Spontaneity

Sometimes
It's too much.

Legs given up,
Mind suspended.
Ache in the heart.
And crazy intestine.

Shutting your own-self
From yourself.
You just lie dead
On your empty mind.

Yet, a thought,
Pokes out of
Your rigid walls.
Fires-up itself,
Takes a ride with
The crazy wind.

Soaks in night,
Grows wings to fly high.
Basks in the starlight
And when it's back-

Walls down,
Infected with a verse,
You're all filled up.

Really!
Too much for a day.

We'll Make It

I wish, I could
Walk down the
Aisle of your mind,
And hug the
Little bunny
You've Been hiding.

Just to reassure her,
That everything is alright
And say, 'we'll make it'
No matter what.

I wish it could have
Been easier. Like-

Buy her an ice cream.
Make her comfortable.
Then pat on her back
And make her sleep on
My shoulder.

Just to give her
Some warmth she needs.
To make it through
The cold and lonely.

Even if it is for only
One night.

To the Future Me

I've locked you
In a metaphor and
Have hidden it in
An old diary.

If you're ever lost,
Come, find it.
See what it felt like
To be yourself.

Speak Up

Speak up, you moron.
Speak.
Your words-

Let them poke,
Leave a stroke.
Hang upside
Down.. till some
Egos choke.

Let them touch,
Let them caress.
Let them leave a scar,
Rejoice a memory..

Let them,
Fall in an argument.
To put up a fight.
Duel with tongues,
To see some
Bleeding gums.

Let broken teeth
Be their abode
For a while.
Dirty mouths give them
A taste of the world
That's flawed.

Stop whining
All the time.
Lift those walls,
Grow some balls,
Be a man!

Let the words
Crawling in your
Veins burst open
To write a revolution.

The insights hitting
Roof of your brain
Start another phase
Of evolution.

Throw down

Your walls.

Hold on your ground.

Speak up

To hurt tonight.

Speak up...

To love.

I'm a Life

I'm good. I'm bad.
Between the
White and black.
I'm a shady
Recline.

I'm not a
Quantifiable piece
Of meat bag.

I'm love. I'm pain.
I'm melancholia.
A rainbow.
A celebration,

Also, a pitch memory
Of darkness.

I'm dark strokes
On the canvas.
Also the mess in
The palette.

More often,
The discarded scribble
On the paper, than
The well-aligned
Parts of my verses.

I'm a story that
Made love under
The fan and
Hung itself to death
Later that night.

I'm this, I'm that.
Beneath, under,
After, before.
I'm a boundless
Beyond.

And sir, or madam.
If you think.
You've understood me,
Then, congratulations.

You've just become
An artist.

Masterpiece

Somewhere. Somehow.
There's a story that
Wants to be found.

A poem that wants
To fall suitably,
Into your words.

A painting,
That's awaiting to
Fit into your shades.

And no matter,
How stupid; how boring.
In all your subtleties-

You; in yourself are 
A piece of work.
Yet, unveiled, unfolded.

Ire

And judgements
Were thrown.
Pride was targeted.

Knives of words,
Hammers of taunts,
Thorns of smirks.
I've contained
Them all.

Having kept in
Mind everything,
Poised behind a
Drop of tear,
My rage awaits;
Simmering.

Don't misread,
My expressions.
Until I can
Actually smile.
You wretches deserve,
The one I've carved.

Tribute to the 'Holy Word'

It's noun, an adjective,
A verb many a times.

One word-
Innumerable expressions.
A silver bullet to
Move past the troubles.

It has stood by us
During betrayal,
We've embraced it,
To get past our ex.

We. You and I.
Have used it on others,
So have others on us.
Sometimes,
On ourselves over a fuss.

It ain't a superlative,
Yet when prefixed or suffixed,
Gives intensity to
Any expression. Any feeling.

Through it, we do vent our ire,
Also exclaim our happiness.

For decades, it has
Outlived other mighty words,
Other are learnt and forgotten,
This one lingers.

It's versatile usage
Can't be a sheer luck,
The word worth
This praise is 'fuck'.

The Dry Tree

Amidst hub of green trees,
By the side wall,
A dry tree stood.
All the leaves of hope lost,
Stretching it's withered limbs,
Against the taunt of other
Green blooming trees,
It stood firm and sturdy.

Though withering, it's desperate.
Lone but resolute,
Battered but still resilient.
Amidst hate, patiently,
It was raising above hate.
This evening it held me,
May be because,
While I was finding myself in it,
I was learning something, from
This dry tree, that is hiding its roar
And standing docile.

-Jatri

"Flying Together"

Giving someone a hug,
When you yourself need it,
Can be a most courageous moment of your life.

Being the reason for a smile on someone's face,
When your own smile is lost,
Can be a greatest ethic you posses.

Comforting someone,
When you yourself are frustrated,
Can be a greatest venture you can ever do.

And sharing your time with someone,
Even when you're too busy to look back,
Can be a biggest favour you can do to someone.

Because, Life is not a competition,
Neither we're competitors.
It's a journey and we're Pilgrims.

(Thanks to my junior. A SMS sent by her is impetus for this poem.)

Being Positive

When you're down,
When dark clouds of bad luck take over you,
When all your plans remain only as plans,
Try to smile.
Not to show that you dont have problems.
But, to show, you have confidence to crush them.

When a man seems argumentative,
When his words seem assaultive,
When you're irritated by that.
Before it turns into a fight, you give it up.
Not to admit your weakness.
But, to show you're more civilised.

When you're bored with your routine,
When you feel like celebrating,
Dance in rain even though you're bad at it,
Sing out loudly even if that irritates other.
Don't give up because others laugh at you,
But, do that to miss not such ecstatic moments.

When you're near the peak you destined,
When all  your crew is exhausted completely,
When even you can't pace further,
Get up and give a call to your boys.
Not to show your superiority.
But, to fill courage, to rejoice at such heights.

When you're hit by a worst cancer,
When death is at your door step,
When you're about to die,
Long to live desperately.
Not to show your desire to celebrate your centenary.
But, to inspire others, to not give up even at worst times.