Death is Perfect

A clear blue sky lacks definition,
A blank slate characterless,
Beware of the one without blemish,
Beneath the serene surface
Lurks the deepest secrets.
Enemies with flaws
Will learn to handle
Lily white friends,
Suspicion will poison minds.
Even the supreme ones
Of all faiths
Must have some failings
To create us mere mortals.
Strive for perfection,
Never perfect.
Death is perfect,
End of the road.
Useless. 

My mistress, till death do us part

Away, come away:

Empty your heart of its mortal dream.’ – W.B.Yeats

Seducing me at every step

From the moment of grand entrance

Alluring mistress are you

Promising to keep me company

Till death do us part

I fell into your trap many a times

Weak of mind in moments such

Seduction irresistible to come away with you

Dreams of afterlife, mysterious unknown beckoned

How must you be disappointed with my betrayal

But my sensuous mistress you did know

I have promised myself to someone else

To life, with all the sufferings and pain

I have promised my heart and soul

And when the time comes, as promised

I will leave this body to you

Till death do us part

My mistress

You are no mystery to me

I embrace you with open arms

Death, my eternal mistress

Let me go away on my terms


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Thirteen

 

WRITESPIRATION #121 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 25 – Death Personified

Sacha’s back with another of her #Writespiration prompts!

Your challenge is to write your story using the weekly theme/prompt and write it in just 52 words…. EXACTLY, no more, no less.

And the prompt this week…

Your story from the point of view of Death personified.

You have lost your hold on me
Once I befriended you
Embraced and welcomed you
With open arms
I am ready, but
Stop these mayhems
What purpose does it serve
Everyone will have to welcome you
One day or the other
When the time comes
Why make it harder
To love you

Image result for london tower fire photo

Photo : Google

Writerinspiration#121


I have written about death before.  Shortlink to couple of them here: “http://wp.me/p73yZZ-22C” , “http://wp.me/s73yZZ-storm”

Bunch of Faded Pictures Lost in Abyss of Memory পাহৰণিৰ গৰ্ভত হেৰাই যোৱা এমুঠি মলিন ছবি

I have been rather sporadic in posting to my blog for some time now.  It’s not writer’s ‘block that prevented me from writing. Rather it was some kind of strange mental fatigue. After sitting in front of the computer for 10 hours a day at work, do not have much stamina left to come and sit in front of the computer again at home.  I downloaded  Wordpress app recently to my mobile, but I am not much impressed with it.  I find it more difficult to write and post using the app in my mobile then using the website.  Wordpress website in my mobile was behaving funky for sometime now, not showing the comments.  Not sure what the issue is or if it is my issue only.  Not being able to use my mobile to post definitely put a dent on my regular posting.  Well, there is my excuse.

Wrote the poem below in my mother tongue, Assamese (Axomiya) couple of days back and translated to English today. Some feelings get lost in translation though. Here it is, in Assamese first followed by the English translation.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

পাহৰণিৰ গৰ্ভত হেৰাই যোৱা এমুঠি মলিন ছবি

দেৱাল খন বহুদিনৰ পৰাই উকা
ফটো বন্ধাই দেৱালত ওলোমাই থোৱাৰ
অভ্যাস নোহোৱা হল
আধুনিক যুগত নিমিষতে
সাত সাগৰ পাৰ হৈ
ফটো ভ্ৰাম্যভাসৰ ভিতৰত
কিন্তু স্মৃতি খন্তেকীয়া
আঙুলিৰ পৰশত মছি যায়
ক্ষণিকৰ অতিথি
এলবামৰ ভিতৰত মৰহি যোৱা
ফটো অস্পষ্ট
বয়সে আমনি কৰা চকুৱে
উকা বেৰত বিচাৰে
পাহৰণিৰ গৰ্ভত হেৰাই যোৱা
এমুঠি মলিন ছবি
মৃত্যুৰ হাতত পৰাজিত মানৱৰ
বৃথা সপোন চিৰন্জীৱী হোৱাৰ
অমৃতৰ সন্ধানত
অবিনাশী আত্মাৰ আবিস্কাৰ
অৱশ্যম্ভাৱীক মানি লোৱা কঠিন
দেৱালত ফটো ওলোমাই
স্মৃতি যুগমীয়া কৰাৰ
অলীক প্ৰচেষ্টা
মৃত্যুৰ শীতল হাতৰ পৰশত
চিৰনিদ্ৰা নহালৈকে
দেৱালখন উকা হৈ থকাই ভাল নেকি

Bunch of Faded Pictures Lost in Abyss of Memory

The wall is blank for ages now
Lost the habit of framing and hanging
Photographs on the wall
Modern technology brings
Instant attachments
From across the seven seas
To the mobile in my hand
Temporary memories
Short-lived guests are they
One gentle touch of the finger
Deletes
Photos in the old albums
Indistinct, weathered
Eyes, clouded by age
Search the blank walls for
A bunch of faded pictures
Lost in the abyss of memory
The living lost the battle with death
Long ago
Dreams of living forever shattered
Search for nectar of immortality
Futile,
Invented immortal soul
Hard for us to accept the inevitable
We try in vain
To make memories permanent
By hanging them on the walls
Till the cold hands of death
Send us to our eternal sleep
It may be for the better
For the walls to remain blank

Choice

Choice to have a slow death
Lingering pain slowly sucking away
My last breath
While you rejoice
At the beauty of your lying creation
Of giving  everybody a free choice
You made sure that giving me
A choice I neither asked nor wanted
You and your cronies
Living in an alternate universe
Will line your pockets with riches
While I count my days
Burdened by your fake choices

Weapons:Week Forty Six of My Fifty Two Weeks Journey with the Letter ” W”

Those who defends the freedom of possessing guns are fond of reminding people that guns don’t kill people, people do.  Really?  From mythological time to present, it is weapons that has been killing people.  In modern times, weapons are big business.  States are major players in selling arms and weapons.  Everywhere around the globe we can see the devastation and mayhems that’s been created by weapons.  Stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction  can wipe civilization as we know of few times over.  Just imagine if all the resources that are being spent on weapons would have been utilized on development programs, this world of ours would have been a paradise.  But because of proliferation of weapons, all around the globe we have warlike situations prevailing.

All throughout recorded history, wars fought in the name of religion resulted in deaths to millions.  Followers of religions that preach peace and love did not and do not hesitate to kill non believers in the name of religion.  If there would have been no weapons, we would not have seen such devastation.  All God’s creation have been given inherent weapons to defend and feed themselves but no weapons to kill unnecessarily.  We humans call ourselves to be God’s best creation.  God has not given us weapons to kill others.  Alas, we are given a brain that we misused to invent weapons to kill and dominate others.  If we really would have utilized our brains properly, we would have invented weapons to spread love and peace, not death and destruction.

It may be a wishful  thinking, but we can always hope.  Maybe one day we will see the light and will find mythological arrows of Cupid to spread universal love. With that hope in mind, on week forty six of my fifty two weeks journey with the letter “W”, I start my poem with the word “Weapons”.

Peace and love to all my dear readers in this season of joy.


This post is in response to Write Anything Wednesday-Dec-14-2016 sponsored by Writerish Ramblings

Choice of Poison

Do not hate life that much
To drink my poison in one gulp
Want to savor the taste coursing
Through my veins
Those hiding behind their masks
Of various shades of
Politics, religion or nationalities
Have reduced me to the level
Of animals
Depriving me of my choice of poison
Now death comes unannounced
At places most unexpected
Somebody, somewhere pushing a button
Rains death from the sky
Or death by some misguided
Blowing himself up
Spreading fear all around
Like animals looking over my shoulder
Death may be lurking just near
Give me back my choice of poison
I do not want to live a life of fear

Wildfire

Wildfire spreading with lightning speed
Instantly destroying everything on its path
Leaping ferociously from place to place
Dance of destruction, doom writ large
Fear in the hearts of the onlookers
Images of desperation and death all around
Reducing vibrant, verdant landscapes barren and black
Ending hopes and dreams of many it touched

Wildfire, are thou boon or bane of nature


Week 19 of My Fifty Two Weeks Journey with “W”

Write Anything Wednesday-June-8-2016

Wonder

Second poem starting with”W” in the series of fifty two weeks journey with “W”.

Wonder why we are here
What is the purpose of life
Where did we come from
Where will we go
Wonder if we are alone in this universe
Why are we destroying this world of ours
Wonder what will be our legacy to progenies
Worry only death, destruction, famine or wars
While we debate and throw science to the winds
World slowly marches towards cataclysm
Wonderful world of ours one day
Will certainly be in ruins
Woefully unprepared to face reality
We march on to our final annihilation
Wondering all the time
Will we be ready for rehabilitation
World of ours is a
Worthy cause to fight for
Wonder if we all get together
Winning the war against ignorance
Words of enlightenment spread far and wide
Will we be able to reverse the tide

Write Anything Wednesday