He was My Guy

He's the kinda guy you write poetry about.

He's the kinda guy you vowed never to fall for, but unbeknownst to you, you're already smitten the first time he smiles;

He's the kinda guy you spend an entire night talking about your teenage times.

 

He's the kinda guy you who fits in all your #relatable and #goals posts;

He's the kinda guy you dance with in the morning in your PJ's, while making toast. 

He's the kinda guy whose chasmic eyes make you wonder about every cosmic secret they might hold;

He's the kinda guy who flirts with you every chance he gets, but  after a long night, also leaves you with a chaste kiss at your apartment door.

He's the kinda guy whose bed hair makes your heart skip a beat, no matter how many times you’ve seen it;

He's the kinda guy who knows who your favourite member in a boyband is. 

He's the kinda guy whose hoodies you steal to feel his presence around you for forever and a day;

He's the kinda guy with whom you snuggle in a blanket while stargazing and giggling over his silly tales.

 

He's the kinda guy who skips a football game and holds you close after you've had a bad work day;

He's the kinda guy who cuddles you every time you have an anxiety pain. 

He's the kinda guy whose hand you wanna hold while strolling barefoot along a beach;

He's the kinda guy in whose eyes you see your fate and doom gleam.

 

He's the kinda guy your parents warned you about, but you still end up falling for his charms and villains;

He's the kinda guy who you know will shatter your heart, but you still love him as he's your hell and the heavens. 

He's the kinda guy with whom you see red while fighting;

He's the kinda guy who’s the reason you're crying and clutching your heart at midnight.

 

He's the kinda guy who crushes your entire cosmos the moment he slams that kitchen door;

He's the kinda guy whose voice you seek in a tranquil library and a deafening abode.

He's the kinda guy whose months of memories you’re enamoured with after hearing a single word;

He's the kinda guy whose favourite dessert you recall when you're on a date with another soul.

 

He's the kinda guy you tell your daughter stories about because even if your universe once crumbled to an abyss, he was still the best thing that ever happened to you;

He's the kinda guy you fall in love with, to never truly get over and quell as your muse.

He's the kinda guy whose secrets you hold in the attic of your heart forever, because he's the kinda guy you write poetry about.

Under The Starry Sky

Under the starry sky I lay,

   Wondering about the passing hazy days,

   Thoughts juggling scads of unfamiliar ways,

   The fire in my heart, ablaze.

 

Under the starry sky I lay,

   Wondering about the babe’s cry,

   Mother trying to soothe his distressing high,

   Father trying to bag the night’s supply.

 

Under the starry sky I lay,

   Wondering about the Red Cap’s march,

   The rise of liberty, the fall of monarch,

   What was the belief that resulted in this morn’s anarch?

 

Under the starry sky I lay,

   Wondering the gloom my heart feels,

   Blurred echoes of conflicts, that my mind conceals,

   Yet there is a glimmer of promise to ease my grieve.

 

Myriads of lies, oceans of words,

   Silent prayers, clamorous rows,

   Legions of mortals, eternal cosmos,

   I wonder if the starry sky has some room for another secret to hold.

The Wild Cat Woes

The first ray of light hits the bars;
   His thoughts erupt out, but are crestfallen and dark.
The uproarious, stone-blind nighttime finally desists in a gleam;
   Conscious that there's a flimsy day ahead full of crashed dreams.
In his heart prevails a sky full of stars;
   The awakening, illumination of hope when he used to walk on his path.
The cherished, enchanting echoes of the forest spellbind him;
   Each enclosed, innocent, desperate face, of his lovely life, remind him.
He is enigmatic about why food is not satisfactory and water not sweet;
   Why, these new beings, seem so heartless and days full of grieves.
Are the pro-fusing, thriving fields sickened of him?
   Or is it a joke that will end in bliss?
He drowns into a pool of memories of his good old days;
   When joy seemed real and enthusiasm was in vibrant ablaze.
Yes, he was optimistic that his cheerful heydays would again, his life, en-light;
   But now this wild cat had another uproarious, stone-blind night.

A Journey To Remember

Disheartened and dis-consolation feelings had taken over my physique;

   Pessimism was slowly and stealthily ceasing over me.

At the end of the tunnel, I could see a bright beam of light;

   Maybe it delineated that there is happiness after the sorrowful times.

When the tunnel ended, a beautiful view of the city came before us;

   Tall and short buildings, all built on Mother Earth's crust.

I think it was trying to portray that there are many hurdles in our life;

   We should assimilate to take them in our stride as they might help us at the next arise.

After a few moments, we saw a lovely wonder of nature;

   Dunderberg Mountains along with which flowed, the Hudson River.

I watched this serene scene which gave me a lot of peace;

   Did it whisper that being calm and pure is the only way to the highest peak?

As we went on, along came the mighty and grassy woods;

   Some were still a sapling, while some a century old by their looks.

I heard them talk about the hearts of the human crowd;

   Strong and bent oaks survived, while the frail coniferous were blemished by the wood-cutters moving about. 

We got nearer to our point of disembarkation with every second that we moved;

   I was thinking deep, sinking into a pensive mood.

My spirits rose and told me that nature has all the answers that we'll ever require on our life's path;

   The strength and relish that it bestows on us, will also long last.

As we alighted, tears of content rolled down my cheeks;

   My heart was euphoric and will never forget these marvels of nature which it had seen.

My Musings

As I muse over my life now,

   I can perceive things in a better way;

   Some days seem to be optimal while others not so gay;

   Rushing along my corporeal path, I somewhere mislaid my hopeful ray.

 

As I muse over my life now,

   I can perceive through all the facades and the pretense;

   All the people who blarneyed me for their own convenience;

   Yet some tarried behind to help me with my grievance.

 

As I muse over my life now,

   I can perceive my deeds well, with sagacity and meaning;

   All my wounds and abrasions have now started healing;

   The contusions inflicted upon me are now, with buoyancy, teeming.

 

As I muse over my life now, 

   I see how far my heart has come;

   It's been played, stabbed, cheated, burned and broken, but still remembers to love;

   It has taught me to shed tears for others and not deplore over something's that's done.

 

As I muse over my life now,

   I see how stupendously I have grown;

   Leaving behind my inane innocence, umpteen times I've been torn;

   But always picked those pieces up because life is not for the ones who mourn.

 

For these musings are nothing more than my heart sobbing and wailing for the world to fathom it outside;

   Although regrets I have none, life would've been better with some tranquil time;

   Looking back has made me realize how each moment has been so amazing and divine;

   Yet I still struggle to find my long-lost hopeful light.

I Yearn For That Place

I yearn to go to a place where the rainbow glistens after a somber rain;

   Where the beauty of each sunset never wanes;

   Where the nature's pulchritude is always in full ablaze.

 

I yearn to go to a place where in-veracity and deception do not prevail;

   Where malicious scoundrels and rogues curtail;

   Where only the pure at heart devour a life of solace.

 

I yearn to go to a place where our thirst for blood terminates forever;

   Where universal harmony is the intent of each nation's endeavors;

   Where every sparrow's counted and benevolence is every person's demeanor.

 

I yearn to go to a place where you follow your heart at all times;

   Where your dreams and aspirations come true, as for them you strive;

   Like a candle, others' paths you en-light.

 

I yearn to go to a place where our hearts are not broken but are brimming with love;

   Where people realize that things once effectuated cannot be undone;

   Where a rainy grave day carries a hope of a better season, which is jocund.

 

In that place, people live a satiety life with no haste;

   There's charm and ardor all around but no menace;

   Fantasy, benignity and exultation never abates;

   I yearn for that place, I yearn for that place.