Asylum

Asylum

A bordered world

Patrolled by armed men

Radars, fighter planes, and ships

Seeking the blood of perceived enemies

Yet some of them breach the borders to bomb

Imaginary or futuristic threats away from the shores

Taking innocent lives for no fault of theirs, but for greed

Dismantling the lives of millions in their own homelands

By making them refugees at the mercy of neighbors

Brave hearts risk their lives and march with a hope

Through tough terrains battling adverse weathers

Militants, Traffickers, rogue patrols and open sea  

Holding breath against death at times of trouble

To reach a faraway safe land to start lives again 

Seeking asylum away from shattered homeland

To live, work, and save every penny they can    

To build a nest of safe future for themselves

And for uplifting lives of the loved ones left behind

With a wish for reunion someday in the new shore 

Images courtesy: Rightful creators 

This poem is a part of A2Z series of poems 

A summer day at Newport

The 3 am early sunrise

River birds act as alarm clock

Day grows longer living its dream

Summer sunshine a treasure in a cold land

Glitters the souls that seek the fun of holidays

Hangouts with friends at the Newport city centre

Watching the buzz of crowd like curious kids

Listening to the street musicians soul tunes

The squirrels of the Belle Vue Park

Wander around the trees and greens

With no fear to the visitors

To find the it’s favorite nuts

Their acts reminds puppet shows

Amusing the kids who play around

Try to catch them out of curiosity

The grand oldies warm up with bowling

On the greens up the hill

Life froze when I sat on the bench

And gazed at the floral arrangement at the square

As the dawn refused to grace the lives

My wait for the stars and the night beauty of river usk

Led me to the walkway along the river

An old man taught me to pluck the chestnuts

From the chestnut tree near the sitting area

When I sit in company of the river

Dreams flew like the breeze from the river

And I walk back to the harrow road

When the lights on the footbridge spruce to life 

Images courtesy : Google images and rightful creators 

Rivalry

“Life is too short,

 It’s easy to hide in the cellars of revenge,

Raring to bruise with armors to spit fire

And spill the soil with blood of the fallen

 it’s easy to avoid the flags raised for peace,

 Today, you have the right, as you are hurt

Tomorrow, who knows,

The very thought of agony may be worthless,

When the very enemy you fight within

Stop existing in this world

That will be your time,your success

Victorious moments for your pride

You enjoy it, until you lose the adrenaline

Your enemy may go bust towards eternity,

Miles away from your vision,

Miles away from your silence and roars

 Forever,

And you may never get to see again,

Then the rivalry, the agony, the feeling of revenge,

 It will all become vogue,

 Like a pile of damaged currency notes,

with no value to serve anyone

With the conquered patches of parched territories

laying bare to tell the tales of sorrow

You can rest for a while

Until another ruthless mercenary rise

To challenge you to the brink "

Images : Thanks to rightful creators 

Promised land

We live in a world with manipulated justice

Ruled by dictators, with brute force

Groomed by greedy power mongers to vote

With manifestos written in golden lies

We know what we will get in return

Corruption, exploitation, and stagnation

Yet, we remain silent robots, with all anger

But,in a spring of change, some daredevils uprooted 

The corroded corridors of power with a wish for freedom 

We have a modern, but muted League of Nations

That remains blind when bombs dismantle civilizations

And dumb, when people cry loud for help and justice

Defenders of democracy, created new colonies

After massacring innocent societies to gift freedom

They installed puppet authorities to auction the resources

To the ever greedy behemoth corporations of Wild West

They sell arms to neighbors, and foes within

They reap profits while their bullets and shells splash blood

Millions ran for their lives, to find a promised land for refuge

To lead a peaceful life, with assurance of waking up alive

But they are the unwanted burden for the economies of benefits

People risks drowning in depths of chilly seas

Evades the scorching heat of the deserts

Thorn filled paths of unknown terrains

To engage in a proxy battle with eagles waiting to nab

To prevent the souls from entering promised land

This is the fate of refugees, asylum seekers, or illegal migrants

Lucky if they make it to the safe shore

Phasing through the camps of  asylum 

If not, await deportation back to the world of despair

If there is peace, no one will leave the paradise

When you can’t give them the peace and safety

While creating dilapidated hells for them afar

Exploiting their resources in front of their eyes

Without giving prosperity or hope

People will keep flocking the borders

I wonder, how these modern nero’s play fiddle

With utmost peace  

While the war games they played

Comes back to haunt them in flocks

Stretching the limits of their own economies 

Images: Thanks to rightful creators 

Project Management

Project

A lifeline of a company to earn big bucks

Mining through the risks and unknown challenges

Team

A cluster of strangers and foes

Competing and striving to excel at same time

Managers

A robotic army powered by bosses

To yell at teams to meet deadlines at any cost

Allocation

A utopian distribution system

For assigning resources  for different tasks

Review

A must have checkups to track and cure    

The progress all along the network path of projects

 Deadline

It’s always a daunting task

When you try to make up for the lost time

Regrets

No face value for it

Once you wasted your chance

Stress

A Painful thrill to live through,

Amidst busy fixing one hitch up after another

Time

A luxury to even dream

As every second has its price, with no returns

Sleep

A mirage that keeps moving away 

While digging up turmoils under compulsion  to finish tasks 

Plan

A beautiful map to decorate the wall

When all tasks explode beyond all the controls

Strategy

Dangerous  ploys to play, on every phase

To fix or steady the plans against all the odds 

 Hope

A rope to wish for from nowhere

When every road seems to meet a dead end

Motivation

A sour grape that can energize minds

Urging them to conquer the unthinkable heights

Belief

An empty wallet in pocket

With magical powers to create miracles   

Help

A welcome gift from anyone

Anytime to sail the ship towards a safe shore

End

A podium to climb

To pour the champagne to celebrate the relief 

A poem dedicated to all sleepless , stressed individuals around the world, working hard and trying to meet the deadlines of projects!

Images Courtesy: Thanks to rightful creators!

Cross road

Standstill at a junction

Of present

Two directions

Two outcomes

One heading towards glories of past

Other heading towards oblivion of silence

Uncertainty rules

Choice is beyond me

I have to wait

Until the war clouds drizzle down

And clear the sky

Mistakes of past haunt me

Journey towards unknown beckon me

I’ve forgotten my own soul

I am searching for my old self

Lost somewhere in ocean of quarrels

Lost my goodwill on the mountain of agony

I tried to dig it down to find plain ground

Where I lost my identity

As I wish to be recognized again

And tear apart the tag of imposter

Perceptions built on first impressions

Now stands tall in front of my own shadows

I feel dwarfed by the weight of my own image

I razed scars with my words

Now I wish to heal them with compassion

I seek forgiveness

But my lost identity

Blocks my entry to old pathway

Hopelessly

I stare at the barren new path

As time ticks down

But I wish for a new path

For a new start

Straight from the past

Without the murmurs of discontent

Without the suspicion of another breakdown

With a belief of harmony

 Images courtesy :thanks to rightful creators!

Lost world of words

Evening is still young

Sun has not gone home yet

Even as the clouds try to cover

The sky with its massive blanket

Rays of light over shadows it

With tinge of silvery brightness

I am alone waiting for night

To see the stars again

To throw dreams

At them

As I lost my way

Somewhere

I want to ask

For guiding lights

To open up new paths

Towards a lost world

Of words where I weaved

The canvas of imagination

To paint my words

With unseen colors

And spread splashes of joy

To those who might read one day

 Images Courtesy: Thanks to rightful creators

Freedom

Today, I am having my liberty

After slicing down the vultures

Of worries that kept scaring me

When I looked back at my past

I found myself sneaking past

Worries by being coldblooded

With empty hands and mind

I can just walk in rain calmly

Enjoying a banter with the clouds!

Image: Thanks to rightful owner

Idyllic Path

This is my path

For my soul searching journey

Pristine stream without ripples

Standing still like a lively canvas

For the reflections of trees aside

I can see the hidden sky

Through the lenses of the morning fog

The reflections look like a green curtain

To shy away the sunshine

The stream in its silence

Tells the story of its love for its surrounding

As they embrace the solemn peace

The zig-zag path goes hidden

While immersing itself in the fog

I saw an abandoned tent

I feel I can rest for a while in it

While burning the logs around

For some heat

And, listen to the silence of nature

May be I can grab some peace

For my beleaguered heart

Confused and smitten by emptiness

Enduring the pain of a lost soul

I hope this path will take me there

Where I can see my lost soul again

In peace and warmth

Forgiving and realizing each other

Once again

Image courtesy: Magpie tales. Please visit magpietales98 to read other writers creations. Thanks.

Rainbow on River USK

A welsh winter morning

After an enlightened new-year

Gloomed with dark clouds

Groomed with silent rain

Chilled with wind from riverside

The festive mood was still in air

As the near empty roads suggested

I went for a walk with a friend

Gracing the lonely rain

Walking along the riverside

The usk river remained a slim beauty

Glazing its bare muddy curves

We turned around

A spectacle semi circled the river

Like a colorful hanging bridge

From the edge of its side

To the heights of a nearby tower

A rainbow sparkled

Like a portrait on cloudy canvas

As we snapped up its beauty

With our eyes

The sky opened its canvas

Tearing away the clouds

Making way for the sun to surface

It wished the dawn with a bright smile

While bidding adieu to the soul rain

As the glamour of sun flourished

The fantasy trail of rainbow diminished

With a silent goodbye! 

Image Courtsey: BBC

Helpless Moments

Some moments freezes as it is

Refuses to melt down

As if, it is an imprint to live with

The more I try to forget it

The more it haunts me

A deep regret within my soul

A plight I tried to avoid

I chased the time, to catch some air

Even the shortest distance from safety

Looked so distant, on a night slept in silence

But, my legs weren’t strong enough

In that night of misfortune

I prayed for all the luck

There was nothing left in my destiny

A hollow mind and a strangled heart

Kept me drowning,

While I tried to hold on to the hands of hope

I still ask myself, why I am so slow to react

When it matters the most!

I wonder why I forgot even the sense

To make a simple call , I panicked

As I saw the last breath gasping to the doom

Stood numb and signed that record

On final moment of your life

I still can’t forgive myself

For failing to save you, by a whisker

A few minutes,

I wished I could buy those moments

And give you a breather

While I saw

 You flying away from me forever

Leaving my hands

I still haven’t found my promised land

Without you, I am still wandering

Images: Courtsey dreamstime.com, flickrhivemind.net

New Year 2012

Just a change of guard

Like we move from yesterday to today

We leave behind bunch of memories

We leave behind the treasures of joy

We leave behind the trenches of losses

As the clock tick to the twelve

The fireworks mar the beautiful winter sky

With the smoke covering the glowing stars

A night is kept awake with loud music

With dancing floors sweating in its misery

Rather than the nectar, alcohol flows

Like rivers of ecstasy filling empty hearts

While those struggling, wish for a change

Hope for a new dawn and new path

Those who gave up hope plays down

It’s just another number, a routine

While the predecessors wonder in heavens

What is this mess?

This is just another month and another day

While April is the real New Year

Now it’s a fools new year

But how about those cultures

Where there are many new years

Depending upon on beliefs and harvests

Yeah, it’s just another day another year

A cycle to repeat to add to the history

This time that year that day

Get some sleep and wake up

It’s the same you

Even with all new resolutions

 Image: Courtesy discreet news! Visit thursday poets rally to read exciting creations of other poets. Thanks.

Dawn of retirement

They worked like machines through ages

To build their lives and future of their kids

Now, old to be dynamic,

Yet, for authorities, they are not old enough

To seek the leisure and peace of retirement

May be they are living in fool’s paradise

As politicians never retire until heaven calls them

 What will these hapless people do?

Alone in their final days

Nobody around to look after

Left to face the freeze in the winter

With no heat aids to support

No money for holidays

Pawns of hedging pension funds

Generations spoiled with benefits

Cut aside from the values of Victorian age

The system of looking after the old aged

All within the family

In the name of independence

Leaving home at early age

Leaving the burden on government

To look after an ageing population

Who is to blame?

The middle aged can’t even rest

As pensions mocks at their face

As a question mark over their future

With no choices to opt

Destined to work longer

In the name of higher life expectancy

Some of them can’t even see the dawn of retirement

Recession is a silly excuse

To cover the holes of faulty economic policies

There is money to support wars abroad

But, there is no money for the beleaguered

Now they can work more

With a dream about a dawn

Sitting in the couch, reading a paper

Going out with friends to the pub

To beach to feel the sunshine

Without the stress from bosses

Without the worry about paychecks

With pension, the mr. safeguard on side

Without depending on anyone else

But, that dawn of retirement is moving farther

Somebody has to stop it sooner!

 This poem is a form of support for those people who deserve early retirement!When the legs and hands become weak, we should let them rest and live the life without worries! Extending the retirement age is an escapism! Images: Thanks to respected copyright holders!

silence of the soul

Silence of the soul

Aftermath a long journey

Leaves behind countless questions

Unanswered

Yet, everyone ask beloved

What happened?

Without knowing what to say

To console them

To overcome the pain of irrecoverable loss

The tears of the loved ones

Raise questions towards heaven

Hoping that it will be heard

Why did you do it?

We all were here for you

We were part of your happiness

We celebrated it as ours

But when you had a sorrow

You thought, you were alone

Now, we are helpless

We have to survive through this life

With a regret that we couldn’t heal your sorrow

We wish, you had kept some moments

To share your problem with us

We would have found a solution

Now, we can only shower our love for you

With our prayers for you

Lost flowers

Flowers decorate our gardens

Alleys, abandoned lands

On the ten glorious days starting with Atham

It’s the jewel on the courtyards of our homes

I remember the buzz in the mornings

To pluck the mist filled flowers

To create floral layouts of joy

Striving to create something different

Every day, with whatever flowers available

I’ve seen kids visiting homes

Collecting flowers with exuberance

Now , they get it from market

Preserved flowers at exorbitant prices

Grown and cared just for us somewhere else

Far away from our culture and our lives

This makes me wonder!

Where did we bury our flowering plants?

To stop it from blooming in our little spaces

It takes a few minutes to water

But, its more easy to buy colorful flowers

These aren’t our flowers which decorated our lives

There are more residential associations than residents itself

Yet nobody got time to raise flowers for the kids

When they got time to organize all kind of silly events

Acres of farmlands are laying barren

Yet nobody wish to grow flowers for ourselves

We have outsourced that right to our neighboring states

Youth have time to squeeze money from people on streets

In the name of non-existent arts associations for onam celebrations

Yeah, they don’t have time to raise silly flowers bearing our culture

People have time to queue up infront of liquor outlets

They have creativity to create layouts with empty bottles of liquor

But, raising flowers is waste of time, as it gives fragrance

So fresh and exotic than the much priced rums, brandies, beers and more

We create new limca records for floral arrangements every year
To show how much we care about our onam
An event of glits and glamour for flowers for media 

But, I wish they could see use the colors and flowers of our lives

The big floral layouts on the street, sprouted by the active youth

It was part of our lives, now it’s on the wane

As salt filled , artificial colored layouts smiles at us

I wonder, even they have abandoned our flowers

When these tv channels shower our eyes with the floral extravaganza

Even they forgot our roots and our flowers

They can sell ads for showing prices of flowers

Just like, they do with any other sensational news

Government pays huge bills to organize events

To show the world our onam celebrations

But even they don’t realize we celebrate onam at the mercy of others

Our king is welcomed with dead flowers from afar

It speaks the language of another culture to him

What if he stops visiting us one day?

Disillusioned with his welcome!

Anybody care!

Sorry, we are busy, shopping flowers at trade fairs!

images: thanks to rightful owners!

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