Playing a game in the squash court,
With rebounding emotions of the heart
As the soft ball, till it bleeds and withers
And the opponent decorating his lips with
A deceptive smile and the gait of a winner,
Walks away and you’re left alone!
The rules were fair, the play a barbarity
Savage words and bitter strokes
Yet I yielded to the whims and fancies of
Outrages vociferations which led to crucification,
And vituperations of schizophrenia,
Which I meekly admitted, as if I played a foul game;
As he was my best and unique pal and
I never wanted to lose him forever
The mind always search in unknown shores, and
Far away regions to discern a lost companion,
Missed en-route through your past rebirths..
Every moment the wind writes memoirs on the sand
And wander away, the waves blot it out
The next instant, ruthlessly with a cruel mind.
Calm sometimes, rebellious another time,
Turbulent at times, agitated, and weeping in grief
With suppressed mysteries of desires.
Yet, the fisherman adores its nature
And cling to her bosom, as of his mother
Every man is an ocean, ever on the lookout in debris
For lost treasures and possessions withered from his heart
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emotions seem to come in a ball,, once they begin rolling it is difficult to contain them in one or another.. they grow and evolve and often mow us down… very nice piece.
Paisley you are a genius,in evaluating the substance of a poem. I appreciate that quality
and immense thanks… cheers. kunjubi