Solar System in Suspension

I wonder what happened to that

Wondrous little seedling

That wakes up at midnight, craving for milk

But then he reaches for the stars

Instead of crying

Continue reading “Solar System in Suspension”

Advertisements

For A Poor Child Who Looks Up At The Skies

how i wish
I could see
the stars
of heaven

was the belt
of Orion
as heavy as a gem,

or as tattered
as jaagged
as tattered as mine?

how i wish
i could see
the stars
of heaven

were the brightest
of all
as obtainable at hand

or are they just wanderers
farther than the skies can go,
just a single spot of white?

how i wish
i could see
the stars
of heaven

were their rays
as radiant
as the good samaritans

or are they a blinding sight
with luster
but no radiance, just a twinkle

how i wish
i could see them
but they’re too sparkly

for a poor child like me
who looks up at the skies
but sees unreachable stars


All rights reserved. No part of this material may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, or written, without prior written permission from the author of this blog.
Photo rights to owner.

6:43

I won’t forget
Those shades
Of blue and white
Shining upon thee

It’s as if time has set
That place
Of darkness and light
Of peace and serenity

I won’t forget
Those shimmering shades
At six forty- three
the glow is thee


All rights reserved. No part of this material may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, or written, without prior written permission from the author of this blog.
Photo rights to owner.

A Reply to Ed Sheeran’s ‘Photograph’: Piece of Paper

It’s been a few years
But you didn’t come back to me
Those years, I’m in tears, for you
You set me free

Loving does hurt
Crushing my pride too much
Believing this fantasy
That’s fatal to latch

Either you gain, or you grieve for love
But I guess I won’t do it all again
For love is a room
Of endless space and darkness
Time’s never frozen nor still.

Should I keep this piece of paper
In my ripped jeans?
Tearing my spirit
’till we again, meet
where you left me all alone.

I waited for you to come home


All rights reserved. No part of this material may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, or written, without prior written permission from the author of this blog.
Photo rights to owner.

Magnetic Poem

If you think it was just a play of words
I shouldn’t have let you
If you think you can piece me like the way you want to
Think back, I work my own chords

Stick here, stick out
These thoughts from random, now into your coherence
Drop low, slip out
I won’t let your interference

Stop this change, from bark to phloem
I’m not your slave
Neither I’m a magnetic poem
Find someone else, someone you crave


All rights reserved. No part of this material may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, or written, without prior written permission from the author of this blog.
Photo rights to owner.

Immersion

There.
Enjoy these flashing lights,
while you can
while you still can.

Here.
Grasp them little by little
while you can
while you still can.

Oh no.
Chase after them!
before they’re gone
before they’re long gone.

I told you so.
Now you’re left
with nothing
all but nothing.

You should’ve held my hand
when you’re immersed
in these lights
these big, flashing lights

But you knew better for yourself.
That these lights
are better chased
better chased rather than us.


All rights reserved. No part of this material may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, or written, without prior written permission from the author of this blog.
Photo rights to owner.

The Little Drummer Boy

So three years ago I was trying to make a first: a short story. But I’m not too confident to share. I just don’t feel like someone will see it as a “pleasing work” for their standards. So I will just post it here:


THE LITTLE DRUMMER BOY

Parapampum- pum, parapampum- pum, rapampum- pum. There goes my sound. “I am living the dream” as what people should say. I play my life freely through my drums, sharing my music everyday. Or maybe not, for homelessness is even worse than living in slum. “What’s your name?” one passenger asks. But I silently hand a single envelope on each of their laps. I should show my talent first. Then sing my song, with the beat of my drum. The rhythm keeps the ride alive, but people find it irritating. But I don’t care, atleast I forget about life in a few seconds with a single tap.

Continue reading “The Little Drummer Boy”

‘A Virtual Escapade’: Ready Player One Book Review

Following the intense growth of Science Fiction and Dystopian genres, one must not un- acknowledge the presence of the one that let us imagine all those poorly governed utopias and the technological advancements: arcade games. These games has let us think deeper into the world of technology, and what could be of it in the future. And through these games this adventurous book has been of a blast. Ready Player One? Then insert your coin and let’s get started with this review of ‘Ready Player One’ by Ernest Cline.

Continue reading “‘A Virtual Escapade’: Ready Player One Book Review”