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Home
"I am from here, I am from there, yet I am neither here nor there". - Mahmoud Darwish I reach home, home. It fails to recognise me, the tide of being "other" hits the shores of my heart, and washes away the joy. I walk through the streets: strangers, strangers. No friends. "When are you going back?" A new neighbour asks. Everything has changed. New houses, new lanes, new idols, new songs, new aroma in the air. My heart whispers in a language of loss: I am from here, I am from there, yet I am neither here nor there. (22/05/2021) (Poet's Espresso Review- USA- 2022) ©️ https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Proem
I believe in reason, In free will, In science, In human stupidity, And in the magic of love. I believe we are slaves Of our habits, Our desires, our biases. I believe our decisions Are mostly automatic, Bypassing reason. I know science casts doubts About free will, And flirts with Determinism, But that negates Our individual responsibility. I have doubts about Fatalism, About pre-determined destiny, As they contradict The concept of divine justice. I believe we can change things If we have a burning desire To change, remain persistent, And are willing to face failures. One needs thousand pages book, An encyclopaedia, to explain Such complex beliefs. This is my Proem. (14/04/22) (Poet's Espresso Review- USA- 2022) ©drjal02, © https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Emptiness
When you carry the sack of your emptiness in your heart, and make desperate attempts to fill your stabbing void: you end up mixing with the wrong people, in wrong places, in wrong beds, around the wrong tables; you start ignoring setting healthy boundaries in your interactions; you start drinking, smoking, buying, the wrong stuff for the ephemeral pleasures; you start carrying the ghosts of your past into your every interaction. Until you realise you are falling into a deeper abyss, filled with the guilt, with the shame; and someone nudges you to go into your own-self and explore your inner world; until you find a bigger purpose, work persistently towards your goals, learn to regulate your emotions; and someone discovers the treasure of pearls and rubies in the basement of your soul; until you find a way to untie your wings and fly in the spacious sky of a nourishing love; you will find yourself, repeatedly, failing in weaving the delicate bond of healthy, fulfilling, enduring relationships. (a small poetic attempt to highlight the maladoptive and healthy ways to deal with chronic emptiness) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Like a poem
Sitting in a cafe Of a hotel lobby, I read her patiently Like a Rumi poem. Her every feature, well Aligned, stimulates An imagery, evokes desires, Infuses longing. Her smiles, dimples, Playful eyes, The vanilla scent Of her skin, The dexterity Of hands, lips, and tongue, The colour of her eyes, The curl of her back, All crafted, perfectly, together Like the stanzas of a poem. Her every glance, Every laughter, The sound Of every syllable, like a metaphor, Enough to ignite the fire Of my imagination. (Poet's Espresso Review- USA-2022) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Time is going to come
When we will cruise smoothly, In self-driving cars, watching Our favourite TV shows Projected straight into our eyes At the command of our voices; When everything will be under the close watch Of unblinking eyes, Unmanned robots and drones; When our doctors, lawyers, Accountants and bankers, Will be replaced By labour-saving algorithms Running on smart machines; When we will enjoy reading Poetry, and novels, Written by AI machines; When our likes, and dislikes, Strengths, and imperfections, Emotions and little secrets, Will all be digitalised by big corporates; When we all will be nudged, By smart machines, to choose Specific cars, houses, Jobs, and partners; When the keys to the house Of our souls Will be operated by digital corporations; When we will be mere digital slaves, With an illusionary free will, in the hands Of giant digital firms. (The Beautiful Space- A Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry 2022) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ It hurts
It hurts that I can't watch you grow On a daily basis. How you put on your uniform, Gel your hair, Play rugby, And excel at school. Every day I imagine, listening To your stories, advising you About the road ahead, Watching you smile. How we splash, as allowed By the people, our grey sky With bright colours. How we fill the rooms Of our hearts, the hands Of our souls, With the seeds of happiness, And yearning. How I watch the time Coil like a snake Around the weary wings Of the life. How I watch dark clouds, spread Across the sky Of my mind, enter my house. It hurts that vast continents, Sky kissing mountains, Bottomless seas, back breaking Flights, have been placed, Mercilessly, between us. (2016) ©️ https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ A patient note
I am in a hospital: dressed in a hospital gown, reclining in a bed of pain, aware of an irritating catheter draining the pink urine into a bag; the city skyline illuminates my room window; I scroll down the pictures, the people, in my phone; an absence fills the shelves of my mind. I pine for simple things, like piddling, like washing, in privacy, with dignity. (07/03/2021) (Setu Literary Magazine- USA) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ We often believe
We will be able to hide Our true essence, the fabric Of our soul, indefinitely, Behind a mask, carrying A tongue of Mandela. We often forget the maxim: Our actions, not the silk Of our words, or our dresses, Will eventually unravel us, Revealing our true spirit, The Mugabe within. (03/06/22) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Our brain
Our brain, as old as the sea, carries the footprints of our every activity, a shape carved by our experiences, our ancestors, our environment. Like a cask of memories carries our identity, heirlooms; a universe filled with our own sunshine, clouds, people, and beasts. Like a parliament, our brain, debates endlessly about our conflicting, endless, desires. Our brain, a shape-shifter, constantly rewrites its circuitry. Every day our brain tries to break free from its reptile instincts, its ape behaviours, its Neanderthal desires. The spring of our ecstasy, anxiety, depression, fear, and love, is hidden in the recesses of our brain. Despite all the hyperbole about the human logic, most of our activities run on an autopilot, by-passing reason, by-passing consciousness. (The Beautiful Space- A Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry 2022) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Every seed needs
Every seed needs The right soil The manure The rain The sunshine The dream The patience The endurance And a pair of caring hands To become a garden © drjal02 https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ I know a girl
I know a girl with eyebrows like calligraphy lines, deep eyes, an anklet, fragrant hair that falls on her shoulders. She counts her every step, every calorie, every inch, to refine her valleys, her waist. She can't find the magic in lush green meadows, in swirling snowflakes, near murmuring streams. One day lost in her thoughts, a clan of butterflies whispered in her ears: be careful with the tricks of mind, maybe you are a violin, in search of right fingers, waiting to create a perfect symphony. Then a solitary butterfly whispered to her longing soul: be careful with the crowd, maybe you are a solitary rose that needs delicate pruning, daily watering with fresh dew; be careful with the snares, maybe you are a bird waiting for a flight. Here I tell a fleeting breeze: say hello to her when she is looking into a mirror, kiss her eyes, bring back a waft of her inner scent. Here I close my eyes: I find us in a seafront cafe, on a peninsula, whispering our dreams to a lustrous moon. ©️drjal02 ©️ https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ There again
There again is our history Witnessing a twilight, A season of grief, a winter In the middle of a summer. There again are we sitting On a fence, rubbing Our sleepy eyes, watching Our sky shrink. There again are our stars Scattered like the dust Under the Emperor's feet. There again is a raven, riding A holy horse, Calling himself a dove. ©️ https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Mango people
She said: we are mango people, We don't read or write poetry; We don't create, or knead A better universe for others; We don't weave the peace With our acts, words or tweets. He said: the comparison Is an insult, a denigrating Act, against the mangoes; Our magical fruit Pleases our senses, Never schemes Using serpentine thoughts, Never spews the venom. ©drjal02, © https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ An Attic Hand
There is a steed of life, within all of us. It is tall, muscular, hyperventilating with the air of our desires. We all mount it, gaily, carrying an armour of reason, a sword of free will. We all make our steed neigh, trot, and gallop at our own will; until an Attic Hand grabs its reins. (Poet's Espresso Review- USA) ©️drjal02 Social media
Like an irresistible intrusive impulse I keep checking my social media accounts, More than I initially thought I would. Everyone here carries a tongue Of Martin Luther King, a heart of Rumi, A soul of Mandela, a mind of Socrates; Everyone here uses Likes and Shares, A new currency of altruism and activism. Everyone here sends love emojis Across the oceans, yet ignoring Their families, their friends, across the tables, Their neighbours down the streets. People discover their inner activist, Inner philosopher, inner poet, Inner prejudice and bigotry here. People behave like celebrities here. My News-feed is colourful like a rainbow. Sadness has evaporated from our perfect Timelines, yet sharp icicles of loneliness Hang from the grey ceilings of our minds. ©drjal02, © https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ How to be happy
"Never", say philosophers, chase happiness. More you chase it, more elusive happiness becomes. If you can learn to invest in your family, friends, community, and work, and not move like an unhinged asteroid; If you can find a purpose, beyond yourself, to live, and not get caught in your vanities; If you can find an activity, a hobby, where you forget the daily drudgery, and live in the present moment; If you can remember everyone gets his share of problems, and learn to carry a hope despite life's tribulations; If you can use gratitude to tame your unbridled desires, and learn to interpret life experiences more positively; And if you can stop, throwing seeds on sand, chasing happiness, THEN you will discover the truth: "happiness is a side effect of leading a good, meaningful, life". (Poet's Espresso Review- USA) ©️drjal02 O dreams
O dreams, you give wings to our lives. You encourage slaves, born in the cradle of misery, to aspire freedom from their masters. Your fire emboldens a nation to rise against a tyranny. O dreams, you sweeten the pain of a pauper. Riding the chariot of hope, he carries the dreams of possessing the riches. Your saccharine consolations help a prisoner to fight the pangs of loneliness. O dreams, seeds buried under the blanket of snow, in your warm company, sprout during the spring. You squeeze out the sap of stagnation from our hearts, from our minds. You inspire us to know the secrets hidden in the heavens. O dreams, in your pleasing company, we navigate around the boulders of daily difficulties, carrying the earthly, and the celestial dreams, in our hearts. I say: hold fast to your dreams, for they manure the roots of hope, for they illuminate the precincts of our hearts, for they sustain us between the alp of life and the precipice of death. (Gushing Fountain- A Collection of Poems) @drjal02 Once again
Just when I thought I had doused my fires, I saw an amorous spring changing things again; Just when I saw snowdrops, hellebore, Dancing tulips, and the sunshine, I saw my dreams murmuring again; Just when I saw the fluttering Butterflies, and the singing birds, I saw an old flame flickering again. Once again, caught in the talons Of leman, my heart is carried helplessly Over a new terrain. Once again, my days are filled With the ecstasy, and strain. @drjal02 It is not every day I feel my heartbeat,
I hear it bouncing, like a ball on a ping pong, Its cusps flapping like sails of a ship. It is not every day I get a tide of dopamine, I feel dreamy, open, vulnerable, And dangling over a cliff edge. It is not every day I enjoy the sunshine, I clear my deadwood, I notice daffodils, the purple lilies, And the colour of butterflies. It is not everyday, streams sound like flutes, Roses sprout in battlefields, Doves rest on canons, Dawn rides on the wings Of butterflies, rain rejuvenates the garden Of memories. It is not every day we feel a Spring, When life crawls back to the Life, when heart breaks Its icicles and flutters in an ecstasy. (The Galways Review- Ireland) ©https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ I no longer talk about
How life stops gazing at tomorrow, how life freezes dreams in our daily drudgery. I no longer talk about an endless road, the ruins of a pining nation, the silence of our song. I whisper my poverties in the ears of my solitude. I illuminate my cave with the light of my dreams. (The Galway Review-- Ireland) @drjal02 I love dreaming
I love dreaming About a place, Pahalgam, Where I whispered with a friendly breeze, Where I discovered the face of peace, Where I observed the fluttering wings Of colourful butterflies. I still hear the soulful music Of its river, the symphony Of our tolerance. I remember, a forest, collecting Pine cones as souvenirs, galloping A white horse in a meadow, Sitting on river boulders, Dipping my feet in the river, when no one Chained our steps. Here, across the oceans, I recall Everything: the sweet delights Of student life, camping Along the musical river, shuffling cards Of happiness, the comradeship, A neighing horse calling "I am here, where are you?". One day we shall return To that magical place, The gateway to the cave Of a deity, when no wailing Echoes from its valleys, When no grief plays on its flute. One day we shall sit, again, Along the river Liddar, breathing An air of safety, Under a white moon. Until then, we shall continue To carry the sack, Of our dreams, On our shoulders. (Scarlet Leaf Review-Canada) @ https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ As I sit in a room thinking
As I sit in a room Thinking About the phantoms Of the past, The uncertainties of future; I imagine my mind, like a room, With two doors. First I see a tide of fears, a fog Of gloom, entering my mind Through one door; Then without letting them To take roots in the soil Of my mind, I watch my thoughts leave slowly Through the second door. (Setu- Literary Magazine- USA) ©️drjal02 Facts and Values
As I sat in a lush green field, With the Sun hiding behind Silver clouds, I heard two old men Debating about the importance Of facts and values. One sage said: Facts are the most important Thing in life; With Facts, we can map The course of our lives, Stars, everything in nature. Another sage calmly replied back: You could know all the facts Under the sun, And still not know which facts Are important; you could Know all the facts about The physiological changes Caused by love and yet be Oblivious to what love is; You could know all the facts About the brutalities Faced by a nation, But still not know its courage, Dignity and resilience During the adversities. How I noticed clouds Disappeared quietly, and Sun rays Glowed our faces. ©️https://www.poeticnoesis.com/ Of man
Just a pile of some flesh dressed up on a few bones, with some veins and arteries branching in and out of a pump; with a little breath constantly going in and out; with a myriad of formless thoughts due to the action of neurons; with an insatiable hunger, for new things, he is often unsatisfied with the things he owns; with unharnessed desires, and a fear of being ordinary, he sprints on a thousand feet with an odd cramp of altruism. Finally his flesh, his bones, his vanities, his dreams, dissolve into the elements, disappear into a nothingness. Perhaps a regular reflection on this reality will ease many of vanities and maladies. (The Galway Review-Ireland) ©️drjal02 O life
At dawn you greet us with bird songs, energise our spirits, with the first rays of sunlight, to overcome the hurdles on our paths, to steel our resolve against your vicissitudes. At noontide you sweeten our pain of daily struggles, rekindle our dying desires with the warmth of the sun, allure us with the sweetmeats of hope, and display the illusionary rainbows to our heart's contentment. At eventide we eat the bread kneaded by our sweat, drink the wine of our desires, draw the comfort for our tiring bodies, and prepare to sow new seeds of hope in the fields of our dreams. Then next day, again, besotted by your seductive baits, hypnotised by your new dreams, we forget your deceitful nature, we forget the approach of your unbecoming sister. (Gushing Fountain-A Collection of Poems) @drjal02 |
PoemsThese poems have been previously published in various literary journals, magazines, books and anthologies around the globe including the UK, the USA, Ireland and Canada.
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