13.7.09

Mired in Gloom



As the melancholy creeps in
Taking with it the resplendent joy
Of making it this far
Up to the very Lacroix*.
But now it’s just me
And you are nowhere to be found
The miracle, I know now,
Was nothing but a sweet lie.
It’s just the silence that surrounds
Drowns me in its depth profound.
My soul beseeches to be found.


The walls –declivitous, confine me in.
Sunshine seems a thing of yore.
The sky still distant
Beckons no more.
And solitary I stand
The shadows I do not fear
Memories turn to fantasies
Hope converts into a vision of wonder.
On a gloomy night, I fill myself with grief
As life drowns in pools of tears,
And life drowns in pools of tears.

* Lacroix- is a crater on the Moon

9.7.09

Contradiction- construed.



There's no escaping it. There's no escaping you. No matter what I do, where I go, you always seem to find a way in.

Wherever I go
I find you staring
Back at me
My own reflection
The mocking smile, plastered all over your face. More like a Mona Lisa than a Cheshire cat. The spark in your eyes- alarming, intimidating.

The eyes- effeminate
Moist, but sparkling
Accusing nonetheless
Of crimes unnerving.

You wanted me to shut up. I did that. So, why are forcing me to do this? Why do you want me to open the Pandora's box of emotions welled up inside me?
It is not easy
To hold it all in
The emotions, they are
All bottled within.
I don't know why you feel I ridicule you. True, my words sound malicious multiple times. But are you not intelligent enough to understand that I do not intend to hurt you?? But perhaps, it is not your fault at all. I'm a leettle too good at concealing it and concealing it well.
A trifle too good
I am, I'm aware,
At concealing it all
Pretending I don't care
And in the process of hiding from everyone, I seem to have lost myself. Completely. But,
Lest you say
I forgot you, my dear
Do understand-
I'm not what I appear.
The reason I ridicule you (for if that's what you still think) is to avoid the hushed whispers, the wiggle-waggle. 
Does that clear anything, Mr. Distorted Tube-lights?
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Author's note: The poem posted earlier- Contradiction- was not a poem at all. It was all part of a small write-up, addressed to a certain someone. I had written it, yes... but I had never intended to actually post the entire thing here and I never intended to show it to anyone, either. Ironically, I have just done exactly that. Why? I don't know. 

8.7.09