Season Four : Factual

Around April 2018.

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Factual

The sky is awfully blue --
I could've known
There's something wrong with you.
Not a cloud in sight.
I just might
Never come back home.
When they pictured hell,
They imagined
How we slowly fell;
But in tales of heaven,
Then what even
Did they mean?

Nature, nature, lovely creature,
Fell beasts in your arms;
Careful, careful, you're too beautiful --
All the world is yours!
I would say a million prayers
To your selfish god,
Fly away into the sun
If the wings were yours.
So show me the right of way
You alone can see;
Light up the red carpet
Of your festivity;
Layer up all your dreams
Then slow reveal, striptease.
You alone can smell
Your lonely, lonely sea.
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Season Three : Annual

Croak.

Written ~March 2018

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Annual

I shooed and screamed at clouds; I hoped
They were not here to stay --
I took great pain to make it rain
When they'd gone away.

But my earth, it scorched and burned,
The dust engulfed it all;
Sandstorms swept up all around me,
Making me feel small.

And when the scornful cloud returned, oh
How it loved to gloat.
The conquered dust became a bog,
With wretched me afloat.
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Season Two : Gradual

The second poem in that series from last year. This one was written around Sept-Oct 2017.

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Gradual

The day my body wastes away
And no one speaks for me,
Tell them of the good old days
And the good you saw in me.

Tell them of the soul untouched
That sold itself to pain;
Tell them of the wretched dance
In stinging seaside rain;

Tell them of the hungry tales
By naked fireside told;
And, bit by bit, the smokescreen built
You and me to hold.

Before they cut me open,
Immortal hope to serve,
Take a while from jewelled life
And futures you deserve

To tell them all our secrets --
Each one but how you knew
That as Lucifer loves a sin
So did I love you.
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Season One : Vertical

This is the series I wrote over the past year that I debated whether or not to post. I have finally decided to put it out there -- despite this not being my better work, I have tried my hand at a new type of content and would like to receive feedback.

This particular poem was written around March-April 2017.

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Vertical

The door was open through the night,
I slept on a side of the bed;
Yet he did not think to rest
Beside my sleepy head.

In the deepest slumber, I
Spread out a waiting arm;
But, all night, I did not feel
His breathing, soft and warm.

My throat was sore, my eyes were red
From battles yet to fight.
Salvation slept but floors below
Through my darkest night.

Losing myself like I'm wont,
I could have used a hug
But he was happy with his book
And magic coffee mug.

He asked if I would be upset
If he went out with friends!
He does not know I miss him more
When the party ends.
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Kanyakumari Revisited

While I muster the courage to post that series from the past year, here is a standalone(?) poem of the usual odd-semester-at-CMI kind.

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Transience 

Etch the ballpoint memory
Of a distant past that isn't me
Alongside the ramblings of
Another maddened poet.
The reptiles on the wall
Moult when curtains fall;
"Seasons will repeat", wisely,
Simplicity still wrote.

My pen is like a broken wing --

So heavy in pain, I cannot sing!
The open sky will draw your stories,
Eight of them in all;
The creatures on the edifice
Die when kingdoms fall.

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