Words are all I have

A hundred unwritten poems in the heart
A hundred incomplete ones that will never see the light of the day
Some that came alive
A few that made it big
A few that destroyed what was
Words are all you sometimes have
Good, bad or ugly

Lovely Poem by Roosevelt

It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly;
who errs and comes short again and again;
who knows great enthusiasms,
the great devotions;
who spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly
so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
                                 ---Theodore Roosevelt

Gotta go for it

When life gets one brooding a bit.....

One mustn't WAIT for the spark to hit.

One, first of all, ought not to sit......

But go around and check if the area is lit.

Tap into some random source of wit....

And whip up some long-lasting grit.

Hoist oneself atop the pit.....

And gather a good motivation kit.

Because one, ultimately, gotta go for it.

How to make a mess of your life

Three simple and easy steps to make a total mess of all things 

Repeat every day to stay in the cage of misery and clip your wings 

One:

Find two things to complain and rant about

Sometimes you could murmur, sometimes you could shout 

Two:

Find two topics and appropriate people to fight or argue with

Don't pause to think if you are pursuing the truth or chasing a myth

Three:

Find some faults in people or situations around you 

Elaborate and examine till the concerned blokes turn blue 

Tip:

Take as many of these aspects from the past as possible 

As the past guarantees you things that are no longer changeable 

Mother....

A child that has arrived,
Is one that has derived

the beverage of life from its mother's bosom
the warmth of affection from its mother's kisses
the courage of connection from its mother's umbilical cord
the gift of the gab from its mother's murmurings
the luxury of lazing around from its mother's lap

the depth of sensitivity from its mother's gaze 
the courtesy to contribute from its mother's hands
the confidence of doing right from its mother's advice
the bliss of being right from its mother's trust

Mother; the mother of all sources
Mother; the origin of positive forces

Social Media

Disclaimer: Please ask your mobile service provider to activate your sense of humor before reading further.

Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, including you, except Yours Truly is merely and purely coincidental.

Selfies, sunsets, babies and cats

Some bouquets and a few brickbats

Like, comment or lazily lurk

Fool around, think a bit or just burp

Boast a bit or somewhat less or a lot

Declare whether life is cool or hot 

Birthdays, weddings, parties and all

Trips to everywhere, now on the wall

What was for lunch and what for dinner

Who is the saint and who the sinner

Sports, movies, politics and religion

What to embrace and what to shun

Obsess about an idea or a cause   

And garner some passing applause

Share nonsensical poetry 

Indulge in honest or random flattery 

Talk about this; talk about that

Go around in circles; say Howzzat 

Wonder what the heck is happening

And quit the whole damn thing 

Is your sense of humor intact? *Peace*

Please continue what you were doing.

Peace

Some thoughts take off elegantly and enthusiastically into the bright and blue sky and your spirit soars along, with a song on its lips.

Some thoughts, meanwhile, speedily slide down into a dark and endless abyss and drag your spirit down even as it resists and trips.

To silently watch both with stoic equanimity and see that they both are equally unreal is what works, as 'spirituality' often quips. 

Bird Murmurations

Perhaps the mother of all magical moments in nature 

The murmuration of birds mixed with lilting music

The magnificence of watching the winged creatures in rapture 

Merging and leaving in what seems like a divine trick   

The mesmerizing patterns that they draw in the sky

Makes one desire to belong to the unrehearsed dance 

As millions of birds prove they were born to fly 

Maybe man can some day learn to orchestrate so, once he comes out of the trance

http://youtu.be/ndcBuuGB7gQ

Restlessness

The spirit that often wants to break free

Amidst its ignorance of what will be

The determination to find the energy to soar 

The desire to breakthrough the silence and roar

Almost the entire world yet to explore

Piled up and untouched ideas galore 

Even as one sees the intense human spirit flow and grow

The heart of every cell wishes for peace to lend its glow

Compassion

Gut-wrenching noise of the goat from across the street. 
It is hard to bear the sound of his agonizing bleat. 

He somehow knows what is in store but probably hopes for a miracle. 
What he does not know is half the world has to cry for the other half to cackle. 

Note: This post is not intended to offend or hurt anyone. It is only the expression of a personal feeling and can be applied in multiple situations.

Miracles

A tree; A bare tree.

No green leaves,

No gentle breeze.

No shade to rest,

No cozy nest.

A tree nevertheless.

No special crown,

Branches gone.

No flowers or fruits, 

But glad for the roots. 

A tree nevertheless.

Trunk under water,

Got nothing to alter. 

Half wet, half dry,

Somewhat bold, somewhat shy.

A tree nevertheless.

Faith deep in the bark, 

Embracing the dark.

Silent and stoic,

Still a seed of frolic.

A tree nevertheless.

A bird in sight,

A bird with wings!

A bird that sings!

The Sun is blazing away,

Miracles are on their way!

Voices

It's always a cacophony of voices
The voice looking for someone to blame
The voice lurking around for fame

The voice that loses the heart of the problem
The voice that focuses only on 'they' and 'them'
The voice that is obsessed with the cause
The voice that screams without a pause

The voice that brims with sympathy and sorrow 
The voice that is not itself but borrowed
The voice that calls for instant action
The voice that craves for a permanent solution

The voice that forgets the flaws of the soul within
The voice that just wants revenge for sin
The voice that is suppressed and silent
The voice that reacts to the herd and is compelled to vent

The voice that, despite the despair, wants to dominate
The voice that, meanwhile, meekly subscribes to fate
The voice that knows no reality
The voice that is recorded for posterity 

It's always a cacophony of voices
(Why not?) After all, it's a world full of choices

The Dance of Life

Note: Made some updates - added a few more lines (5th Oct)

With due apologies to the Bard of Avon, all the world is a stage and we are all dancers on it. We can't help but dance in order to balance the paradoxes, see two sides of the same coin, experience moderation rather than extremes, manage perceptions and so much more. (Each of the following pairs of words could be seen as paradoxes, perceptions, extremes or two sides of the same coin!) 

The dance of the unique and the un-understood,

The dance of victory and vulnerability.

The dance of bliss and bewilderment,

The dance of humor and hope.

The dance of spontaneity and strategy,
The dance of seriousness and silliness.

The dance of silence and sharing,

The dance of solitude and society.

The dance of dignity and determination,

The dance of dearness and distance.

The dance of freedom and familiarity,

The dance of forgiveness and the future.

The dance of the constant and change,

The dance of the creative and the crazy,

The dance of the cool and the casual,

The dance of confidence and confusion

The dance of insight and indulgence,

The dance of inertia and inspiration.

The dance of risk and routine,

The dance of rejuvenation and resurrection.

The dance of the mundane and the miraculous, 

The dance of the mighty and the minuscule. 

The dance of the past and the present,

The dance of peace and perseverance.

The dance of the given and greed,

The dance of growth and governance. 

He stood up on one leg and reached for the crutch,

It was a poor substitute, but something he would, nevertheless, clutch. 

His dance would look awkward all right,

But his very attempts would make life less of a plight.

Fluttering Within

Fluttering Within

Act 1: Square one

Unknown purpose, a random & empty life, uncertainty was the king

The bird knew not what the next day would bring

Nothing unique or special to hum, tweet or sing

Nothing to hang on to and yet happy not to cling

Stuck in a bare cage, she almost had no idea she had wings 

Act 2: Change of scene

Wonderful dreams of many soothing colours

Soft and fluffy clouds that beckoned the bird to rest 

Rows and rows of bright and happy flowers

Everything seemed to be safe and right in its nest 

The bird had been finally let out of her dreaded cage

She flew with her wings stretched in freedom and joy

Only to suddenly find herself being chased back in a rage

Destiny had worn a deceptive mask and dropped it as if only a toy   

There came a sudden storm that swept everything away 

And left nothing but destruction, dust and dirt for miles 

The clouds had turned dark and night had replaced day

The sky had lost its splendid colours and twinkling smiles  

Act 3: Back to Square one

The bird crawled back into the cage in sheer disbelief

The dream had been so cruelly tempting and painfully brief 

It was all short-lived, the so-called freedom and relief

It would forever be a confusing memory tinged with grief

But the bird shook herself yet again, mustered strength and turned a new leaf 

Google Images.

The Bird Shall Fly Again

Croak....croak....croak.....R.O.A.R

Time for some inspiration

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

When the road you‘re trudging seems all uphill,

When the funds are low and the debts are high,

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,

When care is pressing you down a bit— 

Rest if you must, but don‘t you quit.

Life is odd with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,

And many a person turns about

When they might have won had they stuck it out.

Don ‘t give up though the pace seems slow— 

You may succeed with another blow.

Often the struggler has given up

When he might have captured the victor's cup;

And he learned too late when the night came down,

How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out—

So stick to the fight when you‘re hardest hit,— 

It's when things seem worst that you mustn‘t quit.


Note: Source: Internet. No idea who wrote this poem.

Courage

From Google Images...

She runs towards the place where the light streams from,
She hopes it will get brighter with every step forward.
Meanwhile the clock ticks with its usual freedom,
But its rhythm is not musical only to the poor coward.

It will be pitch dark before it is bright again,
Even if she moves ahead in the same direction.
Come night or day, she has to be sane,
For courage and dignity lie in the journey's completion. 

Our long vacation in the Troposphere: A perspective

Our long vacation in the Troposphere: A perspective


To be one with nature, to be friends with a four-legged creature, to read the best of literature, 


To connect with The Creative Power, to seek wisdom and humor, 


To tune into the divinity of music, to do that which makes us feel good and tick. 

The Poem of the Phoenix

There are two ways to look at poetry. There are two ways to look at life. It must be a lie because the 'poet' *makes* it rhyme. It can't be anything but the truth because the rhyme somehow falls in place.


****************************

Life is at the peak of confusion
Not when 'up' is followed by a 'down'
But when it blows both hot and cold
When one feels weak as well as bold


When nectar and poison are one
When soft and rough spoil the fun
When the child is both patted and hit
When the lamp is blown out immediately after being lit


When one reaches the mountain peak
And yet there are no traces of what one seeks
When the fire of life is doused out of sight
Just as it begins to burn bright


The words to repeat as always 
are Trust in God and hope of a divine blaze
The picture of a rising phoenix 
Shows silent strength and wipes off the jinx 

The 'Real' Success

The man is a success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; 

who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of children; 

who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; 

who leaves the world better than he found it, 

whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; 

who never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; 

who looked for the best in others and gave the best he had.

- Robert Louis Stevenson

The T.R.E.E

Source: Google Images

The tree was one of its kind, big and sturdy
Its lovely branches & leaves made it shady
It was fully equipped to protect the needy
For its warmth, all the birds were greedy

On the tree, the squirrels wanted to play
The saints wanted to meditate and pray
Travelers wanted to rest on the way
Children wanted to be make merry all day

The tree had plenty of space to spare
It had the best of breezes to share
It had all the strength to dare
It had fruits sweet and rare
It could almost give a mother's care

The birds begged for a nest
The squirrels squealed with interest
While people were desperate to rest
The children's expressions said it the best

The tree, unfortunately, turned a deaf ear
And wasted itself without a tear
None of these, it thought, were dear
It understood only the rules of distrust and fear
Its purpose, sadly, was not clear