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Dead Poets’ Society

Dead Poets’ Society

Movie: Dead Poets’ Society

To live deep and suck out all the marrow of life

I absolutely love this movie.
I am not going to write anyone’s point of view.
I will write my own.
Because that’s the point of this movie piece of art.

I closed my eyes and it reminded me of the madmen,
And I mocked at him as he did what he did,
Trying to fit into the blanket as he feeds,
Feeding on the jolts of thunder in his life,
By the love, laughter and all that matters,
Till it breaks or blunts the knife.
And I jumped on the table as it shook,
Shook its legs and the belief that I had.
It was a view indeed quite so ordinary,
But it made all the difference that it could make.
Indeed, the madman was not quite mad,
He was just trying to suck in all that he could get.
The marrow of life; the shine of stars,
as honey dripped off his lips and made him feel like god.
And I saw the poets skimming away from the herd,
Stitching the universe with art and words.
Indeed, they were gods at work,
Shaping the lives; the earth,
Stapling together the stories untold,
Of  band of congos cutting through the forest,
Leaving behind a golden road.
And I let out a yawp before it left me numb,
As I let the voices in my mind shunned.
I leaned in and my face let out a glow;
As a voice came in, almost inaudible; quite slow.
It wasn’t a voice even, almost like a murmur,
Like the breath leaving out in the winter’s cold;
But it was the voice of the gods,
Telling us nothing but this:
“Contribute a verse in life’s play,
And play as long as you may,
But don’t wait too long for it might fade away.
And until the moment comes;
Seize the day boys,
Seize the day.”



As I held my head in the dark of the night,
I waited for it to explode like a dynamite.
The train of thought was going where it always went,
Back to the place where I had made a huge dent.
I held my head as the wings hold the hull,
And watched the fingernails made its mark on my skull.
And yet it didn’t go off,
With every blink that I took,
Flashes of past came by to give a haunted look.
I didn’t know what to do,
Keep the eyes open and wait for them to burn,
Or close them and let that make my soul churn.
I used to be strong once,
Once upon a time;
When I believed love;
Love can heal all the pain.
And no I try only to see all efforts to in vain.
Only a thought can kill me twice,
And while I respawn it would kill me again,
What hurts more is numb after the pain.
Every time it pushes me off to the edge,
But catches before I fall from the ledge.
Thus keeping me alive but not letting me live,
Cutting the flesh of my soul; letting it bleed; keeping me captive.
I know I was once strong,
And fate did me wrong,
As I wait for it’s another round of damage,
I clench my fists and tighten my jaws,
And let the pain run through my nerves.
Like blood running through the veins;
Keeping me alive; scarring my skin,
Making my eyes glow, but killing me from within.



As I look at the sky up above,
I wish this moment stands still,
As I soak in all the feels.
This is the day I waited for,
Since I was a kid and played with a doll.
Used to have a prince and a beautiful house,
And a lovely lady in a pink gown.
I used to say they belonged together; forever; without a pause,
I said “they are drenched in love” before I knew what it was.
And now that I stand here; today,
I now know,
Whatever choices I made,
The things I saw and I said,
I was supposed to end up here,
Right this way.
I wish for the sheets of love,
To cover us and keep us warm,
And protect us from harm.
But that’s future and it will be fine.
For now,
Let me enjoy for today,
today I get what was always mine.
Now again I go back to the memory lane,
The doll house, the dreams and all that which kept me sane.
I grew up listening to stories of poisoned apples and glass sandals,
Of frozen heart and red bangles.
And with that my belief grew strong
That there is someone out there,
To release me from this bond.
And then I started searching for him everyday,
Looking behind masks; making myself vulnerable in each possible way.
And along the way, I met a few mistakes,
But never did it shake my dream,
And I fought them; however hard they seemed.
And now I stand at the aisle,
Letting out a curvy smirk,
As I meet my half in a while.
And as a tear-drops on my cheek,
I murmur to myself,
“Yes those stories can be true,
For every version of me, there’s a version of you.
Yes I believe in fairy tales and tangled fates,
Yes, I believe in Soulmates.”

For image source click here

Time Travel

Time Travel

I know that you’re galaxies away,
I know that it would always be that way.
But a heart yearns what it yearns.
I know it will have to pay the price;
To embrace the petals,
You have to be scarred by thorns.
And it is like the ink which leaves its mark,
And I hope that ours would be a piece of art.
So let us break the barriers of sound,
let ours be the story that they tell,
to the lovers of the sun and the lover of the land.
I can feel the pain you once felt,
It reaches out to me,
Beyond the stars,
Even though we are light years apart.
Don’t tell me you’ve given up now,
Don’t tell me you will break the vow.
Forget not what you once said,
“I will be the zero to your one,
zero being the very reason for the existence of one,
while we’re far we’ll contain the galaxies inside,
and together we will create infinite”
Now Now wake up from the sleep so deep,
Your prince can’t come to give you that wake-up kiss.
He is here all lonely and low,
Everything trying to kill him or giving him a deadly blow.
But there’s hope
and love
and magic at work.
Everytime I close my eyes I see that oak tree,
And beneath that; us; you reading out your vows to me.
Hush now, hush to sleep,
Wait for me but don’t you weep,
And do wake up and you shall find,
As I come down, tearing the fabric of time,
As I come down, to take what’s mine.

The Gift

Have you ever felt so touched?
Scarred by something that leaves a permanent mark.
And made that scar a part of yours,
Like the dust accepts the souls.
I met a girl on a cold December night,
I looked at her as her face shone by the lamp’s light. 
You know how these gifted people are?
Stuck to the ground but ideas above up far. 
She was one from the glorious pack,
Like the queen of spades from the deck. 
Studded with stars but scarred by luck.
She had this power to move mountains and empty the sea,
The power shining a heart in agony. 
Like the moon has its halo,
Giving light all around but itself in shadow. 
She too had the same fate, 
She was bad luck’s favourite bait. 
But oh wasn’t she the best I have seen.
Voice like that could make the gods weep,
And make the souls bleed. 
How is it to make it a part of your life?
Could you do that? 
Be gifted and yet not know of the gift you have.
She suffered from it everyday,
Creating masterpieces like it was a play. 
I think God works in a similar way.
Doing miracles and act like it’s just another day. 
How does it feel I ask?
Doing something only you can do, 
And letting that something burns the heart out of you. 

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