Crash, burn

Crash, burn, play havoc for idle dreams soon die,

why shy now after your dreams lost all your dignity,

claim it and fight for it and never give up for anyone’s cry,

it is now or never, with your lazy mirth raze the city;

have guts, funds locked with family and friends,

feels cheap to beg or haggle for money,

be stubborn and ask for your due after making amends,

you fed with failure’s tonic might just taste honey;

take a gamble and make a final plunge,

win or lose you would have tried,

if refused this then alone lunge,

for then it would have been better to have died;

victory over my dreams shall be mine,

for I will no longer wither and pine.


I was taught to read

I was taught to read and write,

and assumed a haughty chair,

deeming me gifted and bright,

in a bustling market dull my ware;

had nothing except words simple,

told they were worth dime a dozen,

feasted on those words ample,

to satiate hunger, this rejected heathen;

held no true might my words trite,

beauty others wrote filling coffers,

yet I scribble until my funeral rite,

even when devoid of lofty offers;

world a play ground to those hound,

but a battle ground for me unsound.   


He, he, he, want a poem, seek a poet,
want romance, find a girl, dance a  duet,
want a laugh, seek a painted buffoon,
why seek me? did I ask? don’t leave soon;

Don’t look me with puppy eyes,
I mere fly that can’t reach skies,
I have nothing to offer bold you,
I have company with only a few;

can’t make you laugh,
can’t take you my staff,
can’t dance with you,
can’t give you your due;

but do stay on, for I can listen,
your woes and conquests my mission. 

Something fruitful

I want to do something fruitful with my life. I want to do something useful and productive with my life. My current style of blogging doesn’t quite cut it. I am not really growing in any skill or as a person. That might not be entirely true for with each new scribbling I exercise some skill and improve upon my ability to create. Yet most of what I write is not there high in value and I am left feeling I could do better.

When I step in to my blog it feels I am in a chaotic universe. I don’t write good except rarely. What I do is empty the contents of my mind as it is. This can be a catharsis but leaves a big mess. The garbage accumulated is so dense that the few gems in between seem invisible. Yet still I love every word of it when I read for I can relate to and understand what even the gibberish garbage implies. For an outsider it might seem an untidy room with the stench unbearable.

I must have scribbled more than a two hundred poems. Yet if I were to choose for a poem book I can’t select more than a couple of poems. That is because many of it I don’t consider great in entirety. They might need reworking but reworking kills the heart of anything. Anyway I am far away from a poetry book.

At least my poems have helped me improve. I naturally write poems in the form of shakespearean sonnet. But my prose and writing features or articles like this is completely off key. I ramble instead of being precise and crisp. So with my stories. I’ve written few of them. Blogs didn’t seem the place for it until I found others doing great. I must write more stories.

But does writing in a blog help my writing style and encourage creation of good prose and stories. I don’t think so yet I do as I have little option left. My normal work in the soon to be opened restaurant in my hometown isn’t anything to write home about. I shall be sitting in the cash counter all day probably fretting over my blog there too. Running a restaurant is no easy joke or take. But it shall be all delegated to and friends and well-wishers shall help it. My brother shall oversee the whole thing. I promise myself to be there in all its working hours. That itself is a big step for me. To work after slumbering and sleeping for over ten years.

Coming back to the issue, the poetry book or a novel isn’t happening any time soon. But they are my only ambition. I hope to be somewhere near my goal when I turn forty in three years time. May be my blog will also have grown in that time. As time is a main essence of how a blog can grow. How to employ my time usefully that they lead to my aim in a surefire manner. How can I use the blog to achieve my goals. I don’t have the answers yet.

Whatever it is life is a lonely journey for me. My writing gives company for me. Yet the company of fellow writers would be greatly appreciated as well. The very first thing I can do is instead of writing directly in to the blog I can work separately and try to make quality features before I post them. I must write more prose and stories. I should focus on the style. It applies to poems also. The content I write is good enough for me. It is the style that I must focus on. Apart from stories I must train to write good features or articles such as these. For who knows instead of a poetry book or novel a non fiction book may happen. I want to be an established and acclaimed writer no matter what I write.

I now read mostly other bloggers as I am now on a leave from reading novels. I must read blogs on writing, blogging, poetry etc to hone my skills. I found lots of resources from the net but am not sure as to what the blogging world has to offer. I must check it out.

Above all there must be consistency. With Quality and improvement of my writing as the new mantra I am taking on a new avatar. It will be a hard transition. I want a concrete path to reach my goals. I shall find them first and share them with you.

Another thing is to be not single minded and dogged in one’s pursuit. For then we will lose steam soon. I’ve been like that. I am thinking of learning new things and finding new hobbies in the net. I can learn art appreciation or cooking for that matter. Cooking is too daunting may be poetry appreciation and knowing various aspects of it will distract and at the same time help in my goal. You get the drift.

I need to write things professionally a few features on topics that other bloggers can find useful. I can try podcasting with audios alone or make a vlog video blog post once in a while.

Now folks do comment on how to realise my goals working through the context of this blog. If any of you found anything useful in my sharing this I would be a happy person indeed.

Wish me luck for turning a new leaf.


I’ve never been far

I’ve never been far from my hometown,

never been the one to visit places nice,

There is a place in my brain far down

that is the closest I get to paradise; 

never glimpsed much, the beauty of the world,

locked for long in my secure comfortable zone,

yet ever keenly enthralled by beauty of the word,

chasing perfection tends to be accident prone;

someday I say, some day I too shall venture far,

far away from the hustle and bustle of the mundane,

where to go is next but who with me will step in my car,

I can either take up someone to travel by my side

or plunge alone deep in to the realms of my inside. 

I write raw

I write raw,

with many a flaw,

else no thaw,

frozen the writing claw,

there is some rhyme,

but little to no meter,

can I call it poem after,

is it worth a dime;

I write simple,

on things trivial,

like a baby’s dimple,

sweet but not quite cordial;

I am a dare that writes without a care,

yet longing for words and thoughts you can spare.

I need a comment

I need a comment

don’t know what does prevent

is it because of some folly

I know it is silly;

yet means world to me

I’ll do as you say, do few cartwheel,

just with a comment leave me be,

for they aren’t snack but my meal;

I am here all alone

here weakly begging

a comment now a sweet cone

that I’ll slurp like a king;

for what I ask is easy to give

if you don’t I’ll never forgive.


I grappled

I grappled a lot with the aesthetics

spending time abundant on cosmetics

but couldn’t hide the scalding truth

that I am nothing but a savage uncouth;

can I ever have the style and poise

that I admire in others of my choice,

do I need it at all

yes, I need to be normal

but as there is a peak

there will be a trough weak;

should I accept and move

or fight with a courageous brew.;

all said and done I will never belong,

the wildness in me has been there too long.