the idea right

and then hopes or expects more from me

what will I do then

If I dragged my neighbour out of his bed

at this midnight hour

asked him to solve my dilemma

he would probably kill me

But is bothering about the society a crime

Is speaking up for the people

the injustice done to them weird

Old fashioned some might say

Should we squeeze ourselves

into our lives and just care about it

But if you stand for a cause

and people begin to follow

they would certainly have expectation

But how would you know

what they expect

Is it the same thing that they want too

or do they want you to do something for their ambitions

They are here now walking behind you

But will find them in the hollow

In chains we are all bound

I see the devil dancing around

And the angels have nowhere to escape to

All the temple doors closed down

people finding solace in poison insanity and death

Summer rainy winter all seasons cold

Such cursed land where widows are sold

Riots all around sponsored and then protested

Lies diffused in the air truth resisted

Life now seems a terrible affliction

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oneway trip

He is so within
That he is without,
His world a floating mirage.
His head:
A salty pond of doubts.
His days, coloured by dreams,
His nights, conquered by screams,
He is isolated in the crowd.
Dead, he walks amidst living,
His skin: his soul’s shroud.
He is high,
And is travelling higher on the highway,
To a place that knows no pain,
And the souls residing there,
Are all ancient, and insane.
He has been on many trips,
This one, the final voyage,
That promises to set him free,
And gift him his salvation.