Are the ghosts trying to make me speak?
Whatever they want to hear
the words do not get shaped anymore, into the suave sentences;
they just tumble out
in a chaotic bundle of despair.
The effects are swept
under the carpet.
Do you hear them?
Category: Poetry
Scars
The intellect becomes burdensome
and seeks a logical construct
to validate the emotions
borne off some long lost hurt
then the brazen takes over
creates the havoc
that leaves the indelible scars
on the wounded collective psyche.
Paranoia
The paranoia that you spewed
through the words that distorted
the expression;
sparked the dark anger
in the placid moment of acceptance of the craziness as mundane, dotted on the sheer sea of existence.
Misplaced happiness
Crazily when you chase it
it gets scared and hides
in the unseen nooks and crevices
of your ignorant brain
Let it follow you
through that smile on the face
of your mother who is getting older everyday
or through the hot meal on the table
which is no less a miracle of sorts
or through the shelter that your home
affords to you
or when the love of your life
gives you a hug
in the middle of the night
or when a drop of sweat
adorns your forehead
after a day of hard work
or when a sole flower blooms
out of nothingness
on your way to work…
After misplacing happiness
You have been looking at
all the wrong places.
Hiatus
It has been a while,
a little escape
a little break!
Life dropped unexpectedly
into the lap of demands
by the unknown dark forces
circling like vultures
ready to pounce
on that one piece of peace.
Deepsh27 