#ramblings

306 posts
  • thebhavnasaxena 3w

    Doorstep

    I run to you over and over again,
    Crashing on the doorstep of your
    Love, like a forlorn sea gushing in
    Waves over the sands of paradise,
    Only to withdraw at the slightest brush.

    Resent me not, for you know not,
    I was born with both a great desire
    For and a great fear of this elusive
    Bliss, this exquisite torture that they
    Call love; I am torn, between desire
    Brushing its warm fingers across my
    Lips and fear running its cold fingers
    Down my spine, I am lost, between
    My heart that yearns for just one
    Taste of love and my mind that
    Spins chains for me from the debris
    Of hearts broken all around me.

    As I stand here, on the doorstep of
    Your love, this moment frozen between
    Us, I am half hope, half agony, I wish,
    I could stretch it to infinity, to let
    My gaze drink up the curve of your
    Smile, memorize the way the galaxies
    In your eyes swirl to beckon me, I long
    To press my hands to the soft walls of your
    Heart, but I dare not, so when you see
    Me turn away again, let my tears fall
    At the doorstep of your love, but
    Touch me not, beloved, lest I come undone.
    ©thebhavnasaxena

  • veesthoughts 14w

    You have stayed this long
    You made it all the way here
    So keep staying
    Keep staying

  • thethought_fox 25w

    Comfort is a fluid that shifts and moves. The slow rise and fall of a baby's chest, as it sleeps, lost in another world! Comfort is the soft purr of a cat basking in the sun, content and at peace. The saree draped around you, the clothe that you slip into. Ask pessimists, they will tell you the comfort of teetering on the brink of hope, one foot dangling from the cliff! They attest, there is comfort even in tragedy! It is the lyric that catches your soul, the song that plays on. The sand between your toes, the showers that drench you, the colour in your cheeks, the universe in your eyes, a clump of wildflowers. It nestles between the pages, in the lull of thoughts and peers from the memories bygone.
    ©Sanjana Varma

  • thethought_fox 25w

    Happiness

    Into a bowl, let's mix and mash. A dollop of colours, a dash of smile, a drizzle of love and a can of health, to last a while. Stir it with the spoon of life, sample the seconds and garnish with t(h)yme. A little reminder, the recipe for happiness is already with you!
    ©Sanjana Varma

  • yellowpink 26w

    Think of me

    Do u think of me every day?
    Do u pray for me as you pray for your needs?
    Do you even want me to be in your future?
    Do you even wish the best for me?
    Are you ever happy each time I win at something?
    Do you ever look proud whenever I come back with an award?
    Are you working towards supporting me in every way you can?
    Or you are just a parasite looking for a host to feed on.

  • anonymousquill 28w

    Firefly

    The firefly in the jar beside my bed
    Is but a dream of your smile
    To warm myself tonight;
    An afterglow of things left unsaid.

    A spectacle to behold
    Of freeform flow;
    Tell me how you like them,
    The songs we sang of old.

    I do not seek in my solilouqy
    To be too deep,
    And sink beneath melancholy;
    The despair of antiquity.

    The firefly beside my bed
    Flutters and hums;
    Its light turned low.
    Our silent songs must already be dead.

    ©anonymousquill

  • totempole 31w

    I'm Not Afraid Of Love

    I am only afraid of the consequences of Love,
    I am not afraid of love,
    But the falling apart which starts the antonyms of love,
    I am not afraid of love,
    But the sweat, toil and blood, shed for love,
    I am not afraid of love resulting precipitation,
    But the lifelong effort to sustain such results to its fruition,

    Looking around,
    At folks surround,
    Makes one wonder
    What is love?
    Further ponder,
    If but toil, sweat and determination to keep flames burning on the stove?

    How different then love be from war?
    ©totempole

  • totempole 31w

    My Favourite English Word

    My favourite word in English is

    Alphabet,

    Because,

    It gives life to the language,
    Like a pregnant womb to expected arrivée.
    ©totempole

  • totempole 31w

    Kindness Is A Gift

    which makes spirits uplift,
    More a lifelong memory than a whift,

    It acts as sieve twixt black n white,
    Separating wrong from right,
    Like a trotting steed with shining armored knight,

    For is it not balm to embittered soul,
    Like a dark eyed beauty with lip adorned mole,
    Making the heart complete and whole,

    For what is life without Kindness,
    Like a flower without freshness,
    Like an arid life without devoutness,

    Had it not been for Kindness, existence would be drudgery,
    Akin to garden without fragrance,
    Or birds without melody,
    Thank Heavens it flavours existence,
    Like Romance with love and flattery..
    ©totempole

  • totempole 31w

    Dukh Hota Hai..

    जब मासूम ज़िंदगीयों को नष्ट होते देखता हूँ,
    दुख होता है,
    जब बेसहारों की फरीयाद अनसुनी हवे में बिखर जाती हैं,
    दुख होता है,
    जब बेज़ुबानों के आंसूं बेहती रहती हैं,
    दुख होता है,
    जब ऐसी बातें आम हो जाती हैं,
    तब आक्रोश शुरू होता है
    जब आक्रोश शुरू होता है, तब
    मासूमियत छिन जाता है,
    बेसहारे संभल जाते हैं,
    बेज़ुबांँ चीखते हैं,
    तब दुख नहीं होता है।।
    ©totempole

  • totempole 32w

    Hold My Hand

    Like a pick axe, so I can help dig,
    A better foundation, a deeper foundation,
    Hold my hand, Like a shovel,
    so I can scoop mud, to clear the way,
    Hold my hand, Like a brick,
    so I can build,
    Hold my hand, Like a brick trowel,
    so I can fill the gaps with mortar,
    Hold my hand, Like a float,
    so I can plain the rough to bring the smooth,
    Hold my hand, Like a measuring tape,
    so I can give the right measure,
    Hold my hand, Like a right angle, a measuring tape &, plumb bob,
    so that I give right angles, height & turns,
    Hold my hand, For the last time,
    like the first Rose that you ever gave me,
    For this is the last time you will,
    Before I am lowered into my Final Resting Tomb,
    Hold my hand, for ever..
    ©totempole

  • totempole 32w

    Umeed Nahin Chodhna

    क्योंकि उमीद ही तो है,
    उमीद नहीं तो, है क्या?
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि उमीद सांसे हैं
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि सांसे हैं तो ज़िंदा हैं,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि ज़िंदा हैं तो ये दुनिया है,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि दुनिया है तो इंतेकाम है,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि इंतेकाम है तो मंज़िलें हैं,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि मंज़िलें है तो फासलें हैं,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि फांसले है तो सफर है,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि सफर है तो अहसास हैं,
    इस लिए उमीद नहीं छोड़ना,
    क्योंकि अहसास हैं तो यादें हैं,
    यादें नहीं तो क्या जीना, क्या ज़िंदगी, क्या उमीद?
    ©totempole

  • totempole 32w

    Thoda Kam Bhi Chalega

    गर झूठ की बात हो,
    थोडा कम भी चलेगा,
    अगर फरेब की बात हो,

    थोडा कम भी चलेगा,
    अगर असत्य की बात हो
    थोडा कम भी चलेगा,
    अगर ईर्शा की बात हो,

    थोडा कम भी चलेगा,
    अगर लालच की बात हो,
    थोडा कम भी चलेगा,
    अगर क्रोध की बात हो,

    थोडा कम नहीं चलेगा,
    अगर तिरंगे की बात हो तो,
    तब पूरी सौ फीसदी बात होगी,
    सारे जहांँ से अछा हिंदोस्तां हमारा...
    ©totempole

  • totempole 32w

    In The Midst Of The Night 

    In the midst of the night,
    Our minds still, yet are not.
    In the midst of the night,
    Thoughts & minds racing, randomly or concentratedly, say what?

    In the midst of the night,
    Tense and tired, are we still,
    Whether verbally stated or written with paper and quill.

    In the midst of the night,
    Grateful and obligated to Life & God, still we are not,
    Dissatisfied and greedy for matters beyond our reach, are we not?

    In the midst of early morn,
    How many rise with a smile on the face & prayer on the lip ?
    For man hath everything at his beckon, yet gazillion things remain beyond reach and pip.

    In the midst of early morn,
    To face yet again Life and another day,
    Leaving aside yesterday's losses and  misses,
    Can we focus on what is ahead or by the lay,
    Yet again waving off with smiles, shortfalls, losses and misses?
    ©totempole

  • totempole 33w

    Perspectives

    Aren't perspectives simply wonderful? Especially when they tend to clear the fog, sort the thoughts, realign thoughts again, polish words and the mind which generates those words, allowing their most preferential alignment and arrangement onto a medium to convey the idea, thoughts and enable the purpose of communication...
    Nothing like experience and perspective..

    The rationale ones, those which appeal to the thought processes most at that point of time, the ones that are in sync with the prevalent state of mind, the ambient environment, acceptable temperatures which we humans are always so susceptible to.. And which we are so confused or clear about, those are the ones we fear or comprehend, respectively and discard or subscribe to immediately, also respectively.

    Greater experience, elevated thoughts, ascension in Maslow's Theorem & Triangle, maturity, willingness to listen, increasing stillness within each one of us are amongst the facilitators to listening to unsaid thoughts, words and feelings.
    They open probable Third eyes and ears which allow greater understanding and acceptability.

    Acceptance of one's own abilities as well as limitations as well as ability and acceptance of living with them, open hearts and minds giving wing to fears and accepting others superiorities or abilities and strengths. Without doubting or diluting one's own, in comparison.

    To hold one's own in any and every situation.

    This equilibrium allows one to find paths through the minefields of human insecurities, complexes, fears of known and unknown reasons and future uncertainties. To deliver desired results and reach attempted destinations and aimed goals.

    Perspectives are wonderful, aren't they..?
    ©totempole

  • rusted_dreams 44w

    Mirror Image

    When I was young, I was taught I could be anything, must the only thing I truly MUST do is be able to respect the person I see in the mirror. Now as I come to my twilight years I can say that;

    Although I have missed goals, I have not given up.
    Although I have done things I am not proud of, I have learned lessons and bettered myself through the experience.
    Although I have made mistakes, I have learned from them so I did not keep making the SAME mistakes.
    Although I have been accused of wrongdoings, even found guilty of wrongdoings by courts, I have NEVER been GUILTY of wrongdoings that I didn't own up to and try to correct.
    I have led a good and happy life, and believe that I have passed wisdom to my children.

    In my waning years, I do not seek death but neither do I fear it. I do not go out of my way to harm others but I will defend my own to the extent of my ability. And yes, I can honestly say, I still respect the person I see in the mirror.

    ©rusted_dreams

  • funeralcake 47w

    #ramblings #drunken_ramblings #freeform #freeform_poetry
    Some days all we hear is grinding metal and rubber screeching across wet asphalt.

    Read More

    The world is uncaring,
    People sit high upon their thrones,
    Ever moving, ever shifting,
    Chasing after a road only they can see
    Regardless of who they trample along the way.

    The world is screaming.
    It's there in the screeching tires.
    In the million footsteps, like heartbeats.
    In the clack of keys and drone of voices.
    A steady cadence we've taught ourselves to ignore.

    The world is dying.
    It's there in clenched fists and muffled sobs
    In the hidden monsters behind polite smiles
    In the rain drops falling down shattered glass panes,
    Stained red, red, red..
    ©funeralcake

  • veesthoughts 50w

    Depression

    The enemy that's living within
    Desperately wants out
    But never finds the way
    So it doesn't go anywhere
    It stays and it screams
    Banging on all of my walls
    It never gets restless, never sleeps
    3AM comes and I'm wide awake
    I've tried to drown out the sound with
    ...some laughter
    ...shots of whiskey
    ...extra loud music
    But nothing ever seems to work
    Nothing can calm it down





    ©veesthoughts

  • limitededitionweirdo 51w

    End

    What goes through our minds in our last moments?
    What is a person's last thoughts?
    Do they think of the life they are about to leave behind?
    Dreams they had hoped to fulfil?
    The people they loved?
    The legacies they were yet to leave?
    Money saved in the bank?
    Are they filled with fear?
    Fear of the cold blackness about to envelop them?
    Are they terribly heartbroken at their truncated journey?
    I think they would be, I think by the shock of life's betrayal,
    Life's betrayal by handing them to death would be the ultimate and final heartbreak a human feels just at the door of death.

    ©limitededitionweirdo

  • jordynbrower 54w

    How I Feel

    Sometimes I hate writing because I always compare my writing to other books and/or movies, and I'm always like, "Why isn't this as good as what they wrote?" The worst part about not being able to feel a lot of emotions as a writer is that you can't actually tell rather what you're writing is heartfelt or not, and honestly if I write something that doesn't change someone's outlook on life, I feel like I've failed as a writer, and that the book I wrote doesn't even matter because it didn't actually contribute anything to society, good or bad. Like I don't want my book to be just a book, I want it to be a life lesson, but writing a life lesson is so hard because they're supposed to have hope and light at the end, but I just don't think that way. It's super hard to explain, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't understand how other people's minds work and I don't understand how my own mind works, so I feel like I'm writing for a confused audience, and then my writing turns out confused, and everything's just confusing.
    ©jordynbrower