Beauty (in the odd)-

Beauty (in the odd)-

 

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There’s beauty in odd numbers,
And the things that don’t conform;
The sun on a winter December,
And rain when autumn draws.

There’s beauty in resilience,
Falling nine times, rising ten;
Standing strong when all around us,
Are breaking down in pairs.

There’s beauty in acceptance,
Of the flaws that make us whole;
For the only way to right things,
Is to acknowledge first- the wrong.

There’s beauty in forgiveness,
Letting things roll off our backs;
Shunning off small talks and gossips,
For our sanity, not theirs.

There’s beauty all around us,
And within our ourselves- unique,
Different sizes, shape and colour,
Each beautiful in its own being.

Facebook page: words of a random, let’s connect! 

The boy by the sea-

The boy by the sea-

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His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying;
He’d mastered the art of,
Concealing his downfalls;
When the moon graced
The sky,
You’d find him,
Under the starlight.

His smile was as bright as,
The darkness he kept hidden;
And no one would reach out,
None knew he needed healing;
When the sky turned a shade,
He could live without concealment,
You’d find him by the bank,
Alone with his reflection.

When you sight him,
By the sea,
In reply to, “how you’re feeling”.
He’d smile,
Praise his lord and add,
“I cannot count my blessings”.

In spite of the darkness,
In spite of his heart bleeding,
It could have been worse,
Is the mantra he keeps repeating.
His talk was as loud as,
His silence while crying,
His strength is reflected,
In his hope to keep on living.


P.S what had happened was, my days got mixed up yesterday. I thought it was Wednesday already when it was actually Tuesday (yes, I am that eager for the weekend to come) and hence, I accidentally posted the writers poem Wednesday, yesterday instead of today.

Safe haven-

Safe haven-

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If you are a lover of rainbows,
A dreamer when the sun is about,
A reader whilst the crowd is gathering,
For worldly pleasures and fun.

A foodie when your mind is spinning,
A sleeper whilst the shadow is around,
A prayer unknots from your tongue on,
the days when the hours seem long.

If you know you are normal,
But have been called weird,
If you are a dreamer,
But have been named belle,
If you are religious,
But have been called prude,
If you love the written,
But have been called nerd.

Welcome to my world,
Of papers and words,
A safe haven for dreamers,
With no need to conform.

What love is-

What love is-

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They say,
This- is what love is,
But you wouldn’t know now,
Would you?… referring to me,
A rendition, much like,
The sensational rhymes
Of a love poem,
Pours out of them.

I listen,
I have to-
An emotion which seems to be
An equivalent, to the way
I gaze at a cup of
Steaming black coffee,
Enchanted by the
Swirls of its steam;
Anticipation,
of that first sip.

An emotion which almost,
Feels like the yearning
With which I wrap myself
Around my one gifted duvet,
A visit,
Whose end I dread.

An emotion akin to
The warmth which embraces me
Each moment I happen,
Upon the words of my lord.
Pleasant to the ears,
Soothing to the soul.

An emotion which almost,
Almost feels like the cause,
Of my heart to bit a little faster,
At the sight of my study table;
Always another book to read.
How I hate them.
Oh, how I love them.

But they say-
I do not know what love is.
Maybe, I don’t.

The beautiful picture above Is courtesy of Pinterest.

O- October lessons

O- October lessons

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Don’t take my silence,
As my innocence,
Or the naivety of a girl.
For the girl in me,
Had died long before,
Your ring ever touched my hand.

Don’t take my silence,
As a proof you’ve won,
For your barks more than your bite;
And I’ve fought more battles,
Than you’ll ever see,
And emerged each time a victor.

Don’t take my silence,
as anything but,
A remembrance of mama’s word,
One October morning,
bless her soul, she said-
never stoop down to a fool’s worth.

the above image is courtesy of Beautiful petals.com

C- Colour me earth

C- Colour me earth

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You-
With the red hair and
Pale skin,
Eyes reflecting the cerulean
Sea;
You-
With the brown hue,
And hornets of untangleable
Four C,
Eyes- the colour of the bees’
Produce.

Yes, you-
With darkest of skin,
And you-
With the lightest of hair,
Do not,
let the world convince you,

That you’re-
less genetically blessed.

For blue- is the earth,
And green is the earth,
And black and brown,
Are from the earth;
And all of it-
We know is blessed.
By the one, in whose hands
My soul lies.

Today’s poem Is inspired by a Post I read by Nayana Nair. This is a scheduled post, I’m sorry I won’t be able to reply your comments, I’m currently on a travel. Take care, and happy reading. 

Rejection-

Rejection-

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He told you, that verses were old school,
All the modern poets dwelt in lines;
So you bundled up all of your pages,
Dumping them in the dark of your house;
Only one- two lines just, he requested,
No one’s got time to go through a page,
And the heart that you poured into writing,
Crashed to nothing, within a sec.

You tried, didn’t you, to conform,
But the words wouldn’t make sense in two;
After efforts and hours and struggling,
You decided it wasn’t for you;
So you bundled up, all that you’d written,
Modern poetry was not worth the pain;
With his words echoing in the background,
You set fire and watched through the flames.

Who’s to say that you can’t be a poet,
Just because you refuse to conform,
To a particular style of writing,
While beauty resides in every form.
Seasons fade from autumn to winter,
But the truth of the fact still remains,
Some would prefer the winter in autumn,
Some would choose the other way;
Write two lines if you wish or long pages,
Write because- you have something to say.

Her Evolution-

Her Evolution-

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I wasn’t always like this you know, she remarked softly, as if speaking to No one in particular.
I used to be fun, at least that’s what I’ve been told. I used to have friends, I even used to make jokes, laughable ones too.

It was great to be the joker and the life of the crowd and I reckon, I enjoyed the attraction and the favours it brought along. But eventually, I began to wonder if there was more to life than “that kind” of fun …

I wondered if I could be more. I wanted to be more.
More than just another pretty face, another name who gets passed around by with a laugh, another came and gone, another soul in a world filled with a billion of us. I wanted to be More…

It began with writing down all the things I thought I could do, the person I thought I could be, and- I never dropped the pen afterwards.

They say I have changed and I have lost who I used to be.
But in fact, I have evolved, I have found who I am supposed to be.

The successful ones-

The successful ones-

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Would I- be amongst those,
Whose fingers would speak,
Of the goodness erupting,
From their finger tips;

On the day when the mountains,
All become flattened,
When man stands- sole,
And account for his deed.

Would I- be amongst, the few
Chosen ones, whose faces
Aglow, from the
Worship of their Lord.

At the first string of light,
They defeat the alarm,
And the grounds would bear witness,
They glorified their Lord.

Would I be amongst those,
The shaded ones,
Who bore with fortitude,
The trials of this world.

For indeed, on that day,
They’re the successful ones.
Those who walked the earth as strangers,
Knowing IT, they will become.