The Ghosts of The Mountains

 Of all the mountains that I imagined

with higher pine trees

green farms everywhere,

Apples that are far away from the seas,

and sun that hides behind

Like a fairy tale,

a kids drawing that has come alive

Of all the mountains that I imagined 

the ones I see are the ghosts of the greenery

Dead in a Symphony

A rhythm that stays one-of-a-kind 

A sky that is clear 

for the moon and the sun to stare.

Of all the mountains that I imagined

the ones beneath the clouds 

and the ones that peak high above them

of the ones that blanket snow

and shower black ice

The ones I see are the ghosts of sand

rocks and mud 

but the colour so grand

Alive in the light

and dead when it succumbs.

while the dark sky lights up 

with million a stars watching over them 

Of all the mountains that I imagined 

that Gods bestowed upon 

Monks that walked over 

through valleys that are never seen

The ones I see are the ghosts of the high towers

kings, I never witnessed

leopards in white 

and the world inside. 

HOME

 The heart of a child has no qualms over life it sees

you dream to grow up and become a fairy of the  neverland

to be a superhero painted in vibrant colours.

your home is your playground

it lies within your camaraderie, and differs in all colours

your home was laying on your father's lap

and in between your mother's arms

 

Smothered in sweet words

A caressing hand that flows through your hair

blissful sleep that brings you

to the lands of horses galloping in sunset meadows

Amidst mountains filled with sunflowers and its shadows

your home is beneath all that you know

one day you wake up to grow more

you will be bathed in a colour that will turn into ashes

the hands distance themselves from the touch you crave

but there will be others that will pry for more than what is allowed

 

your home will turn non-existent

and you will start losing your sense of belonging

you realize there is no home anymore.

PRODUCT OF REVOLT

 The minute you grow more

To n unknown eye, every struggle is known

Our battles set us free of our boundaries

numerous fights and rebellions of trepidation

Against the hands that put a pause on us.

loud cackles that discern

For every lie, they have told

A summoning of an unnatural beast

Within a roar that trampled on, lo and behold.

A custodial curse that travels beneath the skin

You hear comments that say "you? What could you do?

you are just a girl!"

you fight for the way  you walk 

and the way you talk 

"No" is a word you cannot say, it's a sin.

long nights , longer wars

"You will never be enough" cuts lifelong scars

You fall into despair

of the perfection, you cannot attain.

Your trustee playmates you cannot trust anymore

Sccrets sound like gossip and gossips are lore

Your achievements are painful discussions

Among eyes that are sore.

you fail within those eyes

your trust cracks

and you are cursed for seven more years.

"Are you ready to face it?"

Now! Now! now! you would rather crack your bones.

you read stories that are your escapes

To a world of heroes 

Strong women with Ebony hair,

Fiery demeanor and people call it her flair

You admire her, admonish her

She is your perfection but in the end, you have to wake up.

To the biggest struggle of losing you.

PATTY HEARST

 This feeling you feel

of losing self and that there is no way to heal.

it's a price you pay

for every time you give up on hearsay.

Your school mates form cliques and you stay off.

your brothers will have conversations you would rather not be a part of

"Does it make any sense? Any of this nonsense?"

you will give up, before you cut off

Your parents are world's away

their bodies beside you but you are led astray.

And yet you learn to love the feel you have for it

as you have no solution or courage to fight for it.

You have one best friend you can confide in 

but you fear your loneliness will taint her

So you just dwell, bathe the darkness through your skin

Alone, caved, and scarred but it is all you.

And that it the way you want to stay you,

that is how you fall in love 

yet you don't fight for you,

The darkness that abuses you

is the emptiness of home you seek for

it's a Patty Hearst, you know it,

And yet you love it.

FINAL HOME

 Time turns to a darker side

you go to college

it's a roof that swallows

and rekindles the fire burning ashes of distraught.

You are a fool to think someone's love will save you,

You become a rebel again  but it will fail you 

you will fall into a deeper despair

and lose the roof you are caught in.

For the time being you are free as a dandelion

you spread yourself as far as your eyes reach

this will be your home

within nature and beyond people's preach.

You start to find yourself, yet you lose yourself

Your one last home, it's a smoke-filled barrel,

you grow more and you reach a new destination

There are red strings attached to you 

and a faint heart that stopped beating too

there is no "you" anymore

"who are you?"   you keep questioning.

You like to succumb to people around

You stop feeling emotions for they shouldn't be shown.

You stop speaking for you shouldn't be heard

the barrel you called home, to a million pieces it is blown.

Your body, your last home doesn't belong to you.

The emptiness you so much loved

Will start to suffocate you

You have no other way but to fight.

This is the last struggle to let yourself live

the final home is you and you alone,

A LEGACY LEFT BEHIND

 

This world built of many walls

connecting borders of every nation

walls of brick and stone,

walls of cement and sand alike.

Walls of religion, saying your belief is what you are indebted to

walls of race, saying your colour lets me judge you,

walls of class, saying your wealth will make me respect you

walls of gender, saying you are not as much of a man

walls of roles, saying you are stereotyped into you who you are not

walls of boundaries, countries defining us and saying we are separated.

walls of differences, saying some can be seen and some cannot

walls cast shadows that create upheaval and inequality for eons long.

A legacy left by fathers and their fathers and fore fathers at hold

A prism that disperses colours but never makes it one

A history to behold while many truths unfold.

LONE WOLVES

                                                      

The future locks up the legacy

and fights for privacy

for sustainence, for a bubble to be stuck within,

Bearing the burnt skin of our history every hour

Harbouring a burden of being the runt of the litter

Tryin to put out the fire

A rage that engulfs and leaves us all in tethers.

A society of snowflakes, we are told.

ot being understood is the new normal

our wishes of change to the dense crowd they are being sold.

Any solace people get is to stay to self.

It's primal ordinance

A way to sustain it's impudence 

As time closes in

The smaller the places we live in get.

The closer we get to attaining ourselves as individuals.

As profound as the preaching of self-improvement we see

The lonelier we get and alone is the only answer we feel.

The search for self, necessity to understand others

and the fight to stay strong for all

A greater sense of togetherness is born out of this loneliness

A fight every young soul is fighting

to make history that was once but out in the bay.

and these snowflakes will be a hailstorm one day,

To uproot the stigma stuck behnd our backs hanging.

Lone wolves on the run

come together as one

A nomadic second nature 

to accept the reality is the new future, 

TOGETHER

              In dreams, every other night I see walls crumbling down

              some are burnt to ashes  and others were knocked down

              some were vanishing, staying out of purpose

              while others were dragged to hell in a circus.

               People walked to new destinations

               they walked to new people, yet none was a stranger

               Hearts of solstice, and the power that is a harbinger

               thoughts of boundary-less nations

               A testimonial to their willfulness

              to accept the harder truths and come to justice.

             A prayer of a world together as one

             beyond the desires lay a heart so done 

             A fire that is consumed in its precipice

            and that blows out fumes of conflict and fits.

           A conflict when crossed comes understanding and pardon

          A war, when ended, comes suffering of a nation

         A fight when comes victory of the one

         A future when it's bleak comes the wisdom of a son.

          

   To every man to their own

A reckoning of reality,

Where art is not a mere escape shown

Where dreams are to be said aloud

In hopes of making a future never outgrown.

intertwining hands of  every nature and skin colour,

Of every class and order

"Together" is a slogan of their universe

"Love" is an end of every curse

Corrupt minds of concurrence 

Are the ones to be left behind

A curse to minds that cannot struggle within the conscience

This belief of the human mind is the future of a kind.

The future may seem so uncertain

While togetherness is a question

And a passage to unity

The unity that lasts for eternity.

This passage is to be held onto

while we are to be a wreak

and for us to fall into 

It's a curse we break

And a destiny that awaits its awakening.

Alone and together we will unite the world

Create a picture that sings a symphony

A note that strikes in a melody

united we are in a harmony.

        

                                       

ForEver

If you were to be mine

chase away your lies

for I will try and try

till I wish my heart was dead.

My name will be yours

even after I die

and I will be the warmth

till this winter and the ones that will come pass by.

Forever will be our pride

the only label that we will be known for.

If you were to be mine 

so will I be yours.

What LOVE feels Like

 

Love feels like 

an iceberg sinking in the water 

hay of grass lying around on a riverbank

a piece of paper beneath a mountain of books.

Love feels like 

you are drowning 

dreaming of impossibilities 

but also looking at a blank space ahead.

Love feels like 

you are trapped in a stampede

picking fruits on a desert land

and studying a sea of silent eyes.

Love feels like 

it is violent in its kindness

chaos in its peace

and burnt ashes while it is still alive.

Love feels like 

it is not what it is supposed to be 

a code that  cannot be deciphered

Yet we still hang into it. 

Villain from the Masses

 I never liked heroes 

especially the ones with capes

They might be able to fly

look good in a suit and tie 

push themselves over a mountain so high

paint a picture of the future so bright.

I never liked heroes 

that put themselves at the last

their families a sacrifice 

and their children with expectations at a price

I never liked heroes 

because they choose to fight 

when there is nothing left

and their homes keep changing

within a world that is bereft

I never liked heroes 

because they are crusaders of good 

but only when bad is so bad 

that their good shines its own light

I never liked heroes 

because they fixed bigger wrongs 

while the smaller ones

have no right left in them 

I never liked heroes 

nor the villains 

for I was the middle ground 

the runt of the litter 

The one legion none of them care for 

I am the one alive 

injust for the greater good

but on the verge 

of ending in the greater dark

a Villain from the masses.

HASHISH

I breathe the air 

an involuntary affair

in goes jeopardy

a will that suffocates me

12 stations of the moon 

and 12 stations of the sun

you hear me suffer

in 12 versions of the hell

The smoke I walk into 

cascades down a memory lane 

I presume your faces 

guilt that turns into pain

I didn't realize the need I have for you

my mobile phone is a placebo 

that I devour with no inhibitions

taking in all the love it can give.

These 7 oceans 

7 circles of hell 

I cross through every day

Yet I cannot bridge this gap 

that is between home and me

Curse of the consciousness

 Conscience is a plethora of images

constant parallels of universe 

the quarrel of culture and inhibitive instinct for instance 

But there are more and many more stages

the birth of the phantom dragon is a consequesce 

of the blood and thirst of a mother dragon

Mother bathed in conscience all along

a culture that couldn't disperse or reverse

time couldn't change and she hung on and on and on

The culture was a defiant trait

and the phantom in me never stood a chance

against its bait.

Secure, insecure, scared or to be scared,

confident or to be ashamed

never were the consequences straight.

The only solution was a mask that shows a lie.

Many more masks have been built along.

I and my dragon were never once seen among.

Conscience was all we could rely on.

and when midnight struck we crumbled upon

Let ourselves out and the next day we carried on. 

"Architects of dreams"

What we are grilled into as a child is what we have developed as our conscience

Our parents, culture, society, peers, and education plays a definitive role in the development of our conscience.

But with such many characteristics being developed within and some traits seeping into our subconscious behavioral characteristics, we seem to forget how complex conscience is. 

There are daydreams, mental images of desires and things we look upon and will for.

All the form the unconscious images and together with the complexities of our consciousness for the dreams.

These articulate our behavior patterns and inturn our stimuli or responses to situations.

This is when we learn to control our expressions, our responses .

With culture playing a major role in it we learn to hide our true selves.

Thus building masks as we go on.

Building a persona that is to be deemed acceptable by people around. 

and you succumb to these people around, 

___________________________________________

Tales from Noera. 

.

Phantom Dragon

 

"Just as our free will clashes with necessity in the outside world, So it also finds its limits outside 
the field of consciousness in the subjective inner world where it comes into conflict with facts of the self"
                                                                        -Carl Jung

                                             

                                                     To a child reality is what we see

                                                     To a child the 'I'is an object

                                                        an entity within a group,  

                                              a mask of pride reveling in the prospect.

                            little do we realize the shadows barred by mystique and conscience.

                                         shadows that surround the dragon sealing it within

                                                               clearly out of view

                                       images of a childhood unknown that hounded 

                                           let everything die down behind the mask

                                       Marred by the resilience of elders that care too much.

                                                             Sealed,

                                                             Scathed,

                                                             Suffered, 

                                                        and simply agitated.

                                      One shadow at a time turned into memories of past

                                the dragon's view flourished and the child within grew among many fates.

                                    Memories that turned embers to flames and flames to the fire 

                                   transformed shadows of the dragon into the phantom of free will.

                                        And as these flames blew so did the child grow

                                       

                                                The 'I' was not an object anymore 

                                                The 'I' knew more to not belong to what has been foretold

                                                The 'I' grew out of the mask it adorned.

                                        The reality of freedom was not just a  concept no more

                                            It resonates, personifies, and dissipates  itself 

                                                  to the equilibrium of ego found.

                    

                                                         A statutory war within,

                                                  one to be as an enigma within the crowd,

                                          and to break the mask, only crown that makes it proud.

                                          

                                                   Revealing the phantom dragon 

                                                     A force of nature if you will 

                                               Out of the clutches of the fate presumed.

                                          Letting the fire engulf self and stage art that befits 

                                                  

    

"Once the ego has achieved sufficient autonomy and a measure of control of consciousness, the feeling of personal freedom becomes a strong feature of subjective reality. throughout childhood and adolescence, the range of personal freedom is tested, challenged, and expanded. 
Typically a young person lives with an illusion of much greater self-control and free will than is psychologically true. All limitations on freedom seem to be imposed from the outside, from society and external regulations and there is little awareness of How ego is just as much controlled from within. Closer reflection reveals that one is as enslaved to one's own character structure and inner demons as to the external authority. Often this is not realized until the second half of life when there is typically a dawning awareness that one is one's own worst enemy, Harshestcritic and severest taskmaster. Fate is spun from within as well as dictated from without" 
                                           - From "Map of the soul: Persona" by Murray Stein.  

___________________________________________________________

Tales from Noera

                         

LOVE like RED

 

 

A little more,

A little more is what I have seek for

little more of your fragrance engulfing me

making my senses go haywire.

little more of the sight of your radiant skin,

glowing like million suns blinding me,

blinding me in adoration for you.

 

Little more of those blue eyes

stoning me, leaving me breathless.

little more of those  flecks shining bright

bright like the north star in the night sky.

little more of those luscious lips on my skin

leaving marks of love, marks of love like red.

 

This wait for the feel of your skin against my fingers,

to see the blush against your cheeks,

making your eyes crinkle and your lips twitch,

tucking out those locks of hair,

freeing them from the carelessly unkempt bun.

 

You are exquisite, a delicacy luring me out of my bounds

the sense that my tongue has been scorching itself to taste

your enticing lips coaxing me to bite them

to make you feel the longing I have for them.

 

Like the smile I have when I think about you

the smile I have now playing on my lips

while I think of you,

trembling hands that have been resting on your hip.

tracing on the statuesque curve,

bringing my fingers along the waist out front.

All I feel is" I want more", to sense more of that skin

 

I have no words for the sensations your body makes me feel,

I have no senses when I look into those magnificent eyes.

calming, but taking me high above the clouds.

I have no  thoughts but to feel your heart against mine

I have no fears but to hold your hands and intertwine

pleasing but pulling me  deep inwards.

 

It is wrong, my inner self keeps shouting,

 banging on my door to let herself take me out.

but my hand's rebel to the idea of leaving the bliss

the art that your body is, the sheer magnificence in your creation.

and how my hands feel the need to worship it

to touch every inch of that radiant skin,

to see your body shiver in anticipation and excitement.

to make your lips tremble when you feel my breath against yours

 

Time has been taunting me, running slow and away from me

while I make my way to you, he just misleads me to him again

I take longer strides

not able to keep me away from you anymore.

my feet faltering and slipping on the wet floor

walls supporting me to stand still and walkthrough

 

long breaths!

long breaths, I tell myself as I close my eyes

 picturing your fingers walking through

through and through my  back, leaving feather-light touches

pleasing my mind aesthetically, bewitching me to stay.

stay still in your bounds, to keep my arms around you enclosed.

 

Opening my eyes I sense time coming to distract me again.

I pull away, park my senseless body on the busy streets of lust

Looking around for my soul, to feel its arms securing me

I cower away, ricochet my mind away from you

reminding myself about the evil that has taken me

that has been puppeteering my thoughts.

 

I see how your bedlight has still been on

my thoughts run back to you again, untamed

making it difficult to stand on my feet,

elated, driven on by the hopes of hearing your voice

i walk further,  deeper into the abyss

till I reach your door.

 

hot fiery rage takes over me when I hear you

when I sense you moaning in pleasure.

That should have been me

me who wraps my arms around yourself

feeling your soft molds touching mine

hearing your heartbeat rise when I breathe against your neck

while I run my hands along the curve of your back

pulsing sweet pleasurable shivers in your spine

 

I punch the wall spraining my wrist

pain sears through my whole arm

I push it against the cold wall, turn and twist

intensify the suffering

 

tears spiral down the cheeks

I have no shame, no pity on myself

I feel the beating of my heart no more

because now I know

now I realize its been you

now I know to tell myself that time has not been misleading

now I realize that time has only been telling me

pushing me to learn my love for you

 

to learn the way why I yearn for you

it has not been for the touch, but recognition

it has not been for the kiss, but the blink of an eye

it has not been for the heaven you put me in

but for the hell you made me come through.

 

I laugh at myself,

laugh at me when I hear you say HIS name

when I know his lips have been playing yours

when I hear your back against the wall

when I envision his hands tenderly touching your neck

invading your heart and soul.

 

that has been my end

an escape for the inner devil to play me again

to lead me far away from the embrace of love

lust filled eyes stare at me again,

now I have no reason to lay

no compulsion to stray behind

I just can walk ahead, knowing you are protected

you are loved, knowing you are in safe heaven

 

but to me, you will always be my untold story, unexpressed love

LOVE LIKE RED

 

 

An Ocean that stayed still

The boat I am in has two rows
the people I am with lay idle
sweating through their brows
tired of rowing in directions only to cradle

I see a clear blue sky
graces its touch on the green ocean we pry
there are algae, there are corals,
there's floating flowers and fishtails

People who row left
Make me stand and look ahead
People who row right
Are willing to push me into the night

As stagnant as my resources seem
It's not a course I think I would redeem
A poignant wave crashes through
Its whisper calling me to who?

Again my boat is headed nowhere
Rowing in either direction
Ocean as still as you hear
Your heart trembled in fear

A ROCK ON ITS OWN

Stingy eyes and tears that overflow
heart pounds on a beat so low
As mindwanders so does the world
Sharp threar that ruins my honesty
and a place there is none to hide my modesty

I can whisper sweet nothings to myself
but will argue it's an unprecedented theft
"let these whispers turn to breeze
and this breeze float in a gust of wind
A new home may stifle in its path"
its a hope that sways
and uncertainly that stays

A warning came sevn years ago
anxiety kickedin four years ago
Hope slithered wo years ago
and flew away the very next day
it hurt, it still hurts, can't hold it in
it slices through and stays in
There is no other way but to bleed
and my heart wants to bleed
it begs to bleed
screams that can't be heard
and sorrow that seemed like just another's

I keep telling there is nothing to confess
but only afraid there is too much of a mess
 There is a mask I revel in
and the world hasn't taught me will
should I stay in
or do I pay in another sin
People ask me "how are you?"
And my conscience struggles to breathe
Uncomfortable in its death bed
Thoughts incomplete and scattered
Emotions that have no face
How am I? I wonder
My whole existence should have been a question
how am I even existing?
Like an ant that lost its direction, sense  and a home
food to live by
No meaning to survive

I keep asking do I qualify?
To a life that would satisfy
I keep doubting or do I simplify
Just to be stable as there is nothing to signify
Only guilt comes along time.

WHISPERER

When I was a child a gust of wind seemed like a storm, 

I would gaze at the dark sky with memories horrendous floating around.

I would pick up the sword and fight- not my enemies,

but my shadow that wouldn't lay dead.

She travelled in the darkest places, 

she jumped, she cried, she suffered and she died

then a light came around with eyes like mist

a greyhound behind that dragged soul-less faces.

A fate that surrounded me for longest time

it whispered my name 

I knew I was next,

I swayed between the truth and reality.

my universe got smaller,

every day got harder

and as moments passed by 

I knew I  couldn't escape what was in store

how could that be the end

It was my whisperers choice 

Run, is that all I can do?

the light never showed up

but left behind my whisperer 

with numerous faces hanging around 

nameless, desireless.

there was no fate nor destiny.

I knew my shadow would hide

the truth, she knew

but reality broke its reason

she is running too 

is there a way we would meet 

running on the same road 

is there a way we stay together 

betray fate and make destiny ours

DARKEST HOUR

On the darkest day, there came a word
for us to stay and hold a sword
there were bullets firing
and there were soldiers falling
but on that day there came a word.

For the hot sun blazed
and winter wind blew in the air
there were men who were dazed
and women with flames of flying hair.

There came a word for me to stay still
and there was no way I could change that will
there came a word for me to make no change
no haste, no vengeance, no blood and no rage.

And here I am, still as a rock
no men around nor sheep to flock
there came a word and I stood by it
there came a word that I couldn't unfold
that I couldn't show to the realms around me.

credits to the inspiree- David Baldacci- 'Zero Day'

IN FLAMES

And when the heavy words blow
your tears come and go as a flow
If your heart is burning out
may be my flame is the one lighting it on fire

Once I keep coming into your dreams and about
I sense your flames flying up higher and higher

I won't say that you hurt me
cuz where were we all along
there was a little but too much
but there was never an 'us' as such

I can't make love look so easy
all I can do is throw flames
light you and me and us
you can't make me love you
cuz I can't say I feel so good
even if it comes over and over and over again
there will be nothing left but pain

Bottles and sheets
phrases and fleets
there is a problem with the one that cast away
and the other that couldn't sway
in the end there is always flames
that burn you and me and us