Shroud of frost

Estranged
Beautiful,nostalgic

A dilapidated home.
Weary of its belongings
Like the leaves of a wilting tree
Unearthed
Stoic
Frozen
An upheaval of emotions
And yet..hollow
What is this place?!
that cannot be reminiscent of its past glories?
A distant warm memory
That now lies in a shroud of frost
 


                                                                      -sre

Triviality

(not the usual kind of poetry i end up writing,was in dire need of writing nevertheless.)

Dark blue spreads across the sky
For the dispersion of light,
I simply await.
I'm truly mystified
Always looking for directions to run
but those exit signs never come
The light seems uneasy now
Have I wished for something
whose beauty now becomes a burden?
Knowing you,is all I ever wanted.
YOU!fascinate me
Inspire me
Absurd yet
You will never know me
Ironical yet.
You will never notice....
This,the shallow waters dissapoint me
Even trying seems insignificant .
Don't come too close for it makes me vulnerable
Don't even try,for I may self destruct.
Now,the time has passed by
the pain slowly fades away
tears dry up
As the circumstances change..
I unfurl
I've discovered things about myself
And as I say this,I still have an unrelenting desire
to see you feel the void.
Because even though you have changed me
For the better or the worse ..it is  nothing but trivial

And you are a condition of it.

                                                                                                                                              -sreya.

The End of the Day

 

 

Two years ago i came across this french poet who’s works are very similar to the likes of Edgar Allan Poe,Sir Arthur Rimbaud.I was so fascinated(still am) by his works that i ended up writing one of his french poems translated into english at the back of a book cover 2yrs back:D.And even though i feel i should have written this post earlier(one of his works),..I feel its aptness now.

 

The End of the Day(originally written in french)

Under a bleak white light she runs, dances and writhes without reason – Life, shameless and shrill.

And so, as soon as on the horizon

Voluptuous night rises, calming everything, even hunger, blotting out everything, even shame, the Poet says to himself, ‘At last!

‘My spirit, like my spine, ardently prays for rest;

with a heart full of funeral dreams,

‘I shall lie down on my back and roll myself up in your curtains,

o refreshing darkness!’

Charles Baudelaire

The Apocalypse within

LiveJournal Tags: a mindful of contradictions

There is the perpetual conflict with the intellect.We are always curious about what we don't know,however mindless  and irrelevant that might be.Why is that?When something just ends abruptly ,we try to figure why?,maybe its best that we stay in the dark,but well it bothers me,distracts me even.We cannot stop judging people,what can we do,it is indeed inborn.We are bound by something that makes us and breaks us,defines us ,disciplines us,helps us discriminate the right from wrong?!..the society

And yet we find ourselves broken,greedy,envious,twisted,complicated,and well..curious about things which could possibly be beyond us.There is no stand i take,but it is just the perplexities that i will never be able to decipher .Does that annoy me?very much so.Because i fear one day i might lose myself in this labyrinth while on my mission to quench my thirst for answers.As  we lay in this perpetual state of being mystified,we peek  through a window,from the outside rather than the other way round which ironically we call ‘observation’ rather than fulfilling our constant need to satisfy our curious selves-a euphemism for being judgmental and intrusive..

Those lucid moments ..
that create moments of stillness that we want to hold onto
and all we are left with at the end ..
are specks of dust and echoes
 echoes that reverberate in the empty skies in which we try to find meaning
and warmth
and finally ascend to a realm of oblivion..