Lost and found.

                                                

Lost & Found

I pushed myself

the size of an elf

to gain entry  at noon

to lose the protective cocoon

of my mother's womb. 

to bury family hopes in wet tomb.

                                    I am a cursed gender.

Holding a pencil , book and tears
the prison of school 
imprisoned my thinking tool
to release my fears
labelled a slow learner
efforts pushed to the back burner.

                                 I was pronounced as a bad student.

Battling surging hormones
shying away from gaze of testosterones 
I shed my awkwardness
to a beautiful swan
to be called a temptress
out to tame every man.

                               I was branded as a bold woman.

stepping into corporate boardroom
with ethics , flying on a broom
at  crunching numbers a wizard
respected , sharp as a shard
broke the glass ceiling
numero uno , a fragrant feeling.

                           Everybody equated me to excellence.

I have found a new me.
I love and adore me
because my struggles are mine  
I have battled to become what I deserve.

For :  Poetry Jam

Sunset solitude

                               




                               



As i sit still
gaze at the canvas of the sky
splashed with myriad hues
the crimson, orange , red
assimilate with my trapped thoughts.

The colors, I inhale
and fill my lungs
i bid adieu to the rays,
as the darkness compels
to beat a retreat , I
usher into the refuge of loneliness
to exhale the colors on the white bare canvas.

Crowds throng
for a glimpse of my masterpiece.
A peep into my curtained life,
untouched , unseen are my thoughts.
Under the hammer , a handsome price fetched,
the price of my solitude.

                                          For : Poetry Jam

Gift.

                                                        
 




Life is a boon,
life is a blessing ,
life is a gift of God.

                                 cherish it,
                                 respect it,
                                 nourish it.

Life is a gift, 
life is a present,
so live in the present.

                                  bury the past.
                                  past is history,
                          let not history repeat itself.

ask a man
on the threshold of death
What is life?

                                     each day is a gift, 
                                 thank  when you awake,
                               thank when you go to bed.
                     
Live life to the brim,
live life as if 
there's no tomorrow.

                                   Live, and let live
                                     be the mantra
                                    for one and all.





                                 For :  Poetryjaam

               For :  Imaginary Garden-open link Monday

Lightning

                                                  



The clouds knitted its brow
the Heavens thundered,
shuddered , in the nest , a crow
the skies hollered.

But I stood defiantly
not a word or a scare
did not bat an eyelid , unflinchingly
nor fear dare, me, pierce.


Afraid , aren't you, my wrath?
I 've come thru the path
to meet you with arms open
for I 'm God's chosen.

tempest, hurricanes hurled
but faced all , not curled.
the sorrows and sadness , devils
are my life's medals,

that I wear close to my skin
after all the lightning and thunder
comes the calming rain.
soak, I, in the rainbow and color.














For : PoetryJam

The lost illusion

I kneaded the moist sand
with my bare hands
each grain rubbed my palm
and I felt a certain calm.

the warm rays filtering
on the surface of waves ,dancing.
Birds with the winds wrestling
hurry to their fledgling.

soaked into the fragrance of love
the aroma kissed my each curve
my mind danced with every move
my gaze never swerve.

castle , out of nothing I raised
blossomed , as I smiled.
unaware of the danger rolling
a wave battered my spirit , lashing.

I cried over the destruction
was it reality or a mere illusion?
I wove my dream
on a running stream.

stared , as it did away melt
but the pain in my heart dwelt.
retracing my steps , last
I tore away from my past.




FOR : POETRY JAM

FOR : THEME THURSDAY


                                             



You can read here too.

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What brings you comfort? Poetry? Music? A big old chair? Manicures or pedicures? Coffee or tea? Ice cream? Mom or Dad? Partners? A Higher Power?










                                                                  




 A woven fantasy of
six and twenty pearls
   a treasure-house 
       of wisdom . 

        A quiet companion,  
awakening my subconscious mind.
           In blissful state,
ignorant of the world around me.
             a guiding light,
a watch-tower of my views.

Shuffling of the bark leaves,
leaves me gasping for more.
The comfort food for thought,
I quench from its creative juices.

      When I close the book,
the tales , characters and plot
come out alive , to escort me
           from Utopia.

                                                           

                              For :  poetryjaam

Mirror

                                                        


           
 Mirror Mirror on the wall                
a friend on call
The new hair cut
the winter embroidered coat
Thou reflected with sincere.

                                                             



Mirror Mirror on the wall
Why do we always brawl?
the pimple , acne or a bad hair
Why do you reflect it so fair?
A white lie will make me feel bigger.



Mirror Mirror on the wall
look , I am so tall
on the run , just a glance
Heavy literature , no fun and dance
till  i finish University.



Mirror Mirror on the wall
who does in my heart dwell?
roses on my cheek
inhaling Cupid's aroma , eyes speak.
Life is a dream.




Mirror mirror on the wall
I am on the way to aisle , entrall
The kohl-ed eyes and jewels jingle
jasmine fragrance and blush mingle
Most happiest moment, I bask.

      

         
                                   
The umbilical cord was snapped apart
and you bonded with my heart.                                                            
with my unclear sight
I stared at the blue in your eyes, bright
reflecting back my tears,
I wiped them. Shrugged my fears.

Mirror Mirror, You can wait
while with my joy , I date  





Mirror Mirror on the wall
my salt and pepper crown , dual
I smile back with content
every fulfilled dreamt.





Mirror Mirror on the wall
Thanks for the times all
Time is nearing with every breath
hold my finger , a new journey , dear death.

Mirror is a constant companion, a true friend from childhood to death , reflecting faithfully without fear and favour. Though  mute on the wall , it speaks voluminous truth , whether we like it or not.

Read this beautiful poem  Mirror by Slyvia Plath.


For :  poetryjaam  


           

Alphabets.

              From the deepest oceans,
              the twenty and six pearls,
               stared at me, smilingly.
      various combinations and permutations,
                   I string each word ,
                  to form sentences.
        Words and sentences fuse together
                to complete a story.
           of a  beautiful adornment. 


             A beautiful adornment
               Completes a story.
       words and sentences fuse together
                to form sentences.
               I string each word
     into various combinations , permutations.
            stared at me, smilingly, 
           the twenty and six pearls,
             from the deepest oceans.


This is a palindrome poem. The last line of the first verse is the first line of the second verse. and the first line of the first verse is the last line of the second verse. I have made subtle changes to the second verse.


For : PoetryJam

october

The green festoons flutter in October
to the tune of the chill breeze.
So happy with Nature, what doth thy utter? 
I captured this moment on my lens to freeze.

Many misty morning, 
with woollens on, I causally tread.
skeletal frame, bare standing 
yellow carpet, beneath,  spread.

I sat on the bench wooden,
dry leaves at my feet rustling
with a heavy heart laden
I avoided them crushing.

The worker with his broom long
gathered the debris dry 
with a whistle on his lips and a song
my eyes wished for a cry.

He set the heap on fire
the flames burnt the pyre
reduced to ashes black
As I turned back

On a final depart
the tree gracious
To mankind , a lesson impart
exuded warmth, generous.

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The tree with its leaves and flowers is a living symbol of sacrifice , always giving  to mankind and in death , it burns to give warmth to the atmosphere and making way for new leaves to sprout, continuing the cycle of rejuvenation. 



For : PoetryJam