I slept half part of the day. Then I woke up hungry to eat an Elephant
in full. But settled with lamb steak. I don’t know who but I see a
dream where two eyes that looks like stars guiding me out of dark right
before I wake up. I mentioned this yesterday. It is a girls eyes. Well
I don’t feel afraid when I wake up. I feel good hehehe. That reflected
well in me when I was trying to finish this poem. I am back
writing ‘Tess Of The D’Urbervilles’. I feel terrible leaving it aside
but I’ve had no choice with deadlines and me and my company getting
conned and of course my loser talks.
Here is the latest loser talk: Love gave everyone a flower
bouquet. What love gave me was a trashcan. So my penname may change
from LonelyPoet to “Trashcan”.
Enjoy the poem.
A Free Man.
A day I will never forget is a day,
I have no memory about,
The day I was born.
Even before mind kept tabs about,
Faces seen, smiles given, cries,
Innocence built deep inside,
Like the sprout of flowers in spring, sprouting.
A golden thread from the flower petals woven,
Bound heart year after year, season after season,
One by one the bounds increased.
Innocence grew to passions, passion to love of youth,
Driven by power of eagerness and lust,
Many forgotten smiles and faces,
Tearful eyes and nightmarish nights,
The bounds kept on growing,
As life fallen and through the never ending tunnels moved,
Where ever lasting silence and darkness makes love,
Where every hope, wish, dream failed,
And in failure again and again swam,
Loveless, passionless and delusional.
Senses have become parasites feeding,
On the delusional subconscious leaving,
Hopeless images in mind imprinted.
Still threads of love, passion, obsession, pain,
Hunger and lust bound heart tight.
The light of love I searched was seen,
But like mirages on a dry cold desert faded,
Eyes that promised everything,
Ears that heard nothing,
Lips that bore the poison of lust,
From the tunnel they all went away,
After the last bit of pleasure bound tight,
To a heart bound tight and squeezed.
There was calm, there was that little wind,
With every hope, eyes and mind opened,
Every bit of hard luck and pain wiped away,
As far away two bright little stars seen,
Guiding through darkness into a new born day,
But the bounds on my heart dried squeezing,
Every essence out of soul to survive,
I can no longer see those stars in the bright new day,
The fear of darkness, pain and failure again grabbed,
As I screamed aloud
“I am not going into that path again,
With a heart rotting in the bounds,
Of love grown out of innocence,
Passion, obsession and lust immorally conceived”.
The spirit of an aging man never dies,
The threads one by one I unbound,
Those threads bound hard tight,
By my own miserable mourning,
Every vain in the body started to feel,
The heat of an exploding star,
Blood like the lava from the depths of a volcano boiled,
But every bit I unbound free I became,
From a material life into spiritual realities,
Where there are no obligations,
No more passions as heart in freedom danced,
But before the last bounds of thread undone,
I looked up towards those little stars,
Though brightness around blinded me,
I still thanked those darling lucky stars,
May be it is to ever lasting loneliness,
May be it is to another cycle of billions of variables,
That makes up the phenomenon called future,
But in peace I walked away, as a freeman.
That is very good.
Lips that bore the poison of lust,
How many men and women have fallen victim to this?
If you don’t mind tell me when you are ready to start selling your books I’ll be one of the first to order it. (thats only if you sign it of course 😉 Peace, as always good poem.
-Pilgrim of Truth
Wow, that was an very good poem.
Noah
Wow, that was an very good poem.
Noah
thankx for the comment, i don’t get much encouragement… so it was really nice of you.
Peace and love.
though i don’t really fancy epic poems, that one was interesting. Somehow i like “The spirit of an aging man never dies” the most.
omfg!! yuo are too good at this!!
OH my gosh. thank you for leaving me that comment. How sweet. You have so many friends out there in Xanga world…..I didn’t think you would remember much of me.
I love reading your stuff. You are always so interesting. Really….you are. Let’s make sure we keep in touch..ok?!!!
Hi there. This one is very beautiful! “Bound heart year after year, season after season,
One by one the bounds increased.” and then the ending… “But in peace I walked away, as a freeman”. This is amazing. Thanks so much for sharing your poetry here.
Oh that thing you said about your new pen name may be “Trashcan” made me laugh. There was this crazy scit on MAD tv a while back where they were doing a parody of singers… They had Whitney Houston strutting around with her finger up the air and yelling “Diva! I’m the diva!” or something like that and picking fights with Courtney Love and calling her “Trashcan” She’d say “come on Trashcan… bring it on Trashcan” or something like that. Well, anyway, it just made me laugh. 🙂 Please don’t call yourself Trashcan. I wan’t that for my pen name. Ha! 🙂
I’m wishing you a great day… follow those stars 🙂
hi there.. i found you through another poet’s site… and your comment on his about how you choose only a handful of poets on Xanga intrigued me to come read your words. and i leave quite amazed.
just wanted to leave you that. it is always a pleasure to read good poetry.
~peace&love~
Hehe wellll I was at a concert for a band that some of my friends are in and a huuuge mosh pit started, so of course I had to join in ;). I ended up getting kicked really hard in the shin, and we thought I might have fractured it. Luckily though, it’s not fractured, just bruised.
not to mention it was swollen so badly that it looked as though I had a second knee
no i didnt sing it,well when no one is there. its by greenday.i love that band. MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS!
love the rich imagery. this poem is well-crafted
oh hey thats cool! its the first time i’ve been in bangalore – i was born in kerala too, spent a few years in delhi and then lived all over the east coast of the us. most recently virginia, where i went to high school.
anyway, where in bangalore were you?
I have a metaphysical survey (it’s actually only 3 questions, one of which you can skip) of an EARTH-SHAKING matter of great importance for you to answer. Please come and reply in fanciful detail to the allocated and education questions, thanking you in advance, Michael.
I hope you don’t have to leave America. Isn’t there anything you can do to make sure you stay here? Peace.
-Pilgrim of Truth
Dang, that sucks. I will definately keep you in my prayers. If you have to go back to India will you still be able to stay on Xanga?
Just as a tip, there are a lot of women in prison looking for husbands. You might want to check it out 😉
-Pilgrim of Truth
great poem… i don’t usually read the longer ones but it seemed worth reading.
right now i’m living in BSK, kind of far from the center of the city…which is sad, but hey.
my dad’s family is from alwaye and part of my mom’s from trivandrum, i’m defnitely a pure keralite. no one ever believes me when they see me though…”what, you don’t look malayali!” =) my dad’s family is muslim, so maybe that explains it a little
i moved to the US when i was five and i’d always visit my mother’s famliy in delhi since that was where she grew up. i’ve lived in philly, boston, and va as we moved around for various reasons
what was/is the object of your travels?