I know nothing I m so ordinary,
I m so old yet I don’t know wat is my story.
I wipe so many tears As I walk away,
I feel I m know one so I shud stay.
I turn around ,
I stare and drown.
Alone as I go to the temple of daily thoughts..
One precedes the other,
and the other lies against all odds.
I see N wonder how much there is to it,
Of lost thoughts and some missing hits.
Unevenness of glistening emotions,
Unfriendly public and lucid notions.
How much have I taken before?
How much is their still to be given back,
Of those which I adore?
In the love of life,
Some betrayals are yet to be identified.
One season shook me,
The other beholds back.
The preaching’s of yesterday and today,
Glories faiths and miseries lay.
Tonight I will search for a normal tone,
Not a word of sympathy and a pretending soul.
Some things which I know from before,
Some things which I will pile and think,
Think and rethink in the waves of shore.
I compile here with no results,
With shallow blankness and mourning guilts.
Never will I speak of it again.
As I leave from here,
There will be no shelter.. nothing like what is everywhere.
I will be on my own..
that.. ... what is me what everyone has known!
I m so old yet I don’t know wat is my story.
I wipe so many tears As I walk away,
I feel I m know one so I shud stay.
I turn around ,
I stare and drown.
Alone as I go to the temple of daily thoughts..
One precedes the other,
and the other lies against all odds.
I see N wonder how much there is to it,
Of lost thoughts and some missing hits.
Unevenness of glistening emotions,
Unfriendly public and lucid notions.
How much have I taken before?
How much is their still to be given back,
Of those which I adore?
In the love of life,
Some betrayals are yet to be identified.
One season shook me,
The other beholds back.
The preaching’s of yesterday and today,
Glories faiths and miseries lay.
Tonight I will search for a normal tone,
Not a word of sympathy and a pretending soul.
Some things which I know from before,
Some things which I will pile and think,
Think and rethink in the waves of shore.
I compile here with no results,
With shallow blankness and mourning guilts.
Never will I speak of it again.
As I leave from here,
There will be no shelter.. nothing like what is everywhere.
I will be on my own..
that.. ... what is me what everyone has known!
3 comments:
There was a flow
Probably was a bit slow
May be because
It was you, who own
I sensed feelings, which have never come out before,
Restore,
Were you yearning for something?
A doubt
Which never made way?
To anyone’s heart and stay
Try not to use short forms when writing a poem
Though Emotions are there; and so is the rhythm
I liked the line ‘coma struck body’; I read it twice, while I passed through ‘death’.
Death……. Death!
Then I half read, ‘the way we did’.
I imagine, it could have been a part of the upper para’s before you died in the 'death'.
Rich in words you are.
Must be reading fictions since your first month…
Eight months after, you were named gunjan.
I have loved mahadevi verma, sumitranandan pant.
My hindi ma’am… and my uncle… it was in 8th then..
I read ‘mera bachpan’ after that…
It was really good hun.
'haaye mera bachpan lauta do'
Don’t have time to scroll down
Will sum up…
"Don’t take yourself seriously,
just pen down and make merry".
Loved it though…
Power to pen. You will earn good.
Narayan kaudinyA
Precision.
The fact that the realization of existence of the "outline" comes only when it is forced to offer resistance and to show itself through a stimuli viz. the environment, although it is always present, waiting to be discovered and used consciously is extraordinary. An idea well captured and words given to thoughts of thinkers who have the ability to ponder over the "I".
ust flowed on...like the solway...!
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