Monthly Archives: January 2014

Madness

Am I mad to imagine

That one day

Peace will fall?

 

Am I mad to wish

That one day

Contentment will reign?

 

Am I mad to hope

That one day

The mind won’t fret?

 

Am I mad to dream

That one day

Fears shall fly?

 

Am I mad to laugh

At the weirdness

Of it all?

 

Am I mad to love

With tireless

Desire?

 

Am I mad?

Alive I am.

 

 

 

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A Flaneur’s Manifesto

Just walking, with no definite plan

free and easy on the pulsing streets,

not hurrying or burdened by feats;

Drinking deep and absorbing the sights

that peal from old buildings and new heights;

Suddenly the world is tinged with rhyme

as if undressed for the first time.

 

Just walking, with no definite plan

flowing current you can channel;

Letting the feet think, wonders travel

from toe to toe, nerve to nerve, cell to cell,

therapy that soothes with a kindly spell

of marvels, life and great vitality,

wind in the bones and the feeling to be.

 

Just walking with no definite plan

is a kind of magic that grows and grows

if we live long – to walk is to know,

in tune with the world’s songs, open gate

gleaning impressions while we create;

Flaneur, walker, dreamer, dancer, lover –

wayfaring is the way to uncover.

 

 

 

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Sails

Out of life’s thickened woe
You spring with quickening delight
Into my world,
Where I had been shedding
Tears of splintered dreams.

What these eyes have seen,
One can surmise.
The bruises they carry
Scarify the soul,
Sails stay unfurled.

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Insomnia

Tossing and turning

on life’s fragile raft,

dreams careen

into smithereens,

sucked dry

by the wind’s rage.

And I cry

lamenting

old scenes

washed in

time’s

relentless

tide.

Seeking the light,

consoling fingers

cradling warmth,

I shudder

in the

rumpled bed.

A new world

beckons.

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Again

I wrote you

a poem once

veined with desire.

I told you

about wonder

lit by the sun.

I touched you

with hands

soft as your skin.

I loved you

with glances

washed by the rain.

I left you

some whispers

melted in love.

I send you

some words again

kissed by the wind.

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The Way

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Walking is the way

to shape and create

who we are,

where we are going;

sharpened by miles,

a boon to cherish.

Walking is the way

to dissolve fears,

strengthening

the mind,

cleansing channels,

a gift to savour.

Walking is the way

day and night,

renewing

jaded spirits,

forging fresh

impressions.

Walking is the way

to gather ourselves,

where metaphors

sparkle,

in which the soul

may sway.

Walking is the way

wherein beauty

may burn.

Memories return;

walking is the way

for now and always.

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