Poems on "Emotions"

Life of a Struggler

a poem by

Subhadeep .

Never I was bad in academic,
My boards were too fantastic.
Destiny changed, in a college I took admission,
Then Lady Luck threw me into worst condition.

Long ago, I graduated and my struggle days started,
Gradually, I am getting more broken-hearted,
Wandered hither and thither, knocked every door,
Achieved failure which I never expected before.

Many ridiculed, as my career almost ruined,
Some friends went away as the blowing wind.
Dad supported as well as my mom,
Someone held my hands in that fiery storm.

I am frustrated rather than sad,
Frankly speaking, my condition is very bad.
Acquaintance thinks I am suffering deeply from alcoholism,
But my mind is full of various negativism.

Hope one day all these tensions will go,
Like a cold wind over my hair, it will blow.
To achieve my dreams, still I have to strive,
Pray to God, till then I remain alive.

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The Ladder

a poem by

Sathya N K

Thy came into being like any other,
I knew not, what I would become years later.

Grew with lots of sunshine, wind and water,
Cheerfully, swaying with glowing stature.

Day came, when we were slaughtered,
And was tied and pushed and pulled there after.

Became pieces and nailed to fixed together,
And there upon treading started one after another

Was treated with utmost attention when engaged, by the climber
And was carted upon the task got over.

Yet, I remain at peace contented, as I have enabled many to scale up ward further
And that has brought a meaning and purpose to my life holder!

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I don’t want to be Holy

a poem by

Annapurna Krishjeev

I am not hurt when people killed me to eat me
For I am always known to have offered myself
For the sake of the one who loves me.
For the sake of the one who needs me.

Didn’t you hear that story well known?
When I and my child offered ourselves as feast
To the mighty tiger, who let us both be on our own.
For, we could even melt the heart of that beast.

I am not meek. I am very strong.
If you think you are protecting me, you are wrong.
How else did I go back to the tiger to keep my promise?
How else did my child came after me to prove suffice?

My milk is for my child, but you drink it all.
I never complained, but always heed tall
To the needs of your children who are like my calf.
I am an animal and not human, not even a half.

When I die of hunger and thirst
To save me you are not keen
When I eat garbage and dirt
You are nowhere to be seen

But now, you are killing someone in my name.
You are murdering someone for your fame.
If I were ever holy, my holiness is stained.
Today I am not only hurt, but also ashamed.

If I am causing the death of so many innocents
If I am inspiring you to murder your fellow beings
How can I still remain holy?
How are you still my devotee?

Don’t make me a pawn of the games of politics.
Don’t parade with my head in public
Don’t put me on your profile pics.
Don’t exhibit my meat, have a sense of civic

I still have my animal instincts.
And an animal heart that I never forget.
The innocents, the ignorants,
And the wretched make my eyes wet.

Just leave me alone.
Let me remain what I am.
I don’t want to be holy
I don’t want any devotee.

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Dark secrets

a poem by

Aliza Fatima Naqvi

There is so much to tell
I can’t describe it all
Bit at least I can make clear
The worst of all
I have been through a lot
My heart says end it all
But my soul says there’s always another dawn
Again, I am standing here alone
Thinking about then and now
Maybe I should let it go
Or maybe I should run
I am tired of it all
I am tired of every feeling
I don’t want to feel anymore
Want to lay down silent forever
See through the two worlds
My voice is unheard
My heart bleeds on this scene
I am hushed by the hypocrites
I don’t have to say more
Or maybe I can’t describe

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Thinking of you

a poem by

Anushka .

Standing there I was thinking of ease.
Thinking of the moment when you came like a breeze.
It wasn’t easy to make you apart,
Its just all about the time that starts.
Even if the world go blue,
To forget you, that can’t be true.
Its just about the time that passes away,
And for us it behaves like a wave.

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Baby Steps

a poem by

Abhinav Singh Rawat

My legs still resist the flow of the time
Along with the continuous expansion of the universe
The distance between us keeps increasing as I write,
Even if all we manage is to hold on to our places.

You are too far to simply reach out and grab
And the silence though is merciless in handing out the verdict
Good for nothing optimism is willing to surrender the driving wheel
The debate now who’ll drive is between realities;
actual and perceived

My hands, they now blabber
thousand things in thousand places.
Many a time just random fancy show-off pieces.
Mostly, the aftermath of sleepless nights till 3 A.M.,
it’s manifestations.

Your self-proclaimed consciously awkward smile;
played, paused, put on repeat.
The anchored bonds placed on your wrist,
If only my footings could have been so deep.

I wish to see the starry sky, with the naked eye, on a brazen land
Or maybe a jumpy cute black dog, resting along the beach shoreline
If nothing else, then pay a visit to the other world in the books you read
Our galaxies may now be light-years away,
as long as I could feel you around me.

I take the baby steps against the flow of time, the rapid expansion
It makes no sense in the real world, I know.
I’ll be a dying star, bright white light, fading with the distance.

I am invisible now, I get that, I had it coming, I won’t complain.
But if you ever cast a look towards this end
of the universe, I’ll try to make sure
You catch the glimpse of the baby steps, towards you.
In the sands of the time, across space.

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Feeling the feelings!

a poem by

Abhay Kumar

You can weep on your pain,
but you can’t laugh on other’s pain.
You can cry on lost net connection,
but you can’t mock who lost vision.
You can complain huge pain in your father’s knees,
but to whom he will complain who has
neither father nor knees?
You can be frustrated by lost promotion,
But who will listen to whom who lost job?
You can feel sick that you have only daughters
not son,
what about whom who have no child?
You get angry that your child not eating meal
despite so much options,
how will they bear who have no meal and no option.
We may get penniless in the last days of month,
but will you stop scorning them
who are penniless whole month.
This is enough,
Long will be boating,
As I am not also Innocent.

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Free

a poem by

Zainab

Tik tok it moves and 12:00 AM it shows,
Midnight it was, and I was awake of course.
The curtains on the window, filters the moonlight,
Which falls on my bed, hugging me tight.
I was lying on my bed, dreaming a dream,
Okay! My life is alright as it seems.
Days pass on, so does the years,
And the vision of my life was clear.
I had a dream, a dream that came true,
To achieve something that I desperately wanted to.
I was lying on my bed, looking out at stars,
They twinkle all night as if they heal my scars.
Yes, the days passed on, so does the years,
Now, it’s a smile that I wear.
Life was never what I wanted it to be,
But today, I am glad to say that,
Yes! Finally I AM FREE.

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The Burn Marks!

a poem by

Bikash Bhandary Chetry

The burn marks;
Of hardwork and honesty,
Of passion and prejudice,

The burn marks;
Of determination and dreams,
Of struggle and subjugation,

The burn marks;
Of opportunities and oppression,
Of waiting and wars,

The burn marks;
Of commitment and coercion,
Of courage and complaints,

The burn marks;
Of capitalism and competition,
Of governance and goondaism,

The burn marks,
The burn marks…
Testimony of truth!!!

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Throbbing Heart, Eager Ears

a poem by

Suhas Chavan

I will love to sit
In that dim lit corner
Again
Bending forth, the rain as symphony,
Rata-ta-ta-ta-ra-ta-ta-ta
To feel the strain of the fading
Violin
To heed that sax – a Shadow among Shadows
An empty hall;
That will remind me of You,
Of our times spent; Of Moments lived,
Each an encapsulated world; a wonderful story,
Moments, yes, Moments,
Just those that you wouldn’t scatter,
And yet, those that you did,
But I could never gather!
Now I ask myself
When, when must this end?
The sound, this crowd,
This stupid preening
The convincing of self,
Grey hair, dry lips,
The pout of a potbelly
Now when will this all end
When I remember you,
Myself
Our days of yore?

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The Paper Within

a poem by

Sharmishtha .

I carry a Paper within.
Written over and over; it speaks,
It echoes words; I dread.
Erased over and over; it withers.
The mutilated Paper carries wounds,
And every Light pierces through the wounds.

How much this Paper shall carry?
My Shame, the failings, the valour and my turbulences.
I once rooted it out.
And buried in the Cold Snow; it simmered.
To find myself; I dug it out;
The withered words remained, yet.

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Do they know that we love them?

a poem by

Arunava Borah

Why is it that the people we love the most,
never really know that we love them the most?
There’s not even a bit of flattery or exaggeration that I’m saying this. Period.
You’re not the sum of all the moments that we have lived or
the number of stretch marks on my skin.

You’re much more than it.
You’re a lot of things.
You’re kinda like the map to my home
which I so desperate want to get to after a tiresome day full of work
just because I know I’ll be all secure and safe.
I’ll have a good rest and I’ll be all cheerful and happy being inside it.
You’re probably, undoubtedly much more precious than my faded denims.
Because, that’s the only piece of clothe I’m most comfortable with.

You’re my confidante, my disparity,
Someone more than just a friend but not an enemy.
My poem, my song,
My favorite cup of cold coffee, all bitter and warm.
Not the number of unread messages, not the silly write-ups that has been ignored.
That favorite human with the most seductive smell,
And that suffocating panda hug, which is the most loveliest of all.
The screenshots that I usually read twice a day,
and those numerous photos that makes my phone’s screen slobbed with truckloads of kisses.
You’re a favorite thought and a comforting place like home.

Boundlessly fascinating.
Unconventional yet, charming.
There’s some kind of joy in leaving or maybe, in the thought of leaving.
What urges people to leave so much?
Maybe because, we get tired of loving the same person for too long, and too much.
Or is it because, the heart is unable to take the ignorance we seek to keep at bay?
Ignorance was never an option yet, love wins everything over.
You’re smart and basically, all good things.
You’re someone, I don’t have to paraphrase my thoughts to.
You’re my type of familiarity and comfort, in a world of strange faces and fragile egos.
Sometimes it’s too late to mend things up
but thank you for making me believe that it’s never too late to start over again
and making sure that I’m okay.

You define and undefine and redefine every human relation that is ever possible to exchange love.
You’re about all those little pamper and stuff with abundance of love.
People change but remains the same, simultaneously.
I love you, without any punctuation.
Some less arguments and more love, please?
But then, where do you find the love in leaving?!
They say the mind is something that wanders.
Yet the same way, the heart is easily deceived and knows nothing at all.
The home is where the heart is.
Here and now, I hope you’re one keeps beating.

Splendid and joyous what it was til the very time.
A streak of hope is what keeps a trail of the lost camaraderie.
Don’t look much for the beauty in the misery,
Death is peaceful, serene. But dying, isn’t!
With all that is said and done,
I hope you find peace within.
Much of what is left and unexpressed,
I hope you get to know that,
you’re someone’s most favorite thing,
you’re loved the most, remember it.

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Emptiness – Random Thought

a poem by

Karishma Sharma

Within the four walls I live.
My sorrows, my joys, my cheer here all I share I grief.
Sometimes pain I need to belief-
Sometimes fact I need to forsake or leave.
Within the four walls I live.

Colours I may like many but-
I always find me lonely,
Distracted I am to the darker shade.
Likes are disappearing and happiness seems to fade.
Give me some space I need to breathe!
Give me some space I need to breathe!

Companion I yearn…
In short span of life I have learned
Forbidden is love–
To forsake is tough!
Life, not a bed of roses,
Options are few, rare are the choices.
Agony within, frustrated thousand voices!
I am growing sick I want peace-
Within the four walls I live.

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Kingdom and Traitors

a poem by

Shivang Sharma

A kingdom of treasure,
Threatened by traitors
The traitors, who have no faith
The traitors who love to hate
The traitors who sell the spool
Of humanity, to the fool

The ones you believed in will keep you safe
The ones who’ll be your ears, if you go deaf
They’ll be the ones who’ll make you see
The world of peace, for thee
And when your garden won’t flourish,
They’ll be your gardener… You wish

Hoping that the land will receive springs,
The buds will bloom, sparrows get wings
Welkin will cry, felicitous
Crafting the blossoms from the fetus
Imagining you’ll be, desiring to harvest
The progenies, at their best

But what if your blessings go rust
Your blossoms palm off with dust
The ones you believed in
Turn nothing more than a din

For you, that feeling was obsess
And every effort for them was so less
Thou worked for them like a servant
But de facto, they were the serpent
With serpentine heart and brain
They threw your emotions down the drain

Thy mind’s eye was covered with a cloth,
Of service and respect, both
And you could never remove the bars
That caused you to fall in the mirage

But it wasn’t your mistake,
They were the ones, who were fake
They broke your in-frangible trust
For their bush-league lust
Their nasty deeds reached heights
Indulged trust and lust into fights

Helpless, hopeless, heal-less, thou were
But flames in eyes com-mixed with tear
Oh my lord, we are cheated
But the sound remained seated
Under the boots of the traitors,
Crushed to silence, oftentimes

Blessings got hexed, by the witch of falsity,
Trusts back stabbed, by the slayer of verity
But one fine day, the anger found a path,
The dark roads lightened by the wrath
United by the divine, led by the angel
The arms of humans, raised against the devil

Devil, hands-down, laughed against the roar
Angel, with the host, strengthened it more
Left devil self-doubting, devitalized
And the traitors went surprised
The ones whom they thought weak,
Foolish, disunited and meek

Broke the gates, burnt the farms with hustle
Slew the army, demolished the castle
Traitors got frightened, how to escape
Searched the path backdoor for their sake
Flames all around, armors flying
Vultures feeding, women crying

Angel with the chakra, appeared before each traitor
Slicing each head, spawning clatter
Host joyed, tears separating from eye
Contentment floating in the sky…

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29 Nov 2016 The day Nagrota Bled

a poem by

Tvishaa .

Nagrota station is as beautiful as one can imagine,
the varied birds seen here are the source of attraction.
But alas, this divine scenery has turned into a dreadful ornery.
A place where the cuckoo bird sang a melodious song,
but now the crow caws a grief stricken song.
Flowers wilted after seeing the rain of pain,
birds gave up singing songs in disdain.
The encounter that changed many lives,
the whole day all we could was wait and sigh.
29th November was the worst day for the entire Nagrota station,
when the family members of the soldiers panicked with tension.
Our soldiers were so selfless, so brave,
for hundreds of families they saved.
But not all endings are a happy one,
Many lost their Father and Sons,
whom they hadn’t seen for months.
The pain could only be conveyed through tears,
what turn now life would take, they feared.
Soldiers defend their country and protect their motherland
because they don’t want other country ruling their land.
You take out faults in them,
But you don’t realize you won’t be here without them.
For how long will the soldiers keep their lives on stake for our sake,
Stop this bloodshed before it’s too late.

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