Creative Nuisance

Musings From My Soul

Archive for the ‘Spiritual’ Category

Devil’s Casino

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Devil's Casino

Remember the wish in The Angel Song
The gifted wish I haven’t used all along,
Shielded from the tempestuous calm,
For wounds aching, as magic balm.

But, words fly quick and high,
Reached  the  Satan  in  a  sly,
He came down heavy on my door,
To snatch away the wish I bore.

Cornering me in my room alone,
He thundered for the wish I own.
Felt weak, but won’t bend my knees,
I, on empty roars such as these.

Meekness evident in His deadly vice,
He challenged me to a game of dice.
The aces, deuces and cinques clashed,
Blood and pride waiting to be smashed.

As the gruelling  feud  raged on forth,
I, tired, bloodied; but all that’s worth!
It’s  pride in my wish –  that’s to  prove
I knocked Him down in the final move.

Drained, void, slumped on the floor thud,
I, passed out soaked in sweat and blood,
-But I won! Oh! Of that I am sure-
as I embraced the wish pure.

Written by Abhishek

August 26, 2010 at 7:03 PM

Rebirth of a Rebel

with 8 comments

The rebel and his army

He looked down onto the wet earth,
The  ashes  still  warm on  the  pyre,
A  glance  with neglect   and  dearth
At his rebel ideas  razing in the  fire.

As   numbness   bloated  the   hollow  fog
And vapours condensed on glasses moist,
He’s  proud   for  that   mighty   prologue
And  of the fearless  opinions  he  voiced.

– Each one of us has two lives – one where we live and the other where our ideas live. Most of us are not passionate enough to contribute significantly to the second part. The Rebel lives on, dormant in each one of us, without ever realizing its power to put forth new ideas and inspiration for the next generation.

– This poem is a toast to all those Bloggers and Activists who are voicing their opinions and trying to educate the masses.

He looked down onto the wet earth,

The  ashes  still  warm  on  the  pyre,

A  glance  with neglect   and  dearth

At his rebel ideas  razing in the  fire.

As   numbness  bloated  the   hollow  fog

And vapours condensed on glasses moist,

He’s   proud   for  that   mighty   prologue

And  of the fearless  opinions  he  voiced.

Written by Abhishek

August 16, 2010 at 7:16 PM

The Angel Song

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The Angel Song

I met a lost angel this night,
In the lonely woods, in plight.
Mending  her  broken  wings,
With  rugged  magic  strings.

“Can  you  help  me  out?” –
Her moist eyes in doubt,
-“will  grant  you  a  wish.”
Hands trembling in anguish.

“There,  they all  wait  for  me,
Bleeding  Souls in  teary  sea.
Those wounded soldiers there
With  nothing but  faith bare.”

How could I refuse!
An  angel  in  blues.
But I know not how,
How to fulfil this vow!

With a soft look into my eyes,
She read through the naked disguise
And  said “All I need  is a  drop  of  tear
To drag me out of this gnawing despair.”

Little  startling,  little  high
A little request I can’t deny.
So I squeezed out a bitter drop
A sacrifice for the little Aesop.

Happy again, she vanished in starry glow,
Rousing  up the fallen leaves with a  blow.
*
The wish, still, I have not put to use,
But  those  tears I started  still  ooze.

Written by Abhishek

August 12, 2010 at 6:40 PM

The Prestige

with 13 comments

The Prestige

As I look into the mirror,
and face myself,
I can feel the
stiffness
creep
in.
As I wear the clothes,
and don the image
I can feel the
tautness
grip
me,
For I have waited for this day,
to be heard, and
applauded by
you
all,
I have pulled myself up for sure,
and as I walk across
the stage, I can
feel a million
eyes on
me,
‘Coz there are those silky traps
That prestige lure,
but this day, I will
prove myself
for sure.

– Inspired by Christopher Nolan’s “The Prestige”.

Written by Abhishek

August 6, 2010 at 7:06 PM

The Closing Bell

with 7 comments

The mind gazed at the sky,
Both barren, blue and dry,
Not even a cloud out high,
Or a thought crossing by.

Been through such a time?
Eerily silent as a broken chime,
And the night in her hours prime
Weaving magic with her acts mime.

Just when the prologue was ’bout to end,
And the purity was ’bout to transcend,
A gust of wind had the feathers ruffled,
And, the act was enveloped in noises muffled.

The rough winds hissed in from the north,
And    dragged     strange     fears    forth
Like men concealed in the Trojan horse,
Unlocked the gates for emotions coarse

The soul wedged in the night yelled.
I,  like  a  stunned  soldier,  beheld
The rummage began taking its toll
As despair massacred the timid soul

With  the  epilogue  still  to  play,
And the actress distraught in the fray,
The waning moon escorted her through,
As she hid her face,  her discoloured hue.

*

The war was done.
I know not who won,
Who seized the stage
Emptiness or rage.

Written by Abhishek

July 31, 2010 at 8:41 AM

Feeling the Rain. Still.

with 6 comments

Standing on the edge of the cliff.
As I stared at the far off horizon, I could
Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,
And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

All of a sudden, it started to pour.
Leisurely, and then gained pace,
I stood there, drenched in the rain,
Not willing to go, feeling inane.

The evening gradually rolled in,
Wrapping the earth in its gloomy veil.
I stood there, absorbing the last few rays
Piercing through the long drawn haze.

And I lay down on the ground,
Soaking my soul in the numbing sounds,
I lay there, with my awakened sense of touch.
Never have I enjoyed the shower so much.

Know not when I fell asleep
Know not when the morning broke
I woke up, with the sun staring at my face,
Shining vigorously with all its grace.

As I stood up, my dress dripping wet,
And turned to go back to my place, I could
Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,
And feel the fleeting winds zip by.


– A night dedicated to the rain Gods

Standing on the edge of the cliff.

As I stared at the far off horizon, I could

Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,

And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

All of a sudden, it started to pour.

Leisurely, and then gained pace,

I stood there, drenched in the rain,

Not willing to go, feeling inane.

The evening gradually rolled in,

Wrapping the earth in its gloomy veil.

I stood there, absorbing the last few rays

Piercing through the long drawn haze.

And I lay down on the ground,

Soaking my soul in the numbing sounds,

I lay there, with my awakened sense of touch.

Never have I enjoyed the shower so much.

Know not when I fell asleep

Know not when the day broke

I woke up, with the sun staring at my face,

Shining vigorously with all its grace.

As I stood up, my dress dripping wet,

And turned to go back to my place, I could

Feel the clouds lurking somewhere in the sky,

And feel the fleeting winds zip by.

Written by Abhishek

July 25, 2010 at 12:55 PM

Posted in Pictoral, Poem, Spiritual

Tagged with , , , , , ,

A Moment For Them

with 5 comments

Sweating, he toils in the sand,
Digging as hard as he can,
Have we looked at his worn-out hand?
Or, his jaded feet, did we scan?

The sun is up and rough,
But, without a word, he digs on,
What has made him so tough?
Or, what inner strength does he don?

Not much of age, maybe ten,
Sure, he is not digging for gold.
What is he looking for then?
Or, … has he just been sold!

As his master gives him a stare,
He digs on, fearful of a bash,
Is it out of his master’s scare?
Or, because of the day-end cash?

Slowly, the light gets dim,
And as the evening settles down,
He returns to his hut grim,
But happy that he fetched his crown.

As he places the earned pay
in his mother’s hand, he smiled,
For him, a nonchalant end to another day!
For us: “Who cares if he’s still a child!

Written by Abhishek

July 18, 2010 at 11:32 AM

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