Invocation: poetry

Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

What is it to be free,
To be independent?

Underneath the sky full of stars,
witness my land full of freedom,
where I walk carefree, with my head held high -
Free of fear, rape, and molestation,
Of the baseless justification,
And that hateful identification.
A land full of familiar faces,
Beyond caste, beyond races,
To take pride without prejudice -
In whoever, I Love, still, unafraid,
In whatever I eat, grass or dead meat,
Free to chose what I speak -
for what I seek,
to hear, deep within my heart;
is that blissful call of freedom!

But, do you know,
what is it to be free,
To be independent?

Where our fathers, won the battle, not long before,
The land of Nehru, Gandhi, Bhagat, Bose and many more -
Bestowed, to us, this land full of freedom.
War is over, yet, what is it,
That we, still, keep waging? This silent wailing?
Born of this rage, a droplet of hatred,
My brainwashed brothers!
While Kashmir burns,
another Dalit is set to fire,
another state stands divided,
yet, another angry Naxalite
flaming this invisible ire,
bracing, yet, another fight,
and embracing the hands of invisible independence.

But why?
Why did we trade our freedom?
And to whom?

This Illusion of choice -
The rigged election, yet another fiction.
A fable, anointing a handful of proud pigs,
This illusion of choice -
Disillusion of divide and rule! While,
My brothers of Khaki and the sisters who smile,
The sons of poverty and daughters die in distraught,
While these battles, that are still fought,
This illusion of choice -
Voting for this, The choice of hatred over peace,
The invisible boundaries that still divide us - awhile -
the freedom of fancy coveted lives we live upon.
Divide us, and they shall rule.

Wake up!

Here and now, Unite. Quit this inner fight.
Get up, Stand up,
Stand up, for your rights!
Look beyond, these invisible shackles, the bondage
Look beyond, Men behind those masks, coming of age,
to sell us out,
sinister schemes, bogus bills, hypocritical hypothesis -
that become The Blind Law,
and us? The proud law abiding citizens.
- A trap, a loop, a labyrinth of lies,
and then, this here is their version of our freedom!

But do they know,
What is it to be free,
To be independent?

The symbols, anthems, this fake preach of patriotism,
Taxation, reservation, my constitution, this holy inhibition,
Speech, politics, blasphemy, to set me free?

"Go to work, have kids, send them to school,
obey all rules, follow the fashion and pretend all's cool,
act normal, walk on the pavement, watch the Television,
trade your youth, save for the future, remember the vision,
keep your eyes close, cover your senses and obey the law,
it's alright! A brave new world, without any flaw.
Now, repeat after me:
We are free, We are free, We are free..."

And all this while we raise the flag
and sing the anthem,
decorate ourselves with the tricolor,
remember our heroes and forget this moment,
our chests out in adoration, in pride,
and minds shut off objective fiction.
Year after year, the same,
the nationalistic kills the idealistic,
And that's the end of this game,

The game of freedom. "We are free, we are free, we are free..."

But, did you understand,

what is it, to be free,
To be independent?

***

[About]

As per all recorded evidence, India gained independence on August 15, 1947.

70 years later, the question remains the same,

What is it, to be free,

To be independent?

***

Born off nothing, a knowledgeable void,
No caste, creed, religion or sect,
neither identification nor dissection of the Self -
until, you made this innocent heart of mine devoid
Of that one true love and universal respect;
by pouring it all - all that you preach,
brimming my empty vessel with all that you teach . . .

Thankfully I know now how to stretch my palm out
Or fully fold them in supplication,
I know now how to cover my head with a fancy cap
or just join the fancy chorus with my thunderous clap,
And sometimes I shout out, after them,
my prayers and those sacred mantras;
But for whom I know not, not at all.

Thankful to you, I know who I am,
or at least pretend to classify
my identity within the realms of your false stories;
I have known to walk the holy path,
without knowing where does it lead to;

And I have memorized my holy scripts,
by hook or crook, even swear by the holy book -
without knowing the underlying esoteric meanings.
And I know my fatwas, the despicable seven sins,
the rule of Karma and all the exaggerated drama;
But, still, somewhere fail to tame the animal reigning deep inside.
And sometimes you forbid to indulge in my harmless cravings,
instead insist it's my duty to kill, against my inner will -
So, I bathe my hands red over your invisible promises;
But I feel lost - losing the long battle with my inner Self!

Here I am! to confide in you, The Unknown,
With whom rarely do I now feel acquainted;
rather seldom blinded by the invisible boundaries -
that divide me from my brothers, and thy blessing hand;
obscured under too many stories, symbols and a plethora of golden rules.

And once a while, they command me to celebrate
and rejoice these dictated moments of freedom, so I pray -
Dear Father,
Tell me there still is the ray,
that shimmering rare ray of hope!

Wake us from this illusion,
Our favorite accepted delusion.
During these moments of festival,
when we are compelled - To bow down and be pious,
Pretending to bask in your glory,
while recounting your true eternal story -
Come out and show us a sign,
Ring a bell in our deaf ears,
for those years of creation and manifestation
shall not flush into darkness and extinction.

Father! I pray to Thee - to set us free!
Send The Prophet; to us;
May the harbinger bring to us;
the one true message you want us to
bask in; for now; and for time immemorial -
this festive, awaken us, oh heavenly Father;
deliver on to us, thy true message of Love!

Eid Mubarak!
Courtesy - Cheena

* * *

[About]

Coming of age, a disillusioned youth goes to his innocent past and questions the "teaching" of his religion.

Religion and all the belief system surrounding it - festivals included - are human invented devices to interpret and understand the infinite Love of the cosmic universe within the boundaries of our imagination.

But have we truly understood what we openly preach and believe with such unshakable belief?

Do we really understand our Gods, the rituals, the sacred mantras, the fancy dogma and all the hidden symbols and rules,

or do we simply consummate the inner power and empower ourselves with judgmental wrath and spit it out blatantly on our brothers at the behest of religion?

Think!

This festive, let us all wake from this deep slumber to embrace the blinding white light of effervescing universal Love!

Do you remember our

first kisses flying during the fiery first date?

I do, too, Like 'twas yesterday,

that same funny feeling, when Honey

you breathed close enough to be my breath

soaring my dreams really high

with my veins underlaid beneath your kiss

as our naked souls laid under the fuzzy monsoon sky

and how we rode through the roadway of bliss.

And now, when those eyes call us old,

Look - We did it, you and me -

for the warmth of our love, hasn't turned cold,

when no one came, for us, we set ourselves free.

Staring at my eyes, she

for the last time shyly hid

her wrinkled fingers entwined with mine,

as her ring - our symbol of love

still continues to shine

like the twinkling stars above.

And although,

"Our days might not last forever,

the countless memories shall outlive us."

[About]

This poem is narrated through the eyes of an 'old' couple, who have basked in each other's never ending love for a long time to have experienced each other's blissfulness.

Love is the answer, for those who have truly found it.

And although our physical bodies might not sustain this endless vibration, the countless memories that we curate and experience with our loved ones will surely last across through the timeless boundaries of life.

Some days I like myself chained

to the false dreams

that sway me to the shores of nowhere land,

while some days, barefoot, I put

my favorite white dress on,

and as the sun keeps shining high

like the waves that keep soaring higher,

I feel the breeze break my chains to release 'her'

from the shackles of lies, all the while

I wet my bare body and dance in style

to the highest clouds of my imagination

to feel it all, all that is -

while this illusory freedom, from the kingdom

of imperfection

casts away like a picture in perfection.

About the Poem

Beach. An amalgamation of the endless water dancing to the wild tunes of the breezy air around, the infinite Earth kissing the sole of your bare feet, with the omnipresent Sun setting the perfect mood for the moment. Beaches make you go crazy - don't they?

This poem is about one of those moments when you let yourself lose while discovering your true self at the beach.

Do share your experiences in the comment section.

Beach Please!

Dwelling in darkness, living in fear,

"Oh dear! Where are you?"

Her weary eyes beseech him to stay

for just a little longer. . . Ah!

Those momentary pain of separation,

of devoured expectation,

only to make her stronger -

until that strongest moment,

wherein she became

strong enough to sway away

The doorway to freedom,

of those unchained desires -

to step out, out into -

the overwhelmingly brimming

bright light's spectrum!

* * *

About this poem:

I like late night scribbling random lines to an intriguing image prompt, like the one above. This was a part of some online poetry competition on one of famous social networking sites.

The words oozed out as an ode to those entrapped souls with self-inflicted wounds - keeping themselves 'chained' to some one else's expectations or unfulfilled desires. The idea is - only after a major setback and failure that enough courage is mustered to sway away that imagined doorway to freedom!

Loops, desires - more looped desires,
mere thoughts that you care
so much!
Entering these never ending loops here, now,
of mere urges
that still surges
under your pants,
in response of that solo thought -
you know that,

Of, what you have known all along.

And after the sweet juicy exchanges,

shall be the regrets that keep following

your inner subconscious,

along with those inner battles that,

you still have to wage -
within, or without -
with great rage,
and greater egoism
shall not recede till you took control.

And in each of those moments that you ever
have imagined having experienced love,
could be simply a lie,
a vessel full of lust,
that you must
vacate if you wish to spiral through to the
realms of heaven, or
embrace that, what you fear the most -
to be tolerated, or
maybe even hated
but never loved - if that's all you've ever want.

I might say,
"Hey! It is fine not to have someone,
to kiss, to miss,

or to cuddle,

to make love to,
or simply fuck",
but with luck,
you might have someone
in sight, or
might even
lay your dirty hands all over her
and her body,
but, never tune into thy rowdy soul
or vice versa - whatever!

And then?

Recover,
from this sickness - the disease
of wanting to be in love,
unless,
you completely demystify
one realm after another - like
the unfolding of a thousand petaled lotus -
that manifests only with divine focus.

How can I not judge my feelings,
when that is all this wretched society has taught,
and the one I should make love -
all life long - is bought,
in an exchange - with heaps of materialism,
silently being preached by thy schism
of darkness.

Whilst the wandering stars are overhead,
again -
inviting me to waltz and embrace
my darkest demons,
and to find that true love,
beyond the union of physical bodies,
beyond realms of false promises and
beyond all those lies -
that you narrate to get laid,
'coz one day -
all of this shall fade -
And then,
That one day -
Don't shy,
To say, That I,

didn't love you when,

the darkness, the lightness, and the river
of your imagined love
dries up under the scorching heat
of truth and self-introspection.

Suspicion?

Give me a reason not to,
Or let's say,
give me another reason not to
love you,
and I shall love you again!

There are things

you can never get enough of,

There always have been,

in perhaps all our lives,

Moments that,

we secretly crave to hold on to,

Forever,

But it too receded like :

The tears of that mother who bids you farewell

in fear,

of not knowing when the tears,

of joy come next,

Or like the moisture of

the lips of that brother who knows when he sees you next,

He'll be showering in gifts, again,

Or of the crackling voice of that father,

feeling cold from the other end

of the phone for not watching you climb those last steps of the metro station,

So he keeps calling to check,

If the next time would be soon,

Or like the warmth you felt

At the center of your heart

after hugging that friend who secretly prays,

you surprise them again,

for revisiting

Or recreating

Those moments of silly laughter and bidding you with

A handful of promises to meet soon,

Soon?

The random faces you keep crossing

Or the random paths you keep walking,

And keep calling everything home,

How you wish,

These lasted just a moment longer,

Just a little?

And then you gaze across to meet the

Setting sun

And your forehead explodes

With brimming knowledge,

That all things must pass,

For nothing is permanent,

Not you,

Not these moments,

Or these men,

Or their laughter,

Neither the tears

With accumulated fears,

Not the natural beauty,

Not the night, Nay the day...

For only when all passes

Can the new be made way for,

So with a heavy heart and a smile on your lips

You let slip this moment

And embrace what comes next,

A tear trickles,

Finally to ingest,

All of this, and then more,

And a lot left,

To summon in between,

While the sun sets down

After secretly craving,

It could have stayed longer,

Just a little?

Longer...

To my imaginary friend,

who dances to the tunes

of my imagination

and understands all the depths of my conversation

as no abstraction,

but as a divine manifestation

of what I have ever dreamed,

And while, this moment in all its perfection

or Imperfection,

as your imagination may have

perceived,

or received by the forces of five senses,

slip out with such ease like the quick sand

and,

I scream to the heavens to seek an answer,

to questions, I have always been asked

by thy hallow voices

of my head, that won't recede

till I am

dead,

or alive

but, never to be remembered

or heard,

unless the voice of my imaginary friend,

echoes through my spine,

to drag thy through the temple of divinity -

for my time has come,

to be here and now,

and to embrace all that I still fear, or

to let go of

ego -

and the whimsical urge,

that still surge

through the wailing walls of

my aching heart -

slowly,

oh yes! very slowly

to melt away into labyrinths of pattern,

or vibrate to unify into

that one consciousness,

or that one vibe

emanating from thy cosmic tribe

that we all -

you, me -

and my imaginary friend

have all -

belonged since eternity.

So, Oh! dear divinity -

Blessings you continue to shower,

no matter if

the signs have receded

however -

for us and all of us are unworthy

or worthy,

of only

thee -

so breathe!

inhale -

us into your loving laps and,

exhale,

onto us thy love

and only that

one true cosmic love!

Have you met a gypsy?

I have.

You'll know that moment when you meet one!

You're basking in her good vibes.

That familiar carefree movement - her arms swaying in a rhythmic motion, harmoniously sync with her lanky legs.

Vibrant colors dripping from her clothes paint the canvas of your imagination.

The carefree child-like voice leaves an eternal smile on your face while you watch her animated conversations.

You'll know.

A smile so enchanting!

You crave to fill your ears with her laughter.

Attracted to that beatific glow on her face, you are astonished how beautiful and easy it is to be a happy soul.

Before long, you start longing for her to stay.

And don't you start getting high on your own.

Wait for the gypsy to show you the way! Already!

For the gypsy opens her arms to let it all within and without.

Cusp your face and gently whispering to your ears:

But you are a free spirit, the one that must sway;

always looking for a chance to do your own;

to be your own person;

to have things done your own way;

Come dream the impossible dream!

She caresses your hair and embraces you with the sweetest goodbyes and fares you well.

You'll know - it would be your longest sigh!

This Haiku is dedicated to my favorite gypsy.

Happy Birthday :)

Shivani
{{{The Feminine Half of God
Wife of lord Shiva!
Bholenath}}}

***

Read an ode to The Gypsy.

Read more Haikus.

"One good thing about music,

when it hits you,

you feel no pain."

Bob Marley

A man born in forgotten Jamaican streets during the troubled war era rises to stir one of the biggest international uprisings along with almost single-handedly gifting the musical world with a beautiful new word called Reggae.

I dedicate this to you!

Haiku 03

Bob Marley ( February 6, 1945 - ∞ )

There are moments in your life when your inner calling guides you to connect your music player, set it to shuffle mode, turn on, tune in and drop out!

This haiku comes from two unrelated tracks that my phone decided to play in succession one fine morning.

A smile decorated the moment when I started humming the lyrics and stared outside at the racing tall green coconut trees.

Haiku 02

Three Little Birds.

Often in our life's eternal journey we come across bridges.
A dilemma is essential while making the choices that your heart and mind battle out.
We either walk to the other side in hope to find all that we imagine would quench our desires, or
light a fire to burn the bridge down.

Shimmering scintillating screen,

Clouds cover cast shadow.

Light! No illusion.

I am a gypsy. Look at me, what do you see?
Eternally embracing thy bright light,
guided by intuition be always right.
Fingers twirling at green glowing grass,
this sick society’s labeled to upper-lower class.
And all this painful pain be an illusion,
Won’t you defy thy delusional confusion?
Tell me why the fight o’er whose right.
Or wrong, all be in your head till you drop dead.
I am living, alive and breathing,
feeling His presence, I am unwinding.
Dizzy, dazed or confused, what may I be?
‘Coz I am a gypsy, look at me, I broke free

Let me walk till the very end,
And my soul to never ever bend.
To glow with pride, my mind mend to fight,
'Coz this world's a crazy stage.
Crazy mindset mummified with age,
Then why you look at me like this,
When my charisma chimes in eternal bliss.
Needs quenched by nature, my mother,
Earthy, watery, fiery, my brother.
Why do I go on with a look so forlorn,
To pretend or not, veiling mask before you ask.
You are a soul, complete and whole,
Peaceful and calm like the mighty tree.
Now, close your eyes as I count till three,
'Coz I am a gypsy, look at me, I broke free!

Everyone can venture everywhere, save your mind,
Open your heart, your intuition remains to find.
Not here, not there, He rests on your holy spine,
Connect thy inner eye, let Him shimmeringly shine!
Your body be a temple of the lord,
Won't you let him in peace, attuned at His accord.
The prayers have been answered,
What becomes of You, have you wondered?
Wounded, defeated, battered but not dead,
miles to walk and several stories etched in my head.
Gracious grass glides through my hand,
life slipping through like castles made of sand.
I fear nothing! supplicated under Thy reflection,
attuning my inner self for thee holy communication.
Young youthful forever be me,
Yes! I am a gypsy, my heart's been long set free.

Look at me, I am liberated, but how?
Sweet disposition, living loving now!
Fingers twirl at green glowing grass,
Growing gypsy defying classified class.
And every time my head flows like a Frisbee,
Feels like floating freely across the brim of thy loving sea.
Happiness a choice echoed my voice,
Counting stars and no more darn dollar,
All be bundles of boring printed papers,
Imagining my life to quench my inner will,
Awakened! Seeking divine love for voids to fill.
Mantra chants you must day and night,
Take your focus off the evil useless fight.
Going through ages, plundered and butchered,
All must end, will His love be returned?
Bholenath! You must count till three,
And set the gypsy inside finally free.

Guggloo!

Some say I am lost,
losing away youth to nothingness.
Some say I am a dreamer,
dreaming away life into wilderness.
To them I sing, not all who wander are lost,
The mountains are calling and I must go!

I am happy basking in the unknown,
wrapping my soul in mysticism.

Watch me climb another hillock,

as you dare to dream within costly chains of complacency.

Daughter of Gaia I am, blissfulness be my soul's sole purpose,
The mountains are calling and I must rise!

The sun soars in the east, hides to the west,
when was last you gazed nature at its best?

My home's an illustrated book, many doodles diving through,

and many miles to walk, before dreamy dying eyes watching without clue.

Not the killing, but disorder - the inner disorder we must do,
The mountains are calling, and I must fly!

Nothings wrong, nothings right,

everything resides in your mind.

Do I get to sing one last time,

before you decry another crime.

Every step you take becomes a mistake,
The mountains are calling, and I must escape!

Do I know myself or the one you taught,
with dime and dollars all but nature be bought.

You have a beautiful open mind,

only inner beauty be blissful joy.

And I no more cry crawling for desires,
The mountains are calling, and I must try!

Shutting my eyes to listen low,

prying open thy third eye to let flow.

Sleep walking wearily when I can fly,

to seize all from maya; the cosmic lie.

Watered enough the lotus now must bloom,
The mountains are inviting, and I must boom!

Pray thy prayer to thy preyer,

before time slips off to now or never.

Imbecile spineless sinners slyly grin along,

won't you help sing the last love song?

For united we rise, divided we must fall,

When the mountains call, I must go!

Life delicately designed of momentary moments,

gratitude be my only attitude.

Why worry when He knows it all,

Floating freely, answer thy inner call.

The mountains are singing, and I must dance!

Future flies fast, past passes faster,

this present moment to ever last.

Breathe His beauty connecting with the One,

I bow low front thy moon and the sun.

Entering ecstatically into the magical void,

The mountains called, and I enjoyed!

What becomes when thee finally floating free,

no thing be nothing, all men must die!

Then why cry breathing delusional illusion,

when this life be His immortal impression.

Forever finding true blissfulness, sat-chit-ananda!

The mountains are calling, and I am gone!

*Kitta*

~ Bholenath.

*Shortlisted as this week's top "OneFrameStory"

#OFS65.

Invocation

[Poem] An Ode to Freedom.

| Poem | Eid Mubarak!

|Poem| The Wrinkled Love.

| Poem | Beach Please!

| Poem | The Doorway to Freedom.

|Poem| Flower of Love.

|Poem| The sunset that lasted a little longer.

|Poem| My Imaginary Friend.

#Haiku04 : Shivani

#Haiku03 : Bob Marley.

#Haiku02 : Three Little Birds.

#Haiku01: Burning Bridges.

#Haiku : Inspiron.

The Gypsy.

Mountains Calling!

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