Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Without a legitimate title

I have been away since quite some time now. The excuse is ofcourse, cramming. At a certain speck, life gets really prosaic. Anyhow, the purpose of this post is to air a new poem. This is a bit ancient. I had inked it at the age of 12 or maybe 13. A month before my 14th birthday,to be more precise. So here it is..

I am not impeccable,
and nowhere nigh to it,
i've made a gob of bungles,
that you can't even guess.
I like to plummet and plunge,
just like an anklebiter,
but that's just one facet of me,
i splash other colours with time.
I give my feet a rest and think about others,
more than i deem about myself,
i can be my own guardian,
but about the others, i can't tell.
I tend to break down pronto,
and every so often for no brains at all,
Jane Q may call me a batty she,
but their theories to me are of no magnitude.
I like to paint my visage,
and I can be boisterous,
i'm not always so insipid,
i'm just a bit too numskulled.
I nosedive and tend to lose -
all my troth,
but i've burnt midnight lamp on getting up to treat my bruises,
so that's what I do.
I keep faith in me more than anyone else,
because i've known myself for long,
other's concepts don't seem to,
worry me at all.
Despite of all these flaws and foible,
i think i'm pretty hunky dory,
i stand alone with my uniqueness,
and forever will be the same.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Don't hit back or talk back to people who have been intrusive. It will just make you fall into their pigeonhole. Learn to forget and forgive to fall into a division which is way beyond others' league.
- me

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

God in all

This sphere is an ethereal corner,
with beautiful, exemplary heads,
some embrace the bonne qualit├ęs,
and others endorse to pillar the bad.

No one has arrived sinful to the sublunary world,
nobody can abscond sinful from this globe,
just as clean as a whistle and as innocent as a lamb,
every error is disrobed.

God has a spot in all our souls,
which makes us all so pure,
no matter how lowbred we strike as,
a congenial person guards us from within our thoughts.