Through an Insect's Eye...

What if we were the size of ants?
What if every grain of sand,
were like a boulder,
and every rock,a mountain,
on which,we climb and stand?

What if,we were like
a bee in a rose,
seeking sweet nectar,
we could swarm those lands...

And,what if we were
those small insects,
which would take a long walk
on these human hands?

A larger,more wondrous,
our world might seem...
Lesser,a burden,
our life might be...

I see,Ye God,
I see Ye in those bees...
I see Ye bumbling away,
while on a feather me sleeps...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

November Rains...

Endless it pours…
North and East, seen and come,
Such, far and long, has been its course…
It finds its way, through the busy day,
Into the waves of Mother Ocean,
which has been its source…
Yes, all I can say is I agree,
Flawless, it soars…

The mellow thoughts,
Vacant brackets of mind…
Gloom, foretold, experienced upon ridicule…
Soars, singing those songs, from the high wet Eastern shores…

November winds,
And autumnal leaves,
Reminders of decay, which say
Life once bloomed,
And dirt now grooms…

Mellow, yes, mellow again,
For the fortune was beheld in uncanny veins…

There is a call, from those high mountains,
Reaches my ears,
Intense, those vibrations in the
Darkness of the night…

The pen glistens,
As I verse, my random thoughts…
Droplets trickle, filling the sill,
Slow and patient through a laboured wet grill…

I lie cold, bereft of notions,
I lie observant of the deathly silence…
Is it for me to speak,
Or just watch us mutate?
Well, perhaps be a part of it…

I watch, amused,
How my fingers move,
For the few ears which hear,
And the eyes that observe,
That which is near…

The lonely darkness,
Lays appealing…
The drums, the violins,
The keys of that board,
All blend in harmony with
These November rains…

Humanity slumbers,
Insomniacs don’t, ailed by their woes…
But all that live through
The freezing cold,
All that go back
To their tropical hold,
Are these rains…

Yes, it vibrates…
Bringing the autumnal chords to rest
In that sweet cold winter’s nest…
Reprieve, it does stay stealthy as ever…

Alone, and at peace,
What beseeches, one cannot see…
Neither happy nor sad,
This soul stays aloof,
From all that is earthly and un-free,
And why yes, bad…

For once, this ink fails to stop,
And the heart and mind waver not…
Blank, empty solitude,
Blissful retreat of my fortitude…

New, yes, new and untested,
With this heavy heart,
Blank and foreboding has there been
this untold future’s start…

This music has tried,
To convey to my heart…
What I write is just,
a beginning or a humble start…

These November rains shall again remain,
Etched, complex, divine remains…
Yes, this moment shall be cherished for long,
As it is not always, that one
Becomes soulful and strong…

Yes, it is not always, that one
Finds deep and assuring warmth…

I have penned enough verses,
To talk of this cold moment…
It seems now, that I have said,
Conveyed that message,
Of laughter and joy, and aye,
of those wet pains…
That which was shown to me,
In the warmth of these November rains…

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Oxymorons of Perception...

There are no fairies,
far the fairy tales...
There are no heroes,
far the heroics...
There are no sages,
far the miracles...

There are just men,
and just the mundane...

There is no ordinary person,
there is no extraordinary...
The soul,the spirit,
there is nothing at all...

A bliss flowing through the chasms,
and those fires,and waves of ballads,
unsung for a long time,forgotten...
Miracle,it is there everywhere...
Miracle,it is nowhere...

All pervading,non existing...
You all look at Light,
some smile,some laugh,
yet others frown and close their eyes...
It is in that light...

You feel darkness,
within and without,yonder,
but there is a flame which but flares
in that plight...
Some are blind,others blinded,
it is there,lurking as a shadow...

Darkness shadows the light,
and this flame shadows the shadow...
Yes,it is there,and it isn't...

After all,it is what you see,
and seeing is believing...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Address to Goliath of my Legion...

You say hi today, and the next,
you hear byes,goodbyes...
Today night you sleep,
you imagine yourself having a smile of peace...
And tomorrow Ye wake up...
And find empty farewells on your day's periods...
A voice inside my head speaks,
says all that has been,and shall be,
within your reach is incomplete my lad...
I survived against the tides,
of despondence and sorrow,
but truly,I see all that I felt true to,
follows me down,to the Valley of Doom...
Roses sprung through the thorns they say,
but noone thought,those thorns tore those
very blooming sweet roses...
Ye sing my song,oh twilight rays,
Ye sing my song,the dying thunders of ending rains...
That umbrella of protection,
from dampness and gloom...
Has but been forgotten,
torn amidst those fences erected in the middle of the road,
and I sat behind that wrongful wall,
wondering at my blinded faith,
and at those disillusioned dreadful wraiths...
The swords of those mighty have fallen accord
with the order of the sighted few,
who survived...
But Goliath of my Legion,
know this,and vow to make others know this,
Achilles also had his ankle,
and Ajax his rage,
Ulysses hath his age deceived,
and all fallen to gloom and immortality...
And so,have I bent down to inevitability of fate,
with my unseconded and now broken faith...
Now I believe,all you can create is,your journey,
and you shalt never besiege another soul,to share the realm,
that meant to be your path,and
thou shalt never intrude,
the realms of those who live behind the
Mighty Walls of Troy,
Troy of their heart...
A war won deceived,
is war not won at all...
And hence,thy servant perceivest this truth,
and at this hour,accepts and lays down contended,
contemplating his loss...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Vagabonds and the Highway...

I see him and her walking past...
I can see them walking past...
I can see everyone walking past...
Yes,I was here long before,
I remained here when everyone else learnt to walk
and now they run,run fast,agility evident,
thirst to suck the life out of their time,
everyone runs...
Everyone competent from humble beginnings,
competent in their present positions...
All fast vibrant entities...
Purpose,goal and direction,
all set their wheels in motion...
I seem to be stuck,in this quagmire,
my own impeding mind...
I am not moving,
Have become a bystander,
on that long lonely highway,
who realises that no vehicle stops here forever,
for you...
All move on,
none wait,none bother,in this fast road,
if other vehicle moves or not...
I for now have become that vehicle whose engine
doesn't talk...
Hoped that those who stop,
those who stopped by,
remain and help me get a move on...
But now I see,none shall stop for you,
none was meant to do so...
I if have to make a journey,
have to do it myself...
On a Highway,I am but a Vagabond,
of no home,no friends, no noone...
And vagabonds make a journey of their own,
or perish stagnant as bystanders...
Now I see,those who stopped longest,who came from behind,
those who have been here and making journey further,
all driving at greater speeds,while I wait
hoping some will provide me with reparation and lifeline...
Ah,foolish me,this impertinent stagnancy is taking its toll,
stayed stationary long enough,
I wish now to get a move on..
Highway is for Vagabond to travel,
and this chapter taught,
will serve me well I believe...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Sonnet at Dusk...

Sounds of treason echoing your dread,
mind and thy heart hanging by that thread...
And I see,that person reach out screaming,
altering the voice,and the meaning...

Gauging the waters,have I stayed at beach so long,
depths of those oceans,never felt or written into my song...
Distant echo of a hollow sound,
and cruel reality of the blackened mound...

Greater truth laid down by your way,
but the stubborn fearful mind refuses to sway...
And I gasp for breath with a song in my heart,
which asks for deliverance through this burning art...

God helps those,who listened to what he said,
and went their way,in time, realising it was all in their head...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Alchemy of Mind...

Words,the literary ether,
the life in the forest of humanity...
I still remember those days,
sitting down in the cozy dark corner,
with a book in hand,
shifting slightly,whenever a leaf turned...
Or else,those rain-drenched nights,
where you lay,with a warm blanket,
turning either sides,
at the turn of each page...
A book,a paper,
a friend,whom you carried around...
That friend,whose presence
made the most weary lecture,
pleasurable...
The physical proximity,
the lexical connection,
the informal extension of formal existence...
Under the glares of commuters,
beneath the blaring traffic,
beyond the rising lead,
in that dilapidated rocky bus,
Ye helped me find solace...
Transported to magical realms of Middle Earth,
riding with Harry on the centaur,
or maybe talking to Sapphira,the blue dragon...
You never left me to despair in harsh poison of reality...
My lungs burnt less in that smoke,where
my mind so carelessly soared...
Then when,it was time to come back,
and give the earthly pleasures a thought,
Wordsworth,showed Words' worth...
I know of England,I know of its flowers,
I know of Khashi,and its incessant showers...
I know,not because I have seen them in day,
but because I have flown over them,while it was just here that I always stayed...
And then there came Chaucer and Pope,
bringing with them Renaissance and its hope...
And Coleridge passed silently by,
with Keats leaping about,
singing what he knew on earth,
and then they passed by...
Sinister mind of Hitler,
and cold intellect of Kipling passed,
Shirley and Yeats,barely surpassed...
And when these poets and writers departed,
taking Europe and States,and Asia with them,
I sat conversing with my thoughts undefined,
till there came a stroke of unknown design...
Formed into words,were my mind's dances refined,
Structured have I this poetry with humility,
as an Ode for the Divine...
Singing the glories of the thoughts of those wild,
and mourning the progress we men made so mild,
I take your leave hoping for a miracle,and thus I resign...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju