Unfathomed delight

Is this just what it seems to be?
Or just another mirage, for my soul wants to loiter,
To stray; easy and free.
Against the odds, the conventions, the fears
Working is the hither struggling device
Is this not just another moment
In which my logic dies?

Not has been a moment of remorse
That I had seemed to bear in this course,
For I have looked upon everything
Just as a necessary price…
For lessons are to be learned, to be cherished, to bloom
And for that, this is a device.

© Snehal Sahay 2014

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Darkness of the doom

The Hummingbird

The Hummingbird (Photo credit: .craig)

 

 

The night is so dark and deep

That sometimes even the angels freak;

Shut their eyes and clutch their faces,

Hiding somewhere in their blossoms

Their gentle identities…

 

The night is so dark and deep….

 

The mystic aura of the unknown rising

Sometimes growing, sometimes hiding

The later bothers more than the former

The nightmare ruining their momentary please;

Their gentle identities…

 

The night is so dark and deep….

 

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©2013 SNEHAL SAHAY

 

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Infected

 

 

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image courtesy : Google

 

When those gentle pairs of fingers

Touched my dampened soul

A shriek for life grew within my corpse

My mass, tattered and cold…

 

She held my finger and didn’t let go off

Cuddling like a bloom

Her eyes opened and met my old gaze

Pampering my unpromising room…

 

The shabby room then lit like a fortress of destiny

My princess gleamed like a gem

Her shimmering eyes with silky shrilly hairs girdled

Like the sun veiled with a cloudy frame…

 

courtesy: google

 courtesy : Google

 

Her hands waved in the air around

In some type of magical glamour

Entangling with the wires of my dome

Leaving me to mere blubber…

 

Her cheerful giggles and outraged cries

Infecting the melancholic existence of mine

Setting the birds of nostalgia gratis

Made me something of a shine…

 

Her crystal brown dreamy eyes

Her sparkling adorable laughter like wine

Made my life infected with love

Unconditional, noble and purely divine.

 

 

 

©2013

Snehal Sahay

 

 

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This post is written under the Trifecta Writing challengehttp://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/2013/03/trifecta-week-sixty-nine.html

 

 

Enjoy the paradox!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She

grl3

Pleasant sunshine once hit her face

But she unwillingly turned around

Clutching away the sadness she had enrolled

Since the day she was found

No one did ask her about her distress

No one did care, no one did crave

The soul never sighed, the soul never leaped

The soul only whimpered in her sleep

At times she bubbled, at times she blurred

But something mystified the aura around her

Such confused and such perplexed

Was I when I thought about her…

Once her brown beady eyes saw some rain

And then I did spot their hidden pain

But still she lied, still remained strong in fib

This made the paper touch my nib

Such was she…

grl1

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Thanks for being a part of my paradox!

Enjoy!!!

Perception

 

w38.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perceptions (1)

 

Persistence is terribly fictional

In this world so erratic

 Whose denials are so deep

That even truth denies itself…

 

©2013 Snehal Sahay

 

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“PERCEPTIONS”

It means, “Insight, Awareness, Discernment, Observation, Sensitivity, Vision, Outlook, Point of view”etc.

These are my short verses/poetry pieces/prose(S), or whatever one wants to name them. Now on, I am taking them up as one of my way of  personnel and free expression, rhyme or not, meters or not, pun or not, literary or not.

We need to break the former bonds to let expression remain boundless….

Just wanted to give it a name…a common one.

Thanks for being a part of paradox!

 

 

 

 

 

If just…

if

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If just life flew like water

Hearts would not burn as fire,

If just love over-rode lust

We would live, not just desire….

.

.

.

If just time passed like wind

The wounds won’t sting each time and pain,

If just understanding rode over egos,

Eyes would bubble instead of rain…

.

.

.

If just thoughts escaped like sand

Little moments won’t be called days,

If just feelings could speak aloud

Words won’t get wasted in endless ways…

 

If just…

 

 

©2012

 

 

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Thanks for being with me and being a part of my paradox.

Enjoy!