Poems For Swipe Pages
1) Letters I Will Never Post
When i get lost like a rudderless ship,
aimless, drowning, shrieking loudest;
foreseeing my death near,
in the bluish abode of ocean,
as if i’m all alone in an enormous marine world;
I feel numbness breaking my ribs hard
laughing at my helplessness.
I watch my skin turning blue & pale like a corpse,
& atlast sublime myself with the reverence of my tears.
I try to pick up the pieces of my heart
& stitch again to never lose its binding,
& out of trepidations, i try to spill out
the gorges of my feelings through my words;
I try to overwrite those words
feeling that the essence is somehow missed,
& i scratch out or peel off the piece of my diary,
In the outburst of my anger.
I surmise myself a failed poet
when expressions seem tinier than
the trash of my head that slowly rot.
I leave no efforts undone in stretching myself more,
I see riots everywhere, out of a brawl of religion,
or a hot misunderstanding brewed from
sipping a cup of hot tea.
I judge myself as a failed poet
when i don’t find peace in my pieces
as they convey the canvas of a enraged society,
or, like a unbloomed flame waiting for a matchstick.
How can i resurrect my peace back?
How can i overlook the problems around me
slowly eating to my core?
How to be a blind poet limiting myself
into the safe “Lakshman Rekha” of happy scribblings?
How to be a “Victorious Poet” finishing
myself in some 4 liners leaving
a vast white spaces on my diary?
I try to search for my answers restlessly
Sleeping silently at night , twisting & tossing my body
in both sides repeatedly & shuffle in utter confusion.
My attentions jump over to the faded ceiling
Of the corner most wall,
i feel as if it’s crying for long in the yearning
of a peaceful death but shelping
the agony of being a havoc burden.
I wish i could be a wall to heal it by stamping my words.
Abysmal feelings choke my throat again,
bullying me for i never posted any of my letter.
I feel ashamed, embarrassed & scornful
against each of their allegations
make me a worthless struggling mediocre.
My dwarf talents crumple my pages where
I wrote the glooms of an unloved child,
to the predictions of awkward suicide,
falling down from a 33 storey apartment;
I wrote the headless revert back of my screams,
to the gormless rejection of peculiar proposal
from the most peculiar girl,
only knew to love without any pledge or condition;
I wrote from the pain of a hindu boy weaved a dream
bit by bit of witnessing mecca
& prohibited by the barricades of religion
to the muslim girl never uttered her endless love
for a hindu classmate ,but made his favourite dessert
everyday to earn praise of her cooking.
Yes,i never given recognition to these letters ,
probably never gonna post some day in near future.
I know my social handles are still starving
for them, for their phenomenal peace & persona.
Yes, i’ve never given respect to these letters
as i knew i am under the surveillance
of social cctv circuit, made of some ill-minded creatures.
I can be distorted in no time by the chops of
hate comment trails & i never posted them.
Yes, i will never post a letter including such,
or, never can be a ‘Satisfied Poet’ with my tiny pieces.
I never posted any of my soul-talks where
actual serene resides out of any fear.
Let some unrevealed beauties live out of our reach,
Let some unparalleled thoughts stay blindfolded,
Let some extravagant love bubble the air of peace
& let some lean minds never read the letters unposted.