The music of language, intricate rhyme schemes, elegant phrases, vivid images - the art of poetry is enough to inspire many to write it. Poetry is the practice of creating artworks using language. What could be a better way than discovering the music inside yourself than Poetry? Words are the soul of any rythm, any sort of music.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
How was your day?
When we talk we always have something to say.
Our lives so different yet the same.
Every night we play the game.
We talk of families and about our day.
I always wonder if there's more to say.
Could it have been different for you and I?
Or was fate decided before we could have tried?
For now we play our parts, that's all that's left;
Never knowing if our hearts would have met.
Two people from far away, always asking, "How was your day?"
- A poem by Dreamer. One of my all time favourites.
Monday, June 25, 2007
A MAN IS BORN!
When a child is born
In this world full of thorns
His incarnation is celebrated
His parents congratulated
But, no one thinks of the agony of the child
Who has no power to speak and smile
Timid in the proximity of unheard
Alone in this world so less observed
He starts instilling in himself
A power to endure the very self
The father infuses mettle
The mother, in him, principle
She teaches him to judge the right
He, to go and fight
To respect and accept life as it comes
In need, to take on the world one on one
The child starts coming to light
Inculcating the capacity to look into the bright
He grows up to be a boy
Leaving his nature of being coy
Breaking every barrier and command
Defying every rule and demand
Starts to experiment with whatever he can find
To solve the quest in his mind
The pledge is not to win or lose
But to keep chasing the wild goose
The journey in the unexplored continues
Until he reaches the life’s blues
For what happened was never thought
For what was thought never ought
The time has arrived
To realize his might
To ponder and to change
As infinity is not the range
He questions the mortal essence
The purpose of his very existence
Unable to quench his thirst for satisfaction
Rambles in the dark forests with desperation
He finds himself trapped in a black hole
Trying to reach for his lost soul
For the first time in his journey
He feels so weak and lonely
He is not afraid to die
But, because he finds no reason to bid good bye
He approaches for friends
Who can help him defend
Against the feelings so dumb
He finds himself so numb
He cries in vain
To ease the pain
Pleading for a helping hand
Yelling in the secluded land
There is no one to lend an ear
To his never ending prayer
Even god does not favor
He keeps losing strength and vigor
Suddenly, an angel enters his life
Which makes him realize
What happened was another long chase
Thick fog enveloping a tricky maze
This was another startling revelation
His life gets a new definition
His resentment has gone
For now, a man is born!
- Sandy