The Sun glimmered few of it’s remaining light to me, I hurriedly enveloped them, For I used to lose them quite often. But this time I had them pocketed Well and safe, close to my heart.
Few light(s) from the pasts Are like zombie in the alleyway Of the gyri and sulci of my mind. Each photon I got hold of Are dearer to me for they Are the remnants of my time.
I watched my myself in the mirror Illumined by the light, my face Speaks words unknown to me. Jitter jatter, pitter patter As though talking gibberish to me Or I don’t understand my own face. //Quite a anomaly//
I had been collecting broken shards Of broken mirrors that I broke Every time I saw my face. I had been collecting my letters And words that wrote with my heart everything I loved slipped from my hand. Sun do sets and heralds darkness To veil the light of my only sun, But I hugged the blackness I see myself clearly in the shadows And in my eyes those stars twinkle, //Stars of my hopes//
Before I introduce to the site called ” Insight” I must tell you, I have been a blogger from the inception, I wasn’t into social media neither it excited me,
Nonetheless, i must tell if you haven’t seen the other side then you haven’t tasted the real cocaine or weed (whatever is more potent).
Till now You were fooling your mind and ultimately yoruself. It is not the right escape the escape is when you remove your blinkers and see the world. And eventually You gain nothing, ofcourse everyone grows and mature by themselves with the passage of time.
And I am pleased to announce we have amalgamated to create a place where words can only thrive and breathe and it’s a ship where you will get on-board for a sail to the world of realistic utopia.
We have many surprises onboard start by submitting your treasure and we will come with new and exciting challenges, so don’t wait and start submitting.
Submit your poems, short stories and fiction etc to us and participate in picture inspired POETRY every month.
I have seen buring pyre
And embers glazing
I have seen the bone becoming the spike
And piercing the heart.
I have seen the asphyxiation
And turning of blue under the darkness
That strikes until you burst out.
Life is a sagacious dilemma
Where you at times get scars
All over your skin,
And flowers bloom from your cracks,
Scintillating the air with
Your sweet fragrance.
At times you walk on the hot coal
And burn in the heat until
Your skin wears off.
At times you get blown away in storm
And you land in the desolated island.
At times you cry, you wail you flak
Over the adamantine tales of past.
At times you wither away from everyone
And the people to vouch for,
Bite you and drink your blood.
Oh! these piled up parchments
In the graveyard of your mind
Holds no value.
/Ammunition for the frenzied mind/
Dispel the dark disarray
You choose to consume.
You are the bud,
Exude your fragrance
Uptil the horizon
To your people
That called you, “friend”,
To your people
Who doubted you
To the people,
Who were pulling your leg .
A sublime tryst awaits
In the garden where your smiles
Shall linger and the cuckoo
Will sing your name.
You see in every nook and corner the periwinkle that grows so subtly almost unnoticed and at times weeded out. The myriad of flowers ranging from blue, white and then pink bundled forming a nexus, a synergy channeling mirth in the spirit of life. The sashay of wind whispering to the ears of them tickle their laughing beans and they burst out in jocundness.
//The thing of beauty is joy forever//.
I wonder why they live life to their fullest and never adorned as the rose or the daisies or the hibiscus or tuberose. You will never see them in bouquets of flowers but they thrive in glee even though unnoticed.
//Be like a periwinkle//
Growing in the toughest of time the tides of heavy rainfall and thunder, the trample and flim flam don’t bother them. They just wear the precious jewellery that is the smile.
They cry too when they are uprooted and wilted as they are bullied by the scorns and spites and eventually die as unsung heroes.
But their unnerving spirit remains leaving behind the legacy to the world to take inspirations from.
Afrien, how can be so quiet?
Having a name sung by a poet.
That’s a sluggish start of the poem
You would think Aquib is such a boy who smear.,
Aha, my dear dont mark my words
(Let me start for real.)
As the poem unfolds the years’ roll
Upon swinging air she walks with
such pride the demure channels,
Your words spread perfume over us,
Whose smell get embedded in for eternal years.
Certian is that your aura will spread like purple Kunthiana
That spread vividly wide annually over the brooks.
(let me add more hues)
There is one aura a pure like a Borealis,
Resplendently belligerent sprinkling aroma
Of puerility and refreshing souls
Like mythical Eos’s dewdrops.
Spreading saffron sparkles before dawn.
Her words, A petrichor everlasting
Smell, imprinted on naive minds.
(now comes the sarcasm)
Afrien, a dilemma of ‘i’ and ‘e’,
What name should Afreen or Afrien?
Like smoke subliming in air,
Let go this retort, bid farewell.
Well the bard in me now impersonating.
(Afrien’s rule never ends)
Eons will last your kingdom,
Uptil when the stars twinkle.
Upon Auric carpet will thy feet tread,
And shoes that no hands ever made.
Your rules certainly will never end.
You will be paid your price with
Valour and grandeur at your doorstep.