Eraser-dust

Twinkling stars shined and faded,
And in the moon kissed winter night,
I tried to leave you a note,
All I could manage was "eraser dust"

I looked at the white steam
Rising and fading, from the coffee mug.
The end is near,
The ritual of looking back and saying "goodbye"
Can I skip it?

I promised
"A letter when we part our ways,
I will write to you."
And you had asked,
Your voice soaked in love,
"A poem?"

"Where is the poem?"
A poem for a friend
Who has refused to listen,
To my eyes that hide
Pain in anger.
And a poet who has tried
So hard to remain silent.
That he has forgotten the words.

"You are my poem."
I had said,
I have written you slowly,
By playing stupid tricks to make you smile.
By pretending to be angry
To make you cry.
By being not me,
But better, better than I could ever be.
By trying so hard every time,
For the perfect words.
That you think
I had faked it all along.

You are my poem,
The only brilliant masterpiece
Of a writer of junks, drafts and trash.

My poem has fallen apart,
Word by word,
It has erased itself
And my pain has lingered
In the eraser dust.

"Where is the poem?"
A poem that would make you turn back
And wave at me...
Your eyes that look stranger each day,
Your smile that I keep searching.
And a poem that's missing.
And memories like eraser-dust.

Sometimes, it all seems
Like a dream that ended so soon.
Like none of it happened.
Like you were really a poem
That someone erased.
Took the words from me
and left me a paper
With eraser-dust.

Words!

To mend that imperfect line,

I look for words again,

A lost poet tries hard,

To dip his love in sea of pain.


If words ever mattered,

I would have found a way,

You walk over the tottered pages,

Where my afraid dreams lay.


My heart beats in stern silence,

I care not for the blessed rhyme,

I have lost my song,

In the noise of indifferent time.


I still love for the sake of love,

And love talks in broken sighs,

Have you noticed the blood,

In my two smiling eyes.


Desperate to lose it all,

I walk to the edge of dark,

I have hoped long to heal,

My wounds remain open and stark.


To mend that imperfct line,

I look for words again,

Why write a poem for you,

Words are destined to go in vain.

(c)Ankur Shrivastava

A Poet Died

A Poet Died

"Once upon a time",
On an empty street,
Poetry touched him.
And ever since,
He groped
In emptiness.

He used to sit by the window
In afternoons
His hands shivered in cold.
The sun had no warmth
Just a glowing dot
Like the tip of a cigarette.

Love visited often
The address written
On pale envelopes.
But no flowers ever blossomed,
Poems grew
Like weeds.

He had little ladders
He kept them between the lines
To reach one's heart.
And he wrote with his gift
Many a letters
That ended in trash.

On a sad evening, yesterday,

He stole a poem 

From his soul

And wrote it on the sky.

Dark!

A candle flickered,

Dim...

And melted 

Before its time.

Yesterday,
He read the epilogue
All to himself,
On the same old street
He sat and cried.

Yesterday,
Was just another day,
For, no one noticed it;
Not even the man
Sitting beside him.
Yesterday,
A poet died.

(c) Ankur Srivastava

Wrong Dream!

Have you ever dreamt?
Tender and misty,
Unknowingly...
Without calculation,
And felt it hit you
In the chest.

A heavy heart,
A heavy sigh...
Have you searched
For those wishing wells
From fairy tales...

I have...
And so I stand on the shore,
Waves come, tides rise and fall,
No clue of the missing pearls
From my eys.

After every triumph
Have you known...
The glory is shortlived
The admiration false.

I have...
And so I stand
On the losing side.
Waiting for time to deliver
That knockout punch.

And when I close my eyes forever,
I will dream one last time,
My dear dream
That went wrong.

(c)Ankur Shrivastava

Hell

My life has a little opening,
That leads straight to hell...
I shut my eyes
To save from nightmares,
To stop peeping through that crack.
This is how I dream.

I have seen ghosts,
With wide awake eyes,
Their eyes, faces and shadows
Like you and me...
But I never know
If one walked right into my life...
Into me?

Often I think
When did this crack first appear?
I have forgotten for so many days
I have lived at this doorstep of hell.
May be...It was always there.

And yet there was a time,
Of angels and lullabyes
Of true promises
And pristine love...
Those were the days
I never looked at that opening.

Last many nights
I feel this urge
To walk behind that crack
And vanish into the hell
That has slowly crept into my life...
Through that opening.

Drunk!!!

An open bottle of wine,
And ecstasy flows,
And shines,
Falls,
Broken to drops,
Lingers...

In a lonely room,
Lit by memories,
Of broken promises.

The ghosts hide,
In closets locked,
Never to be opened.

The world peeps,
Through cracks,
And I dont hide my face,
I smile,
Shameless.
Alcohol sustains.

Euphoria survives,
In fits and starts.

An icey cold edge,
Of devil's sword,
Comes from the lies lived.

I whisper goodbye,
Before the madness ends.

Copyright(c)Ankur Shrivastava

Be Delicate, My Love!

Be delicate, my love!
When you wake me up,
From my dreams.

And save me,
From the harsh sunlight,
Tuck me safely,
In your dreamy eyes.

Be delicate my love,
When you wake me up.
A dreamer I have always been,
And dont tell me please,
That I am a man of empty dreams.

We walk together,
Through this hollow tunnel,
For the sweet lights,
Of mornings we have dreamt for.

At the end of this tunnel,
Grant me one more night.
Where dreams breathes quiet,
And moon smiles,
Silver white.

Let me steal a dream,
From this fading dark.
My heart has lost its rhyme,
Kiss me one last time,
Before I wake up to find,
The dreams are all gone...

Be delicate, my love!
When you wake me up.

Story of a Bud and A Dew

A little bud amid thorns,
Beauty, shy of itself,
Yet urging to be touched.

A crystal dew from honey coated mist,
A suicidal wish brings it down,
To feel the touch of beauty.

The soft dew and the innocent bud,
First love’s purest kiss.
The dew romancing velvet petals,
Its tantalizing touch,
The bud blooms drenched in love.

Beauty in its full spring,
Invite the beast from far east.
The dew looks in awe,
At the Sun storming in,
Will the bud close again,
And grant him a life.

The infidel bud refuses to listen,
Developing into a wicked rose.

Just before its death,
The loving dew had to see,
The lusty sunrays
And the shameless naked rose.

Ah, before the sun could kill him,
His once beloved ashamed him to death.

copyright (c) Ankur

Death Of Love

In the court of love,
We stand still,
Heads bowed,
Two lovers,
Accused of killing love.
-----
Remember our last date,
Sitting across the table,
With nothing to say,
No one to listen.
We ate our own words,
Promises and dreams,
Silently.
-----
I, the eternal dreamer,
Now feel the pang,
Waking up...
You, too intelligent,
Today begging for dreams,
To keep a hope,
To live a lie.
-----
This pensive sigh,
This urge to die,
Is all that we still share.
-----
As we walk together,
For the last time.
our love shows the way,
To our separate graves.

The Ecstasy Of Pain 6

The Journey !

A rainbow washed away,

In a torrid rain.

An urge to fly

With clipped wings.

Beauty brutally raped,

Virgin body, battered soul.

In this weird world,

No surprise, I walk alone…

Desires burned away.

Hopes brushed aside

Dreams long forgotten.

Carefree steps,

A thumping heart…

Pain flows in the vessels.

Rampaging as a river.

A haunted winter night,

Remainig embers of guilt

Keeping me warm.

Notions falling apart.

Memories fading away.

A fresh beginning,

Every step.

Shadows chased

Horizons challenged.

On roads never visited,

Journey is the destination.

The Ecstasy Of Pain 5

No Tear Is Born!

Somewhere in a quiet universe,
Silence grows into a lull
And ultimately shatters itself.

Darkness melts in darkness,
Thick as blood,
Rigid as clot,
You can almost see through it.

In haunted ignominy,
Solitude remains your only friend,
The dreaded comes true,
You fall in love with it.
Solitude is a brutal soulmate.

Some wounds can never heal,
Neither with love
Nor with time.
They integrate with your being.
A wounded existence!

In a ruined womb of pain,
No tear has ever been born!
It aches and bleeds,
A terrible spasm,
No matter how hard you push!

In a ruined womb of pain,
No tear is born!

With You Or Without You

You try to read my eyes,
And I can’t tell you in your face,
That you read nothing,
You understand nothing.

My dreamy eyes have never lied,
You may have known my dreams,
If you had really tried.

It’s just that you look straight through me,
I feel ignored, and deserted.
Your eyes leave a sting in my soul
And yet you read nothing,
You know nothing.

It’s tough to be what I am,
A puzzle I have become,
You never bothered to know the code.
A boring riddle I am for you,
It’s tough to be what I am.

You want to walk along with me,
I want to hold your hand…
Preoccupied, you look away,
My cold hands are left trembling.

If one day I move ahead,
Or I fall back to catch my breath.
You will hold me guilty
And say it aloud,
You wanted to walk along with me.

But when we walk together,
Do you know,
How I hold back my screams,
How I drag my feet.

That I know this better,
You don’t want to walk with me.

You have a lot to offer me,
Your voice so sweet has often told me this
But dear, a reflection in my eyes can tell you
You just don’t know what I want.

With you or without you,
I yearn for you
And I never find you there.
With you or without you!

The Ecstasy Of Pain 3

I refuse to smile,
No, I can’t,
I am sad, I don’t feel cheerful.
Smile is the expression of bliss.
It should be innocent
Tender, playful,
May be naughty at times.
Like it once was.

It should not be forced
Or else,
It will look like a crack
A break, a scar, a wound.

It can’t be used as a mask.
I won’t wear facades.
I am not guilty,
I need not hide.

I am simply hurt,
Badly hurt,
Brutally hurt.
My pain is real, innocent
Please let it be.
Please let it heal.

I won’t scream
It’s not my way.
I need no lullabies
So, what if I can’t sleep.
I will stay up, awake;
And weave new dreams.

Silence will discover peace
Pain will meet joy.
I will find me.

I Am The Poem !

I am the poem !

You wrote a lovely poem
And threw it away,
Just because it didn’t rhyme?

You had told me,
“The lines are meaningless,
The dreams weaved are unreal,
It’s too abstract.
It can’t be sung,It reaches nowhere.”

Many unsung poems you have,
Between your books
Lost, forgotten.
Dead pieces of papers.

You kept it by your bed,
It was too abstract,
But you read it daily.

Yes, it was meaningless,
The letters were blurred.
Why? Did you cry?
You had brushed the question away
“No it did, it cries too.”

You held it to your chest,
You had said,
“One day, It will rhyme.”

You kissed the end lines,
“Ah, why can’t it reach somewhere.”

And then you threw it away,
Tell me, why?

Your poem is now bleeding.
it is about to die.

Tell me, why?

What if it can never rhyme?

I am the poem !

Joker

I make people laugh, they say I am a joker... I will tell you how it feels to be one,
It's about the real jokers, don't take this for me...

JOKER

I am a joker
with a smiling mask,
not a magician
but almost as amusing.

Thrown on the stage
to make you laugh.
The jokes you hear
are a kind of prayer,
a communication to God
my struggle to survive.

My mask vivid and colorful
reds and greens and yellows,
let the dark remain hidden.
Read the animated expressions
don’t look into my eyes
or I may crumble down.

Raise your hands
for a huge applause,
and grin, whistle and make my fun,
that’s what I am here for.

Please don’t sympathize,
don’t come for a handshake,
and don’t ask me how I feel,
don’t chase me behind the curtains.

I am a joker;
don’t ask my name
I don’t remember.
I was born normal
but its what they say
I don’t really know.

One day the show will end for me
but you won't get a clue.
What you recognize is a mask
that will be passed on.
The agony of death
I will bear alone.

The Ecstasy Of Pain

Two eyes awake in pain,
Beads of tears dead.
Dreams lie quiet, afraid, still.

Lips twisted in a smile,
Dry flaky lips,
They don't understand,
They can only feel.

A whisper echoes
In deep well of solitude,
Where despair sprouts up,
Roots of hope can never reach.

I pick up my paint-brush,
A crimson dot on blue canvas;
Colors reflect dimly.
Clouds wander, homeless,
They don't rain now,
They just wander.

The load of pain
Seems too heavy.
I burn them to ashes,
And burry in the ground.

I kick the earth,
Wounds open up again.
Ah! The ecstasy of pain,
I bleed, I walk.

Two poems from euphoria and despair

You can't understand all emotions, can you?

1.WE WILL MEET AGAIN..

We will meet again
After a long time perhaps
But for just one moment
We will meet for sure.

We will sit together
No words, no talks
No past to hold to,
No future to hope for,
Just that one moment...
That solitary moment;

Looking into each other's eyes
Not with the love
That brought us so close;
Not with the differences
That tore us apart;
Clear as dewdrops
Pure as morning light,
Just that one steady gaze
The only regard of the only moment;

You will know you
And I will find me,
You will have me
I will have you,
We will smile softly
At our foolish ignorance
That lasted so long;

That one moment will be
The only life of this life.


2.You or I?

You call me in the nights,
knowing that i fear darkness
and loneliness
my only loyal companions;

I answer your phone in deep slumber,
"i love you" is all i say,
all i have ever said,
all i can ever manage to say.
And you hang the phone i fall asleep.

"Insensitive", you may call me
but i have grown numb,
it has been my life....

I wake up with
streaks of dried tears on my face.
Unable to remember
who cried last night
YOU or I?

Two Short Poems

Two short poems on entirely differnt themes,

1. A Mystic Dream

With virginity of
a dew drop,

Lure of
A distant horizon,

Hope of
A long summer night,

Warmth of
A winter sun,

Blessings of
An awaited rain,

I painted a dream
On a lonely moon...
And found You.

2. I Live In You

My love dwells in your heart
Like a baby in the womb
Of surrogate mother,

Unwanted, perhaps not cherished
Yet nurtured with great care,

Arising emotions conflicting,
Yet so tender;
I live in you.