Category Archives: Poetry

Stairs to the moon

When you help them build stairs to the moon,
And you think you all are going together and reach up soon.
But you forget one important thing,
The wooden staircase could take only one person at a time.

So they climb up, leaving you behind.

You thought we’ll all stand together, once we reach.
But a lesson did they teach?

But momma said always help people, be kind and generous,
Don’t say I, but worry about the  ‘Us’.
But momma didn’t know that people no longer care,
They get what what they want, and do not do fair.
They forget your help or the days they needed you,
The one who made the stairs and was left behind by you.

I laugh in despair, that momma when they had reached up,
At least they didn’t break the stairs,
I should have believed they never cared.

But momma you never told me that I had to be little selfish,
All I did was share and share until things got finished.

I should have kept some things for myself in this world,
Days after days things got more swirled.
I got infuriated by all this muddle,
I was left alone, with no one to cuddle.

I cried, I shouted, I screamed.
For God, what bad have I done,
that I could not get to my dream.

I vowed to not help people anymore,
Not be kind or generous, or helping a sore.
I saw the world through a broken glass,
I was drawing myself away from the mean class.

But deep in my heart, I believed,
That the one who’s the strongest, and kindest,
Then success, happiness all you achieve!
I knew how to build those stairs, so I did it again,
I learnt from experience, I grew from that pain.

I reached even higher than they can imagine ever,
And they were back in news telling me clever.
Oh fools, I thought, what have you done,
You never knew there’s a difference between a planet and the sun!

But one thing all we must learn from now,
Look for real people, because it’s a fake town.
Share only with those who’re worthy of that gift,
The people, who are there and never split.

And you need to give yourself, is your help first,
So that you climb up the moon, with the stairs you trust.

Be kind, sincere and fearless,
Because you’re special, and you’re no less!

 

Hey guys, I’ve written this poem on my personal experience, it’s straight from the heart, and it’s my present story, if you liked it,share and help spread the word, thanks!

First steps

You have a story.
There are words, waiting to be written.

Everything begins small.
Your little first steps, to climb up to her.
Mother, from where all your stories begin.

You are trying to climb up to her.
With her open arms, she gently, smiles.
Doubtless, you rise up.
Remember, those were your first steps.

Now, you’re all old, and strong,
Yet, you fear to climb the stairs of life.
Why don’t you trust?

Life is a book.
Why don’t you travel?
Why are you struck at the first few pages?

Let the chaos within burst out.
Even if you can’t see it, the story is weaving.
Thread by thread, into the tapestry of life.

And if words fail, hope remains.
For years to come, hope whispers, it’ll be better.
Better, sweeter, happier. Any more?

You leap through the dark mountains,
Follow storms. Yet, reach up to the stars.
Your first steps again. Do they taste the same?

Soaked in memories, happiness hails.
While sorrows make a wiser tale.
Mistakes, faults  — the chapters you accept,
And do not wish to visit again.

The story of the fool you were, the story of the fool you are.
Wrapped up in few words,
One Adventure, called life.

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Do you miss your childhood?

Do you miss your childhood?
I miss the way we took pleasure in small things.
Balloons, candies and cookies.
Even as great things crumbled.

We did hide-n-seek,
And peeped through the bushes,
And danced gaily at celebrations.
Or laughed away when the other fell.
Chased away mum for that glass of milk,
And fancy dad’s return for chocolates.

To chitter, chatter.
And be the teacher’s pet.
Party on getting ten on ten.
Or those birthday treats.
Running fast to get the front seat,
Or take hours to finish the last spoon of mum’s best dish.

Neither we could control the world around,
Nor felt the need for it.
There was not a search for happiness.
Or hiding away from crying.

We took the world as it is and smiled.

Could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt,Yet took joy in the things that made us happy.

If you still miss your childhood,
Remember,
It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.

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The Happy Ever After

If happy ever after did exist, I would still be holding you like this. ~ Payphone, Maroon5

The happy ever after.
After you go far away from it though, can you really get it back?

Knowing and remembering, the magic. Just briefly though.
And you know that you have met before.

When a song stirs emotions, and memories.
When pages from a book, leave a peculiar scent.
When you listen to the bus passing by, and wonder, where it might be going.
A home. The happy ever after. To find the right one.

If you have the words, you’ll have a way.

Everyone sings an incomplete song, until someone comes, and whispers the missing notes.

To complete your melody.
To find the poet in you.

After all everyone lives as a poet on the face of this earth.

If not as a poet, then as a poem.
May be fairy-tales do not exist. But it’s worth fighting for.

And it’s never too late to have a happy ever-after.

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The Right One

KOI NO YOKAN
(n.) The sense upon first meeting a person that two of you are going to fall in love

Does that happen?
Yes, it does, she said.

Sometimes when you meet someone,
like a wind passing by, and the scent it left.
Like someone played an old song,
reminding you of the old times,
Or someone brewed coffee,
Or turned pages from an old book.
Like a trace of someone’s perfume,
which brings pain in the knees.
But you won’t tell.

LA DOULEUR EXQUISE
 (n.) the heart wrenching pain of wanting affection of someone unattainable

Is that pain real?, he said.
Real. she replied.

i t h i n k i m a d e y o u u p a n d n o w y o u a r e g o n e

Yes.You might have a homesickness for a home, to which you cannot return back,
Or you have never been to. People, places and memories! Those you miss, don’t exist anymore.
For the irony of pain is that, you let the same person you love, hurt you over and over again.
And the beauty of the situation is that, you want to be comforted by the same person who hurt you.

Having perfected our disguise,
we search for a person we can’t fool.

Someone who loves you for what you are,
not what you look.

May the fairy tales be true.
Let their be magic!

When you want to come out,
of the shell, like a seed.

When you are back as a child,
with the one who completes,

as the missing piece,
from the puzzle of your life.

Or whispers the missing notes,
to your incomplete song.

Because, may be,
you have to love the wrong person,
once or twice,
to be thankful for the right one.

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Did you ever smell a memory? :O

Scribbles on the last pages

And when the scribbles on the last pages of your book,
meant a lot more than your story.
And when it’s not about the ending — happy, or sad.
It’s about the story.

So set yourself on fire.
For one day, you will stumble upon someone,
who will ignite a spark within you that will never ever die.

And when such people happen, you’ll know they’re magic!
And when you’ll never have enough, you’ll ever have an illusion.
For whom you’ll never stop looking among st the crowd.
For they are the best chapters of your life.

commuovere
(v.) to stir, to touch, to move to tears

And when deep inside they’d care the most,
They would pretend they don’t care.
And when you’ll come across the sad part of the story,

you will ever come to find–– that they are not always the ones
whom we spend our lives with.

It would be too late.

After all at the end, we all are just stories.
Each and every soul you meet has to play a part in the story.
While one may take a chapter, others a line or two.

The special ones occupy the exclamations, apostrophes, 
in the happiest sentences of your life.

And then the fire they ignite, may not be the first or the last.
But the only one that lasts forever.
And the only one worth fighting for.

| So I wonder not how well it starts, but how bad it’s gonna end. |
That’s the BOOK OF YOUR LIFE. 

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Someone said, Birthday?

So it happens to occur that yesterday was my birthday, yay.
Here’s my birthday prayer, what I felt, precisely :

Because happiness is true only when shared.
Because life is too short.
And loving more makes you feel alive.
Because laughing out loud,
Brings back the zeal in you.

So never do anything that makes you unhappy.
Because we live each day,
To fill in the blank spaces in life,
With the colors from the kaleidoscope of love.

Yes we are busy, we have priorities,
But just smiling or doing little things for each other,
Can make a lot difference.
Every word has a meaning. And every silence too.
It’s our little world. And you only live once. Mind that.

Yes, we may have ups and downs in life,
Would feel broken. At times shattered.
Nevertheless we try try try,
And we try too hard.
For life shall dance once again.
For if it’s winters, can spring be far behind?

People change, memories don’t.
Birthdays, anniversaries,
Remind us of all the beautiful memories we have had,
With all the souls we pass by, year after year.
And still they bring tears of joy!

Yes, we have got issues, differences,
I may be always annoying to some people,
Or I may find some souls monotonous each day.
Because things change and people leave.
Life doesn’t stop for anybody.

But don’t all we wish a happy ending for each of us?
After all at the end we are just stories!

 

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Did you feel the happiness? 😀 Did you ever smell a memory?

When I Saw You I fell In Love

When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew. ~ Shakespeare
This season of love, here’s a delightful piece from my collection. Expressed your love to your only valentine? Or still waiting? Anyways hear this.

 

Petals unfurl, from a delicate flower.
Dew drops crinkle down the leaves.
Dimples on her cheek as she smiles.
As the ballerina dances over the swan song.
Gentle flutter of the butterfly wings.

Magic tumbles upon her pretty lips.
As she laughs in the language of universe.
Stars sighed in unison.

Setting zig-zags among-st the straight lines.
Exclamations in the happiest sentence,
In the story of your life.
The one who is able to hear you when you are quiet.
Listen to your whispers.
Smell your memories at distant.

An invisible thread connects those,
Who are destined to meet,
Regardless of time, place and circumstance.
The thread may stretch and tangle.
But will never break.
When you don’t reach where you intended to,
but where you meant to be.

A forest-bird’s song,
Or the babbling brook.
Or ringing of the church bells.
The echo of my words for you,

Written in clouds by sunrise.
Each hearing to whisper you, I love you.
Over and over again.

When you meet the one,
Who changes the way your heart beats,
Dance with them as long as the song lasts.

 

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The One That Got Away.

Close some doors.
Not because of pride.
Incapacity or ignorance.
Or arrogance.

But simply because,
They no longer lead
Somewhere.

Alexithymia
(n.) An inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner

Every word has a meaning. Every silence too.
Words, in their most explicit form, is the best way to express magic!
So, I fall in love everyday,
With ideas and sensations,
With places I’ve never been,
With people I never met.
I hold them long enough to let them go,
But I keep them in my heart
and in my soul.

But she would rather walk alone in darkness than follow anyone else’s shadow.
The Moon Lady
but somethings never change;
like that feeling you get when you haven’t seen someone for sometime now.
like that feeling of two people starting right where they left off.
And then, somethings do change like those two people growing further apart,
But also remembering the little things,
The little similarities that string them back together,
as if nothing ever happened or as if nothing ever drifted them apart.
Or parting them once again, pretending the unfolding of truth between people, who once knew each-other,
who stayed between lines together.
That day you’ll feel sad without knowing why.
Like you lost something precious but forgot what it was,
How hard you may try to remember? 

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