The Few Creators : Creating Creators

Feelings I didn't want to do it Or maybe I did, It all started when I said that your post was lit, And you commented that you were deeply grieved. You said you were left to die Under the unforgiving sky, With no one to see you cry And if let alone you would try ----- To leave this world and fly. To fly far, far away from the wide-wide sky But it was just another big lie. I believed in you, tried to console you, I said, "All will be well, a good life awaits you." But you acted well and kept on bluffing Saying the same four lines to Joe, Bill, John and Irving That you were left to die Under the unforgiving sky, With no one to see you cry And if you could you would try ----- To leave this world and fly. But playing us was your aim, Nothing more, nothing less, and you did nicely frame ------' That you suffered, while others betrayed: But never did you think what had you portrayed When with the five of us you pla

Oh life! Why always do you take such a sharp turn? It cuts me deep, I bleed and still I have to run. Dying with pain, physical or mental, do you think it's fun? I did the enduring till you're done. I lock myself up in a room, crouched in one corner I stay, Like a prey running away from his predator, I pray that all will be well, afraid of the future that lay, I think of life as a bad mentor. "Try to rise up and calm down, it's gonna be fine", they say. "Is it that easy? My successes and failures gone with the wind so easily, how do I not freak out and say----- Life's over and so is my hope, leave me alone and let me cry?" "It's useless for me to stand up and try", I sigh. And to you, to you and you alone, Are you happy now? With me not bothered and gone Blessed I am I realise to live with a life Than to live with a selfless life filled with strife. Countless emotions mixed with will, I control mys

We're rolling down the road With tear sheds and a broken heart! Recovery, what for? The pieces of the hurt And red shed of the tears, They remind us of the love That we've promised to keep But could not. Why forget the happiness, The joy and thrill of their presence? Isn't it better In our head like a lesson? Isn't it supposed to make us happy, That we're going to do better than this one So tell me Why are you sad? Why are they making you feel like that, Lessons are supposed to be learned Not only to keep them in our mind To make the learning in practice. Why aren't you practicing it then? Are you still haunted by the hurt? Or are you too scared to fail At some imaginary test you've made for yourself. Please go easy on yourself, You have to prove no one: LIVE FOR YOU! -Pushpanjali.

If you're going to love me this softly Nurture and care for me, Hold my hand like yesterday With all your fingers interlocked as if a tie, I'll let you take me to the places You make me dream about. If your lips feel the same way every time, Soft and promising A little sweet-a little scared As if we'll run out of time And we'll end up late, With haste l'll let you kiss me tomorrow One more time: Before I leave for the night And keep missing you until the morning But I cant tell you that. What you must know ias that You can love me, Don't ask if you can For the things you want Just stretch your hand to hold mine You don't need to look away When you can't find the right words to say Just stay there in the moment with me; We don't have to talk: smile at me Or just watch me gaze back at you Without hesitation- 'Cause   Speeches don't define love, We lovers do. And if you get lucky. Before we depart, after our

We looted the memories out of our very bag of untouchable treasure And lived the nights as they were days. When the light had been burning our eyes We made huts to hide in Then laugh at the others who wamed us That this dream was to end. Has this dream yet ended for us No! We are paying back for the time we wasted For the days we held cursed against each other And stole from the bag, As our escape. Were still looking at those people Who wamed us to come back to our senses, Now I look back at her at times And ask,"what will we do after we figure a way out?" She looks away as if saying, pretend like we never happened"                                                                     -Pushpanjali

I stood there in the middle of nowhere, looking up at the tall trees as they made sounds in order to seek my attention. I didn't know What this place and the things that lived here were doing to me, but I was more drawn to these woods than I was ever to home. Sometimes I ask myself if I am built in this way or it's just a phase, that want to stop at each corner of every place weird, strange, beautiful or sad, and take notes of the happenings there just like I do when surrounded by people, I want to be able to tell them what they should know about themselves, and make them realize that they are just not appreciating them because it's themselves! It's strange as I say it now, however, then when nobody was there to judge me on stopping for minutes and doing nothing but staring at the trees, one at a time, and noticing silly things like its rough yet royal bark or the way their solidarity creeped under my skin and made me feel as if I was trespassing their territory-

Elusive Thoughts My soul's a stir of energy drinks, And reflections of the moon light. I lie to the ground before Taking flight off towards the silver lining In the spotlight. When I let go of the dragger hanging From my mother's heavenly edges, As a child, the only thing I feared was Ifl ever could do things the right way. And when ld finally do it right, There would be the enormous sky Looking down at me. It wasn't enough, I wanted a human heart: To tell me what I must not and must've. Not the wordless glance I see that my past Has moulded me into a thoughtful, Careful and kind. So lask, if it is okay to feel inane; To be empty from inside Yet shaped finely from out? Is it okay to be drunk on caffeine? ~ Pushpanjali.

TO ME AND YOU Somewhere a part of me wanted you to be still To pin you down into paper That you'd never be able to leave me But you faught your way out my word play, r'd pull your fingers into a hold to calm you down So you could stare at our hands In the dim, as if we're forbidden to touch And I'd get a change to see how you blushed, Before l'd return home with that art in mind And warmth in soul Trying to give birth to my version of you into a poem: But failing miserably each time. You werelike a broken bowl of sand and beads Spilled on the mattress of my mind It felt as if you spread and caught Every inch of my thoughts, That patience alone couldn't do away. ButI wasnt planning on picking up the beads, Rather 'd sit on the messier part of the mattress And write poems about how beautiful the mess was Even though I couldn't explain how it looked, r'd call it beautiful for it is. Even thoughI

Poem - #3 | Painting With Emotions It's all coloured in pretty pink the sky And I somehow make myself calmly sit So that the restless nerves throbbing all over my body Could figure out a way to quit. There's soft jazz soothing my mind And soft pastel colors smudged on my hands As I paint on white sheets a growing moon And a little hazy start as a company. I kind of go restless at the thought of the night ending Even though there are hours to go for the end But the star in my painting fidgets To let me know that its gonna be there As long as I keep this sheet with me. The pink shade drenched out from the clouds I am unsure if I should get up from my seat My nerves are somewhat calm now The jazz turns into blues And my painting lingering with a star Near the growing moon: I wake up next day and watch my comfort star. I think will keep this painting forever. ~ Pushpanjali.

Poem - #2 | Resentment I wanted us to be the hold my hand couples While walking down the street, Even if it's to the nearest shop. Who assume the other is mad If they don't lock fingers that well. I wanted him to tell me That he loved me every once in a while Like he doesn't mean it that much But once in a day, I also wanted him To look me in the deepest corner of my eyes And light up fireworks as he tells me How much he valued me I wanted clichès, Night walks to the grocery store Eating too much cold dessert And spoiling one another. And falling asleep in between pillow fights. Sometimes I think I wanted too much. ~Pushpanjali Forth I leap to the land which calls me, Hovering a red flag. The symbols of the worldly signals Couldn't have worked 'round here, I thought. Somedays I sit aloof from the crowd, I know, I have come here with a purpose But the signs don't show, no more. Do I not need someone to make me