In the spirit of the holidays

Let me ask you to take the time to please,
spare a thought for those without ease,
and try to do something to rekindle their fading belief,
in the love and loveliness that are often dormant in humanity.

Please be one of the many possibilities,
that could become a beautiful reality,
if we set aside our inbred apathy,
to actually take the time to see.

That treating them with kindness and civility,
as they are deserving equality of opportunity,
and our heartfelt fraternity/sorority,
giving them a chance to feel empathy.

Will do so much more than pride or pity,
or empty acts of supposed charity,
for all anyone seeks is honesty,
loyalty, mercy and humility,

To be treated with a lack of disparity,
a manner devoid of insincerity,
like they too are integral to society,
and not some extra entity on the edge of life,

(I know the holidays are mostly over, but the message can be relevant at any time)

WiFi

The planet is almost entirely globalized,
Communication, literally, at the speed of light*,

Humans live an almost entirely digital life,
News and Entertainment at the blink of an eye,

Gadgetry has also increased insight,
Science's mysteries are being cracked open wide,

Everything is but hours away with commercial flights,
Outer space has been breached with satellites,

Limitations are no longer easy to define,
Its technology is every State's greatest pride,

Yet there still are a multitude of problems with my,
unreliable, miserable, insufferable,
WiFi.


*Optical fibers

The End of Examinations*

No more textbook-induced hunchbacks.

memorizing an incessant stream of facts.

writing essays until my hand cramps.

stress about the listening properly in class.

No more staying up until midnight,

living off adrenaline and fright,

homework stacked up to the sky,

feeling like my brain is about to fry.

No more worrying my head will explode,

carting around a mountainous workload,

fretting over every little mark and score,

passing out against bus windows.

No more waking up early in the morning,

consistent, countless slogging,

struggling without stopping,

with worries getting in the way of blogging.

No more meeting last-minute deadlines,

despairing over library book fines,

pain over living up to paradigms,

expectations for a while.

No more counting the days till vacation,

grasping at fraying patience,

academic obligations,

No more, at least until this year's cessation....

*For now.

Poetry is not a sign of depression

The likes of Poe and Plath,

Have given poetry a bad rap.

Their odd inclination toward,
Using words to air their troubles,

Have left people are all too ready to say,
That poetry is a sign of dysfunctionality.

Well, there is nothing wrong with writing poems,
Or using them to convey your deepest emotions .

For speech is plagued by uncertain ambiguity,
But words are something more concrete.

Once it is placed on screen or on paper,
It is more a statement than a conjecture.

Memories can be forgotten or fade into obscurity,
But when transcribed, they become parts of history.

And the visual art has so much more meaning,
It is imbued with the most honest feeling,

That a person can ever hope to demonstrate,
Is found in the art that they make.

So poetry is not a sign of depression,
It is simply self-expression.

So poetry is not a sign of anxiety,
It is a person showing the world how they see.

So poetry is not a symptom of any illness,
But simply the act of writing in verse.

Stress

Stress is stalking me,
Waking or asleep,
I never get a respite,
It is taking over my life.

From the dawn's light,
To the stroke of midnight,
I labor ceaselessly,
Yet it never leaves.

High school is a struggle,
But there is a threshold for trouble,
That every student seems to possess.
Crossing it means becoming prey for stress.

The towering stack of things to study,
And other commitments often bury,
Students from all hopes of evasion,
With stress standing in the midst of every situation.

Stone Ceiling

My shoulders seem to carry more,

than Atlas bearing the weight of the world.

For expectations pile on my back,

Bending me over until I cannot see the path.

Staring at the ground, Unable to see the skies,

Tears the only raindrops, as they fall from my eyes.

No rocks or planets could be as heavy,

As the things others expect of me.

My future, my present and my past,

Have all been steel and iron cast.

Unerasable in the passage of time,

Until slow erosion erases me from mind.

But as hammers and force shatter stone,

With effort can I make my name known.

Neurotic Nostalgia

Simple dreams

Sometimes lead you far away

Simple wishes

Sometimes lead you so astray

Sometimes,

its the things we want,

that blind us to

what we have got.

Its so clear,

what was once mine,

when it disappears,

from in front of my eyes

Never knew

how much it meant,

till it left,

gone with the wind.

Never knew

that it was always there,

waiting for me,

though I never cared.

And as the time went by,

I began to realize

that I had never lived life,

Till I had to face actual strife

All those things,

 that I left behind,

Thought they did not matter,

at the time

Now I feel

that the days gone by,

Could have held so much more

if I had tried

Threw it all away,

without a backward glance

watched it fade away

Never have another chance

But life goes on,

in an endless cycle of days,

and every future,

is one learned from mistakes

My First Proper Poem

How something so small

can provide such comfort

that I can never hope to know.

But it is what

sustains us all,

through the trials of today and tomorrow.

For despite all

that humanity believes,

we shall always hold this close,

It is hope

that lets people see,

through the mists of sorrow and loss.

(I wrote this February 2011)