Posted by on July 3, 2007

You close your eyes to a brand new morning,
For there is nothing new this one will bring,
In solitary confinement, receiving the wages of sin,
A constant buzzing in your ears is the only din.

Back against a wall, you know there is nothing called hope,
For, waking unto and sleeping into reality, is how you cope,
Suddenly, like a stray deer, out from the wilderness,
A ray of light, wanders, into the years of your darkness.

Far from its cousins, it bounced around and rebounded,
And before the crevice was forever sealed, alas, it had faded,
That light would never return, but you never did mind,
You were too engrossed in what it had left behind.

Close your eyes, and you were blinded by it,
Open your eyes, and you were surrounded by it,
You walked on light, walked into light,
There wasn’t another moment that you knew night.

It wasn’t just blinding, it was spellbinding,
Of those still innocent days, constantly reminding,
When they came to take you away, to a future more bright,
There were no more walls, no more roof, only light.

Funny, the things it had done to you,
Just a ray of light, one gone astray,
Cutting through rock, it had reached your soul,
It rebuilt your life, and made it belatedly whole.

They took away your body, no longer able to torment,
But didn’t notice, the light, still in your eyes,
You had already lived, a hundred lives in that moment,
And could live that one moment, for a hundred more lives.

My hundredth poem to be posted on this blog, and also the first one on my new domain.

This one is dedicated to Ryan Bliss and his wonderful art, one of which had the title of this poem, must say it was a really magnificent one, with the sunlight filtering across and down through the mighty oaks. Now that the celebrations and dedications are over, down to business. Prepare for a long ramble.

Everybody in life has those few desires that they are unable to fulfill because of the fear of a society that they feel clamps down on such issues. They harbour these desires unless the desires can no longer wait and set sail for more receptive shores. That is the last these people see of not only the desire, but also of the hope that usually accompanies that desire. Then one fine day, what IF they suddenly get a chance to indulge in their wildest, ones that have long set sail?

Exactly what happened to me. Once I GREW up I could no longer frolic around in my favourite elemental force ‘RAIN’, without risking an admonishment from someone or the other. Then one fine day, after 8 years, I got a chance. It was raining cats and dogs on a day when there was no one at home but me. I simply walked out, rather walked into the rain. And to this day I carry the memory and joy of that moment that I no longer will ever feel the need for rain. Every time I think of it, it simply rains on my mind, drenching my very soul, and every single pore, without anybody even noticing.

This poem was an attempt to present that situation about a person on ‘death row’, who is in a cell and hasn’t seen LIGHT for decades. The only thing he yearns for is to see just one ray of light, just have one look at the sun. The yearning soon turns to an unfulfilled dream, until a day when out of sheer luck one single ray manages to sneak into his cell. That one single ray so intoxicates him, that it becomes his very breath, his very life. He no longer lives, he has already become one with that light, all that remains is a body that awaits its redemption.

My most haunting one from among all my poems, it took me 4 days to just work up the courage to write this one, because the concept was so close to my heart, that everytime I tried to put my pen to write, it sent a shiver down my back. Somehow found the strength to finish it and get it done with, was more like exorcising some hidden ghost, because it is one of the handful of poems out of the 100 here, that are autobiographical.

Since this seems to have got me into a brooding mood, for the next 2 or 3 poems I will be delving into very dark(are they really dark?, won’t debate on that with myself) areas of love and life after DEATH, if there ever is one for the two.

Whew! One of the longest commentaries that I happened to write in many years. And in so many ways it still seems so highly insufficient, my mind is dictating, but fingers just refuse to go on anymore, this was supposed to be a blog for my poems, and this one commentary looks bigger than three of them combined, so that’s it for now(unless I hear from SOMEONE of course).

Posted in: General, Poems, Spiritual, Verses


  1. Citric Acid
    July 4, 2007

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    They took away your body, no longer able to torment,
    But didn’t notice, the light, still in your eyes,
    You had already lived, a hundred lives in that moment,
    And could live that one moment, for a hundred more lives

    Very beautiful.. The entire poem is brilliant. This heightens it further.
    Unfulfilled desires have a way of wrenching the heart out whenever you think of the beauty that could have been. Dreams that never saw the light of the day live on as dreams and haunt during the wee hours of the morning reminding you of what you’ve lost. But the hope and beauty that it brought, at the moment it brought, surpass and take you through the mundane existence; the pain of not being fulfilled sometimes gets masked by the beauty of the fond memories that line the lips into a soft smile, the eyes close as you relive it in your mind’s eye. And that moment of reliving removes all the pain that you bear..and all that you ever have to bear.

  2. licencetorhyme
    July 4, 2007

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    Yes. Thank You. Frankly it was the root idea for the rest of the lines. I was just sitting back and reminiscing a few days back, when I remembered that incident, and those last two lines were the things that struck immediately. The funny thing being, that at the same instant about 4 or 5 concepts(many of them again form my life) struck me as potential candidates fro a series on these 2 lines. This one just happened to have the most piety among them all, so I chose it.

    Besides, the story of a prisoner, is just a superficial covering for the actual message I wanted to convey. We are all prisoners of our deepest, darkest secrets, our deepest and darkest desires and fantasies. They cannot be set free because that would mean humiliation and risk of social exclusion. Yet every single moment they are eating away at our core, decaying our spirit with every passing moment and feeding upon it to get even more stronger.

    At such a juncture, what if we were to find someone, one who wouldn’t judge those desires because of what others thought of them, one who wouldn’t banish those fantasies because they seemed repellent to the very basic tenets of humanity. If we did happen to meet this somebody, one who would choose to understand us rather than judge us, and not attempt to influence us to change of conform, and let us be who we truly wanted to be, and at the same time supporting us through the ordeal we face as the rest of the world condemns us.

    What would we do, would be choose to open our hearts to that person, or would we still choose to remain silent. And if we did speak, would it change our lives forever, as a beautiful phrase from RDB goes, “and nothing would ever be the same again”.

    The light was simply a metaphor because it signified one such person, one who would shine on everyone, and everything it comes across, irrespective of the darkness in their hearts.

    k. nough rambling about nothing spectacular. Guess can’t stop writing once I begin, that’s the reason I stuck to poems and kept away from prose, because this way, I can find a reason to stop, since nobody would want to read a poem as thick as a Harry Potter book(which is as thick as it would get if I kept writing, though I must say I am the most laziest one at that).

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