We are, what we make of it!

Life is a choice,
grow wise out of it.
Trouble is a toy,
play with it.
Let your heart scream out aloud;
We are, what we make of it!

Past is a baggage,
get rid of it.
Fear is a stranger,
shy away from it.
Burst open yourself;
We are, what we make of it!

Pain is a chisel
shape yourself with it.
Happiness is a gift
unwrap it.
Go, grab this moment, make it count;
We are, what we make of it!

Courage is a rock,
stand by it.
Hope has wings
fly with it.
Reach out to the sky and dare;
We are, what we make of it!

Don't let someone
to talk you into disbelief.
you are, what you are.
Today is the day, to cruise along;
And, remember,
We are, what we make of it!

Copyright © 17 July 2014, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

To be or not to be

On a day when faith fails to befriend you

and rubs in the last straw of helplessness,

that day, you know,

life doesn't sing lullabies when you want it to.

On a day when sorrow has no bounds

and pain is your only solace,

that day, you know,

hope doesn't look in the eye, it outlooks you.

On a day when you dwell in those past moments 

of rage and happiness,

that day, you know,

time doesn't gift, it only shifts and drifts.

On a day when you search for a reason

to live beyond,

that day, you know,

dreams don't play dice.

I ask myself,

To be or not to be?

You may live long enough 

to do what you do,

but when the sun sets on you,

rise you must, beyond the eyes of your soul.

Copyright © 19 Apr 2013, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Smoke from their Pyres

I
held the gun
at point blank
and left
the moment
to trigger.

I
threw up
Sulphur
in air,
not to see
the smoke.

Dead were
my brothers
and win
on my side.

I
knelt
on their pyres
with the medallion
on my bossom.

Copyright © 29 Aug 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Silent Nights

I often stood by the window sill
and awaited till the moon
mirrored her lynching eyes.

The road down the street
always wore the color of black pearl
that she dearly wished for.

The cold breeze from far north
often smelled of her cushy suave skin
that bosomed my crave
for her beguiling charms.

The hush night always hummed to me
in a dulcet voice,
resounding the words
that she lent meaning to.

The raindrops often smothered
my pale cheeks
and coursed down my lips
rinsing her tantalizing presence
until I surrendered all of me.

The pages of the dairy
that lay unopened
are the only stack of aging papers
that 'll stay alive to
recite the tale of silent nights
in a deluge of
broken words and incomplete sentences.

Copyright © 23 Sep 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Of her charming ways

Of her dulcet voice
in those green meadows,
of the little butterflies like
she spread her arms
to sweep those
innocent ripples
of my eyes.

Of the roaring seas
in those jazzy waves,
she galloped
bare foot with a torch
of dangling flames
setting the sun
in her eyes.

Of the scent of jasmine
and the shine of silk,
she broke
the defences of me
and touched me
of her soft milky shin.

Of the carpet of blue sky
and the wings of clouds
she twined my wrist
in her moon eyed bracelet
like a fairy of edens
unto the gates of paradise.

Copyright © 10 Oct 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

In the eye of her trance

I drink from
the crystal laced eyes
of yours,
as they coerce me
in it's enchanting splendour.

Don't let the eyes
to look at me,
in mischievously
nerving ways,
I'm afraid
if it would
rob all of me
that I ever had.

The goblet
of sugared nectar
held in your eyes
oozes out
like the morning dew drops
washing me in
unbearable lightness.

Don't let my soul
to rest in peace
with just one glint
of you,
I want to die
in it's irresistible tease
so that,
I can rise again
to be teased
until I die
again and again...

Copyright © 31 Oct 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Inked in her Expressions

The auburn titter
of the fresh maple leaves
that turned the wind south,
waited all along under the sun
to catch a glimpse
of her pearl lit smile
that silenced the time.

The astral glow
of the shivering crescent moon
that mirrored a million hearts,
skipped a heartbeat
when her silver bathed anklets
jingled to jive
a thousand notes of music.

The piercing incense
of the white morning mist,
that concealed it's shimmering eyes,
woke up to see her,
letting the silks of black hair
that swirled in air
to kiss the light of the day.

The meandering ripples
of the river down the valley,
that hunted the nature in verve ,
took down a bow
in reverence of her presence
to tear open the sky all blue.

Copyright © 12 Jan 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Sandglass in time

in glory days of those times
there were hopes awaiting to blossom
bathed to bled in dreams
there were pages of self bursting to open.

a twinkling twilight star
up the high rise sky;
I once saw,
raining the night
in awe.

young, time on your side
kicking the dust
when sun shined.

a eon behind
moon seems the same
you passed your prime,
and until yesterday
you missed being the golden flame.

and, today
I write this verse;
gutted, awaiting to be the
sandglass in time.

Copyright © 13 Apr 2012, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Let's toast

Amidst the myriad thoughts
and those screeching honks,
I met my past
to reminisce those glorious times.

On a cold chilling evening,
down those four exciting summers,
we had bumped into each other lives.

The roaring wind
blew past my silent ears,
echoing the chimes of her.

Time had learnt to
to swallow its tongue,
but the dumb heart
relented to skip her beat.

I held my glass of wine
and toasted it in wilderness,
as the chilling rain drops
swept past my dusty eyes...

Copyright © 7 Aug 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Bubble

I
gaped
at the shiny water bubble
as it traversed
the space
inking the air
in myriad flights
just as the caged soul
essays its words
when lent the freedom
to express.

The bubble broke
in tumultous breeze,
vanishing into thin silence
leaving the traces
of its meandering vibes.

And,I
smelt the arriving storm
before the rain and sunshine.


Copyright © 13 Dec 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

The water mirror

Dark as blue
And of its transparent hue,
He sees a wading con;
A pawn
Unlike him
of ripples and stills
In it's jaded flow.

The blurred sketch
Of a frail man
On the canvas
Of clean waters
Thats mirroring
him otherwise.

The violent silence
He has breathed upon,
has slowly decayed
through his lungs
and now
it's merging back to silence.

Mirror images
are false he believed,
until the water mirror
echoed his deathly scar
as he washed his face.

Crawls as he
to wash the blemish,
Alas! it's shown him,
His true self.

Copyright © 5 Aug 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

White Striped Pyjamas

Sticky with sweat
all around this life.

White striped pyjamas
my only solace.

They are loose
comfortable and easy
to wear.

Can tighten them
around the waist,
and slip into them
in a haste.

It has a drawstring,
feels like a tight rope of hope
yet slippery
and may choke.

It keeps life simple.
Devoid of creases
if well kept
and it may itch
when not washed.

I keep them safe
down my wardrobe,
when in need
I look at them
and heed.

I hate to borrow
or lend my pair of pyjamas.

Bed time, lifetime
Be it anytime
you need a pair of these
to remind you of ease.

Copyright © 01 Apr 2011, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

An ode to her

In the echoes
of her silvery chiseled anklets
I heard the sweet silence
speak a thousand words.

In the deep red glow
of her little velvety cupped lips
I knelt down to take a dip
in its sea of undying shyness.

In the arresting stings
of her flaming golden eyes
I saw the heavens rise
in frenzy flares to touch her feet.

In the shivering chills
of her mellowing creamy skin
I sensed the jarring heaviness
take me over unto a bliss.

Copyright © 06 Nov 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Shreds

The barren winds
blow across
my healed scars,
tying a knot
of unbearable sighs.

The fleeting questions
that I hide
in my bare bosom
lynches me
in veins of pain.

Do You hear me, O' Lord?

The frail life
that defeats the barriers
through silent struggles
have lost the strength
and the words have dried
in your prayers.

I'm a past of You
with a beacon
of ensnared prophecies.

Do You heed them, O' Lord?

The wheels of time
sewed up the ailing moans,
but the soul immersed
in piousness
died at the mercy
of penance.

I ask,
Why doth You
turn a blind eye
when I need thy
vision to see the Sun.

I'm a gossamer
glossed in your schemes,
Now torn up into
sheer shreds, sheer shreds...

Copyright © 18 Aug 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Matchstick

I
talk of a Matchstick
that lent fire
to my candle.

It had a
fierce head
of gunpowder
with a slender tail
of ageing wood.

It pondered
all while
and wished
for a name.

It dreamt
all long
and desired
to taste fame.

And,
one fine day

I
came along
and set It
on flames
to light
my candle.

Wax dripped
as the candle blazed.
And, the Matchstick,
through It's Last Rites,
still burnt all in glow
for It's pride.

I
held It's ash
in bare hands
and smelled
It's sacrifice.

It had
brought light
to my world
and had
given life
to my candle.

It had held
It's head high
to burn in spurt
for a name,
and to douse out
with a sparkle
to taste the fame.

Copyright © 11 Oct 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved