Alphabet Soup: N

Not a single night has passed – 
Not on my keen watch – when you,
Needing a toxic rust
Nailed it in the dust.

Never ever have you tried
Not one desperate time, to
Nullify the searing pain
New is my disdain

Nostalgia would run me over
Novembers, cold, long gone, when
Nonverbally, I could speak
Nonchalant was my name

Now it seems, there is a need to
Negate those golden years;
‘Nota bene’, a drifting past
Neglect, it seems, stands here.

Notorious and obnoxious,
Nefarious are your ways. 
Nuances subtle, I see you are
Numb, still, to my play.


Pollination of the Statue

Pollination of the Statue

“A fine work of art indeed,
All the intricate details,
Carved in calcium carbonate,
Scalpel and chip wasted away,
To conjure a still story. Made – 
By the virtuoso Angelo, you say? – 
well, what does it mean?”

“Why,” the Curator explains,
“Surely you are not the first
Nor will you be the last, to ask so. 
We often puzzled over the tale
Lying behind this queer statue. 
It seems to resemble a flower-head
Her petals yet unfurled fully, though
The queer thing is the little specks
Bursting from the heart of the flower,
Pollen of some sort, escaping 
The lustre lure of the lilliputian lily.”

The Keen Observer stands in examination
And scrutinisation, of this masterpiece. 
Time lingers as the petrified fragrance of the flower,
As the Observer ponders the meaning of this.
“It would seem to me, that this sculpter
Has delivered in the most gentle manner, the meaning
Of leaving and cleaving, or so ideally to speak.
And in this one art, we see,
The lighted splint that is the flow’r
Gives away her offspring;
Once held in little cells, the hour
Has come, to heed the wind 
Every thing the speck remembered
Will be thus forgot;
Even memories of their embers
By cooling, must rot.
See the wind comes hither 
See the season gather
All whose hearts yearn to be free
From the shackles of the past
Lay it there and back to dust
All the pain will turn;
Know the soil that breeds your hope
Lies over the horizon.

The Curator nods his head in fervent agreement. 
“Something says, in my heart, that your words
Have not meaninglessness; well done, and many thanks,
You have lightened the burden of this mystery 
Upon my mind.”




Something sinister, something dark
Something terribly wrong – 
It lurks within the marrows of my bones – 
It will jump out, it will scare
Any moment now.

I – I cannot explain,
This wrenched gut feel,
A night of disquiet and fear,
Deep down within,
My will and heart keel,
So I must keep watch my rear,
For now any moment 
Something will burst
FORTH, from the shadows
Eat at the rational 
Thoughts of my mind, that
Calm and console me:
Irrational, oddly paced!
Fictional, imagined.
Sensational thrill!
Adrenaline spill.
So my body and mind contradict
Driving the doubts and uncertainty out
A roller-coaster of ever-high peaks
Precede the swift callous dips;

No, in no sober state of mind would I want
A hysterical ride to remember.

Alphabet Soup: C


Come, and stand next to me here,
Catch a glimpse of this crawling landscape
Conducted in symphony before you,
Coasts and waters breaking on the rocks,
Canals of mountain-ridges, roughened and greyed
Colors aplenty in all the sprawled flocks,
Carpeted lush-valleys, in depth so arrayed.

Contemplate nature’s grandeur and majesty,
Count and find countless, the millions of hues,
Chronicle every of time’s alteration which
Combined, created this heart-stopping view. 

A Vanish’d Cold

A Vanish’d Cold

The barren trees quiver
– and shiver – as the cold wakes.
The sky jolts to life. 
A thunderous bolt of charged ice-crystals
Fall at the whim of the forces of nature
To the earth. The gale of old
Arises from slumber once more, 
Stirring despair and resistance
Amongst the people, as it howls,
Howls, and screams, bound in chains
It never wanted.

A pounding wind stirs a chalice
With the poison’d pattern’d flakes,
As crystals turn shards, turn daggers,
Torrential torture pouring from above.


The cries of the people have, at last,
Been heard. One more ancient awakens,
Called forth by the grandmaster Time.
Still death calls. But the life that courses through,
And empowers, this force, is stronger. 
It struggles as the stok’d ember spark’d
In a wintr’y, befall’n furnace.

The battleground awaits, solemn, grave,
As the cold stones arranged in the churchyard,
Awaiting, at last, the power play,
The cold, brazen’d, glaring skull, gnawing
At this old enemy, with thickened husk and bark
Navy and olive entwined around and around,
Fortifying and strengthening.

Quickly, the cold lashes, a biting wind
Which beats mercilessly on an aged,
But not weak, hide, of a greened tree.
Leaves, the pollen of a determined will,
Take root in the heart of the branches,
Though ice encrusts and crushes,
Destroys and starves.

Soon, the crown will into full bloom burst
 – and explode – as the morning wakes.
The earth will jump to life.
An immersed wave of greened pigment 
Strikes, and spreads, and ovewhelms,
From tree to tree. The heat of day
Casts the shadow of a bygone season away,
Providing the current of a systemic energy,
Revitalising, rejuvenating, reviving,
Reviving what was within the ember,
The flame. 

Alphabet Soup: W

Worried Walk

Whether I can rise tomorrow
Witness the sun still shine
Will depend on every sorrow
Weighing on your mind.
Whether I hear your melody
When the morning sings
Whether I stay melancholy
While the nightmares ring
With my darkness overhanging
With an aimless moon-cloud drifting
With your silent raindrops dripping
With our eclipse light still blocking

Wait – listen and hear, the wind call us
Whispering our names – our names. 
Wanting to reach out to the void between us
Wanting just to tell us

With a ‘we’ can we be victors
Wipe away the tears
We can see the night still scares but
With us, we will dare
We’re not alone, we have each other
When the midnight screams 
We can watch out for one another
Weather the bad dreams – 

Wake up. I’m still here.
Waves pound like hungry wolves outside.
Water caresses our boat. The
White of the brightened moon 
Wraps a lunar blanket around us.

We are safe.

My 26-Day Challenge: Alphabet Soup

I remember the first Daily Post challenge I did – Fearful Symmetry. I liked the challenge of using one letter to start every single line in a poem, although the symmetry part didn’t entice me that much… So, I decided I will challenge my poetic ability by writing 25 poems each with a particular letter starting every line. Don’t think I’ll go in alphabetical order writing the poems though… I did ‘V’ for Fearful Symmetry, quite hard but fun, with so many cool V-words. Don’t want to think too hard about ‘X’ or ‘Q’, though. 


The screen stole into our lives,
Merging and blending into the background
A daily hectic rushabout
When high tide comes, the flood of
Words and worlds from elsewhere 
Overwhelming us, drowning us.
Scream in capital, but they are still
Overwhelming us, drowning us:
Words and words from elsewhere,
When high tide comes. The flood of

A daily hectic rushabout.

Merging and blending into the background,
The screen stole into our lives

Thoughts: On the Argument for Virtual Communication (I)

Since I’m having an argumentative paper tomorrow, and one of the topics that can be tested is (rather broadly) ‘New Media’, I decided I could research on virtual communications as a form of revision – killing the proverbial birds with my virtual stone, the Internet. Anyway.

What I really did find as a constant theme throughout many pages discussing the (mostly harmful) effects of mobile phones and whatnot on their healthy growth, was the argument that since the Internet has been the cornerstone for the reconnection of people with their long-lost friends or old contacts, it can ‘strengthen’ this relationship. The loosely defined terms here are (sometimes) rashly applied to a general concept of the ability to build and foster the growth of a relationship through virtual means, ergo virtual communication is desirable as a bond-strengthener overall. The fact is that I don’t find this explicitly stated in most news articles online or on those discussive sites, but I think that most people have informally come to the abovementioned conclusion, thus giving themselves a reason to engage heavily in such means of interaction.

As I highlighted in my previous post about the differences in virtual and ‘face-to-face’ communication, virtuality eliminates the need to confront body language, emotive atmosphere, and facial expression (as examples, amongst some other perceived obstacles towards proper communication.) I think I should then clearly stress the crux of the argument lies in the purpose of engaging in any communication. Why do we want to reconnect with a primary school classmate whom we’d lost contact with aeons ago? Why do we search for friends on anonymous interaction websites like Omegle? Why do we rely on SMSes to convey information to our coworkers? ( Or why do we use Facebook messaging to get to know an acquaintance better?

Purpose determines means and attitude. What this means (no pun intended) is that what we want to achieve affects not only the way with which we try to achieve it, but how we view our way of doing so. I will explain what I view to be main purposes for virtual communication (this is the given means; we are trying to figure out the purpose). Firstly, the creation of a new relationship status between two people. By this I mean that one is trying to generate a new type of connection between him/her and another person. This new type is rather significantly different from the previous (or non-existent) relationship, for example: making virtual acquaintances on Omegle, talking to an acquaintance for an extended, consistent period of time. For the first: none –> virtual acquaintances; for the second: acquaintances –> virtual friends (?). Usually the ‘new type’ is an elevated status from the previous, and I have not thought of any declination as an intended purpose.

The second purpose: information. Simple and superficially elementary. The child texts the mother about ‘chaffeur’ arrangements; the worker pushes the work to the colleague; the class monitor disseminates a message from the teacher regarding an upcoming test. I won’t discuss much on this until it becomes necessary (it can), and as of now this purpose is simple to understand. We must remember this purpose does not have its aim at improving relationships, BUT it can affect relationships. However now we will look at those purposes aimed specifically at interpersonal ties.

Finally, the last purpose: the enrichment of an existing type of relationship. Seems closely linked to the first purpose, but there is a noticeable difference. One creates, the other maintains or deepens. A sufficient example I can use is that of reconnecting with an old friend – and by this I want to refer to friend rather than an acquaintance (like a classmate). You two have not seen each other for rather long and you can catch up and reconnect through virtual means, as if you guys were still friends. Or maybe, as is the case for many now, you would want to increase interaction between you and your love partner, and by frequent virtual communication you can show you care, while also making the relationship deeper in a way. 

Now that I think I have rather aptly summarised the three (main but not all-inclusive) purposes for virtual communication, I can stop here although I can go on for rather long on this elaborate argument.




The lights from that distant world drill into my eyes,
Swirling and shocking, blaring and deafening.
I still remember the fresh feel of the zealous fire,
Crackling and licking, luring and lulling.
I shut my eyes tightly and struggle out,
Out of my entranced, surreal state,
Out of the monitor.

Surely the Silicon forefathers knew,
What a disaster could hang
Over the inception and the dawn of a new
Era that grew in a bang.
Thousands of factories spring from the ground,
Years would mean nothing to them,
As they sought out this great magic and found
Rectangular light breaks the dam
Flooding the minds of a new generation
Inducing a hyper-hypnosis
For once the screen calls, the sudden decision
To stay in its spell is a given – 

And the fingers fly, fly fly, quick across the keys,
The mouse clicks, clicks, clicks, zooming in between pages and tabs
The eyes read, read, read, and read, never enough for a day
The brain thinks, thinks, thinks, faster than light in an optic cable

How would one know when to disconnect
From a reality never further from virtual
Is when one’s little ticking clock screams and we snap
Back from that land, to this world.