The Once Close

The Once Close


I wonder when the night falls, where went my lucky star,
I couldn't cherish when nearby, so she has gone afar.
Oh how I miss the twinkling light- and the chirpy, birdy song,
Neither dusk nor dawn is here to stay- only a night that's long.

Sometimes she likes to surface, and the day starts getting bright,
Words flow forth like water, and the rhyming just gets right.
And I forget and put behind me, the 364 no moon's night,
The heavy heart flutters, as she says- let there be light!

A demi-god, mythical and pure, she's beyond approach or reproach,
I thank my stars, for the annual 'darshan', beyond that I can't encroach.
She needs her space, I heed my time - and respect that now she'll be gone.
And I'll be back to writing poems of love- hopeful and alone.

Pining for a single glance, lie I won't!
Do you know her asks Facebook, Of course I don't!





 

Reverberations

Reverberations

Silent and still, disturbed a bit, ripples spreading wide,
Throw down a line, to hang on to, to carry through the tide.
Be clam again, get re-centered, advice that's pretty sound,
Suppress that drive, put checks on it, lest turbulence be loud.

The tiniest flicker of the flame, that its end may be nigh,
Pour more oil in, move up the wick, that it may never die.
The wavering light, the shifting shadows, the dark dance of the night,
Move up the glass, hold up the wind, and burn with all your might.  

Some pressure here, a firm goad there, its finally getting to form,
the furnace's fury, or the care of the wheel, the potter is equally torn.
A tiny window, when it can be shaped, post that it becomes brittle,
An untimely blow, its back to pieces, cold water poured a little.

Go breach the speed, aim for the moons, with precision aim high,
Detach a bit, do a course correction, and let there be debris in the sky.

The Fools Dream

Not only he hopes to reach it, he can see it as clear as the sky
The visions persist, they haunt his soul, he doesn't really know why.
The grail sought by many, infiltrates his dreams, he wanders all the day,
and when night falls, exhausted by the trail, his dreams come to a stay.

What happens to a dream that's ripe, and almost within one's grasp,
Does it get replaced by a dream that's far off, or does it really last?
For each dream kills the mind that dreams, some fester, while others roar,
and waking up, you conveniently forget, as hope walks out of the door.

If dreaming be a crime, hang the fool- with speed, and style,
what if others start to dream - oh plans such ugly and wile!
Not all dreams matter, aren't some just the opium of the soul- so ordinary,
But to dream of the grail, is beyond limits, how can he escape the drudgery?

Trading one dream for another, the fool deliberately loses sight of the grail,
Despite the sentence for life- he's on the move, making best use of the bail.

The Magician - III

This is a poem spread across multiple pages. Please read in order. Please click on links below to read the earlier passages from the poem.

The Fool - I.
The Fool - II.
The Fool - III.
The Fool - IV.
The Fool - V.
The Fool - VI.
The Fool - VII.
The Fool - VIII.
The Fool - IX.
The Fool - X.
The Fool - XI. 
The Fool-XII. 
The Magician-I.  
The Magician -II

While helping the Fool, the Magician found himself,
emboldened in his craft, drunk on power and pelf,
more calm, more composed, more sure of his plan,
he ventured forth to guide the Fool and his clan.
If this Fool be lost, there's no dearth of others,
to keep sacrificing for king, is the dream of mothers,
so nudge the Fool to try and jump again from the cliff
not caring if his neck from the earlier attempt is still stiff.
If this Fool wouldn’t stay and remain hooked to the Grail,
by finding another Fool, will the magician technically fail?
Is it the quest that's important, or to restore the Fool,
where does Magician’s power lie- he’s blowing hot and cool,
vacillating whether to take a brand new Fool under his wing,
Or to work with the Fool he has, and in him some sense bring.

For the Fool is disheartened, distraught and dismembered,
Its easy to see, without the Magician his days are numbered,
But how can the Magician breathe life into this almost near-death corpse,
he himself has learnt only a week back, how from caterpillar to morph
into a beautiful butterfly that can fly and spread its wings wide and far,
and bring smiles to others forgetting the pain of that birth hour.
for the rebirth he experienced made the Magician a man of note,
and many fools started lining up to morph, making him much sought.
But having experienced the magic, is not the same as being good at it,
The Magician is still not there, how to heal the Fool, he knows not a bit.
He can try lame things like making the Fool see the Grail,
and delude the Fool into believing the old Wives tale.
The tale that only a Fool with a  heart of gold,
can jump from the cliff again, be that bold.

But if the Fool never jumps again, how will he know,
whether Magician has healed him, he is raring to go,
not the Fool, but the Magician, for he has no skin in the game
if the Fool dies in the second attempt, it will be like someone came
and tried and died, but no big deal, we are all good
The fool was not the One, maybe another Fool could
accomplish with the Magician’s help what this one couldn’t
for this fool was either too bold, or too cautious, too prudent.
In either case, the defect lies with the Fool and his broken neck,
Not with the Magician or his craft or his ability to check
whether the Fool was ready once more, rejuvenated and upskilled
the second attempt may call for all he has got- this time he can get killed.
Does the Magician doesn’t care, or is he naive to think he can train
the Fool is still in the doldrums, how will he steer the winds and the rain?

For this time around, even the weather doesn’t look nice,
what does the fool care, he is ready to pay the price
price for his arrogance that he can heal a Fool in a week,
price for his naivety in believing that the Fool is not weak.
If the Fool doesn’t fly this time, people will ridicule and mock,
and if the Fool dies while jumping, the Magician will have to take stock
as to whether he will have any reputation left behind which he can hide
with the Fools death is tied the Magician’s fate, oh, the stars collide.
Let the second step be taken, let the Fool try again,
If he fares better this time, it will be our story’s gain.
The Fool meanwhile has quietly observed how the Magician tricks and treats,
and gently started believing in himself - to fake it till it beats.
His heart beats for the king, the grail, the quest, the end of war,
he will just believe that he can fly and spread his wings and soar. 

He may be sick, he may be weak, but he can conjure a dream,
while falling down he will ensure, to fall along a stream,
Not on the rocks that crush your bones, and dreams that go along it,
he’s learnt a lot about how to land, he’s not afraid to go for it.
This do or die, this wretched life, and glory just beyond it
he’s rolled his sleeves, to trick you into believing that he will wing it
He owes this power to his mentor, the Magician who made him deluded
and believed in the impossible, lived that dream, as they both connived and colluded
No magic seems strange or odd, once you know how it works,
the demon is not in the far off lands, somewhere nearby it lurks.
to slay the dragon, to get the grail, is the mission The Fool has internalized
he is ready to go his way again, not aware what the Magician for him has devised.
The magician has some devious plans, to bask in reflected glory
But alas the Fool that he is, he will, believe in this concocted story. 

Risk and Return

Risk and Return


You join a hunt, you know your odds, nine times out of ten,
You'll come back safe, maybe sans loot, but back in safe haven.
What happens on the tenth run though? You kill or get beaten,
You carry home a trophy prized, or arrive in a coffin.

The rules of game are clear as day, you have no choice but to play,
The night is descending fast and quick, just pick you gear without delay
A bow and arrow to strike from far, or a spear that can kill the prey,
You've been starved for long, no time to lose, quickly join the fray.

We know you are weak, in body and spirit, and want to rest a while,
The prize has been sighted, so buckle up fast- you have to run another mile!
Not only for you, for your family and clan, don't let this go futile,
Bring home a catch that is big and bold, and let everyone bask and smile.

Risking all you've got, you pledge to give it all, now that its your turn,
But the reality of a ruin, and an uncle point, make you sheepishly return.

The Magician - II

 

This is a poem spread across multiple pages. Please read in order. Please click on links below to read the earlier passages from the poem.

The Fool - I.
The Fool - II.
The Fool - III.
The Fool - IV.
The Fool - V.
The Fool - VI.
The Fool - VII.
The Fool - VIII.
The Fool - IX.
The Fool - X.
The Fool - XI. 
The Fool-XII. 
The Magician-I. 

Don’t tell us like the Fool, the Magician can fall,
if they all keep failing, who will answer the call,
the hero’s call of adventure, and unrelenting fun
more light-hearted perhaps they can easily run
the grim distance to be covered, for the quest to end
but how to cover it alone - everyone is at wits end!
How about a relay of sorts, let the baton be passed,
Let the Magician take over, from when the Fool passed.
Let the Fool rest for a while, let the Magician hog the light,
Anyway magicians are a better bet, few fools are ever right.
The Fool has completed his job, that of initiating the quest
The Magician is more than capable of finishing the rest.
Or is he as strong as he appears- is it not all but a grand projection?
isn’t it his tricks that make it seem- that the roots didn't lay in rejection.

Scorned by love, and dismissed by life
not measuring in his own eyes, belittled by wife
The Magician lived a dual life - one in which he ruled
and in the other felt powerless, helpless and doomed
While to the world he could lift mountains, or make them disappear
his inner world consisted, of constant anxiety and fear,
Fear of being discovered, fear of being a fraud,
of not getting standing ovations, of not getting applaud
this was his chance to shine - or so we would like to convince him
but remember he’s no fool, its not easy for us to con him
Only if there is genuinely something in it, for the magician’s pride
can we hope to enlist him - and take him for a ride.
For this will be a ride to remember, revealing to Magician his fate
whether he’s a common trickster or a man with extraordinary sleight!

For sleight of hand is not enough, in what he needs to do
He needs to put together the Fool again, reignite his bravado
Once shaken and stirred, its not easy to gain composure,
But isn't this the Magician’s forte, isn't it as per his stature!
He’s renowned for calm under duress, and for rejoining in flash
the people that have been disembodied, broken in spirit and flesh
broken to the point, where the quest seems meaningless,
will he rekindle their fires - let’s hope- God bless
the Magician for agreeing, to heal the Fool,
he’s really in charge here, the Mr Cool,
he can heal whats broken, or so he thinks,
hasn't healed himself in years, God he stinks!
Let the healing begin from self, Magician heal thyself
Let the journey start afresh, let the past be damned!

The burden of past, the shame of withdrawing from it all,
hiding behind a facade, appearing majestic and tall
The Magician is in a quandary- whom he attend at first,
The Fool and his broken arm, or look inward in disgust
and come up to terms with what he couldn't achieve earlier,
but given this second chance, can redeem and overcome fear
of being who he is- a common and ordinarily resilient man
no magician or superhero- nor Robin nor Batman!
Who’s apprentice and who’s master only time will tell
for now let the Magician tend to Fool, who so recklessly fell
and broke his arm, but more his drive to succeed,
now if he can get out of bed, that is miracle indeed
Each morning the pain of not getting up charged
drys up his resolve- leaves him parched.

If the Fool has called it quits, the Magician is resolved
he wants to heal the fool, make him anew in his mould
make him strong to last the path, that is bound to be rough
make him tall and majestic, and like the Magician tough.
If deception is what makes you win, so be it
if trickery does the trick, lets use it!
Lets trick the Fool - he’s still strong and intact.
Lets trick the Magician - he’s doing some act
that is noble and redeeming, that can overcome his sins-
by fooling the duo, we, the people, wins.
and let the Magician trick the Fool, as to his capabilities and charm
as long as everything moves the quest, theres no harm
before the fool can be deceived as to the Magician’s craft
the Magician needs to be comfortable with his art!

For only by deceiving oneself, can one hope to convince
and make the Fool ready for quest, no qualms, without wince
the Magician needs to create, a story about his self worth
that being a magician and healing- is by itself worth
healing the people who are broken from the ordinariness of life
and broken from the extraordinary stressors, the traumas, the strife
for everyone, the Magician, has something in his magic box,
delighting everyone with their favourites- oh the cunning fox
he knows what smells you like, what perfumes you spray,
he can make you believe as if he is the hopeful ray
who can see through your facades and still not use it against you
but entertain and heal, and create a fantasy world new
where you forget your pain, for a moment or two
and get drawn in his world, like a glue.

The Watchful Night

It has come to an end - the day, not your quest!
You buckle up your resolve, you simply can't rest.
The stakes are too high- its either now or never!
The hunt is so near - and now's no time to waver.

You are ready to lie low- in the dark night of the soul
Only to pounce and grab it, the moment it shines again-your goal!
Good things come to those who wait, Slow trees bear the best fruits,
You can plan and scheme and prepare some more - to tackle the problem at its roots.

When the night was dark and the vision obscured, all you could discern was a lemon or two,
Making a lemonade drink, you consoled yourself,  don't worry- this shall'th pass too!
You stretch and arc to take your aim, now that the dawn is near,
It's a matter of time, before it's light again, and the target is crystal clear.

As the silent night comes to an end, you think you have finally discovered your voice
Only to lose it in the hustle and bustle, as the day matures and the moment flies.