Thoughts

Lovely

Poem
Fly my lovely!
[Image by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pixabay]

*

Paper like fresh

Paper like crumpled

Paper like white

Paper like light

Isn’t it lovely to match,

To catch,

Freedom and its rhythm?

*

Paper like clouds

Paper like crumpled

Paper like white

Paper like light

Isn’t it lovely to breathe,

To read,

Freedom and its rhythm?

*

Paper like thoughts

Paper like crumpled

Paper like white

Paper like light

Isn’t it lovely to know,

To follow,

Freedom and its rhythm?

*

Paper like paths

Paper like crumpled

Paper like white

Paper like light

Isn’t it lovely to walk,

Towards

Freedom and its rhythm?

*

Paper like you, me

Paper like crumpled

Paper like white

Paper like light

Isn’t it lovely to live,

Immersed in

Freedom and its rhythm?

Isn’t it lovely…?


Listen to Billie Eilish’s Lovely that inspired me to write this poem –


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Lissome Dream

Short Poem
The gentle, lissome dream.
Image by Dimitri Houtteman from Pixabay.

*

Beyond bountiful thoughts of today,

Tomorrow and yesterday,

Lies the gentle, lissome dream…

Bright and blissful that scene,

Distant, imaginary if not seen.

*

Take two drops, without fail, of zeal,

And Sunshine, keep turning the wheel,

Playing the circus game, yet untamed,

To become the dream you dreamed.

*


Why should you keep your Dream Light on forever? Click here to find out.


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What To Do?

Literary Nonsense

The Busy Life (1953) by Jean Dubuffet
[Source – tate.org.uk]

*

The train of thought never stops, does it?

Standing on a vague platform, everything except me undergoes a peculiar kind of metamorphosis now and then. Bewildered, I stand in utter confusion, with a dazed expression and remain amusingly voiceless.

Waving madly for the train to halt or at least lazy down a bit, I am increasingly getting ascertained about the fact that either I am powerless or I am being considered as a crazy cheerleader.

Often, no, more than often, I have successfully boarded the train.

What happens then – settled quietly near the window, with a half-read great novel that I have tried to finish since one year, five months and two weeks, looking old and rich in my hands, I get lost in the dream world looking through the barred window; settled quietly near the window, with a notebook in front and a pen in my hand, I write down miraculous lines, tying down the strength to move the humanity and a saleable story together, staying humble myself throughout the reverie; settled quietly near the window, but loathing everyone around me and worshiping softly to reach my destination soon…

“My destination…” I say and I am kicked out of the train, back on that floating platform which dances every second on some idiotic tune and disturbs my balance.

I fall down, cry, raise questions, get answers, plan things and proudly compliment myself, with a touch of modesty of course.

And then what do I do? I go off to sleep. How much can the mind take? “So long, my friend”, says my mind and dozes off. Shut down! Power off!

Click!

Switch on and I am back on that platform. Trains have started passing me. I yawn, a full day of travelling to a gazillion places ahead.

Busy life, what to do?

*


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A Lot of Keys in the World

Short Commentary
“I have the grand key, yay, hmm, now I just need to collect the other 99.”
[Source – Pixabay]

There is a key ring because there is a key, there is a key because there is a cupboard, there is a cupboard because I have things to keep, and I have things to keep because I think I need them…I think I need them because I think so…I have a mountain of material things just because of the way I think.

I keep adding my possessions to this mountain, mostly trying to show off its grandeur, forgetting that I am the one who is carrying it.

These possessions are shiny and majestic in a strange way, but every time I try to talk to them, they just stare at me ambiguously, neither do they move nor do they accept that they are dead…my not-so-dead possessions don’t talk to me.

Am I complaining? I thought I’ll take umbrage at the point that my possessions are not enough and stop. I took a step further and bought another cupboard and worshiped the zillion gods online; it took days multiplied by nights subtracted by three quality thoughts and finally, I got success…a new key ring, for my new cupboard’s new key…all the shiny things beaming shamelessly at me.

Gradually, the three quality thoughts multiplied and I started feeling the weight of the mountain.

The quality thoughts then converged and I was left with only myself; it was calm and quiet then. I felt light just like a feather and I was happy. I woke up and faced the reality.

I don’t have the keys to most of my cupboards, I lost them, dropped them…it would be nice to think that I did that intentionally.


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