Imagine being a self-acclaimed poet with pearls of my mystic writing treasured either within one’s soul or files by phone, having barely made way to the audience. Call it a mysteriously beautiful tale or a bit of fun spilt jokes, I’ve devised a strange way of potentially communicating with myself.
Be it the supremely awful day at work or a desperate day out with friends over the weekends. Be it my weird pep talk to boost my morale or giving a stress booster via not so funny jokes. This has been structurally poetic and/or sarcastic and has been accomplished through the rhymed orchestration of words.
This awkwardly strange quality of mine has helped me in many ways. To quotes some: being hard on myself AKA, a reality check, and ending up with a collection of poems.
I’d take this opportunity to explain myself before construed the other way round. Whenever I’ve been pushed for imbibing negativity of surroundings, I’ve tremendously failed. Stress has uniquely acted as a suppressor on my thoughts, and in effect; made rhyming a real tough job. Yet, the rare pleasure and social issues have kept me on toes and occupied with an ounce of hope. Somehow, bringing in prospective goods to look up to and scribble words into my tattered collection.
I take this chance to pen down my moaning over my daily busy schedule during pre-corona days followed by sarcastic aggression over Facebook wannabes, making me long for a vacation or at least a hideout to offer a little repair. It has thoroughly been my emotional state, at least what I can collect from a week prior to the lockdown. And I remember myself musing as:
“She says she’s a woman of heart and soul
Life with a meaning, driven by some goal
No wonder she was so right;
Albeit she tweeted all, the last night
The colors of life depicted by the brand-new dress
The exuberance via check into a local address
And so the days went by, reaching out the abyss
In the rush of expression, failing the real bliss.”
On the contrary, I would at times blame the busy schedule and plenty of time swallowed by a daily commute leaving no time to rest and digest remembering cribbing over missing the hangout, family catches up and me time. Allowing swirled tornado of bittersweet word making out within the vicinity of my head:
Sponsored Topics
“Hurdling through the tyrant routine
Hoping to get over the seamless monotony
But it’s only another day, unknown unseen.
Awaking to the work call, failing vigor & gleam
A daily flip flop, trying to make the ends meet
Recapping days when growing up was the wildest dream.”
However, today when we are urged to put oneself in isolation and practice social distancing, contrary to normal people yearning for outside life, I’ve experienced an amazing calm in sightseeing nature that is across my room through the balcony.
My petty brain was never expected to look forward extracting joy out of an ordinary view. Turning out to be so charismatic but only if due time was allowed without the mind being consumed or pre-occupied.
And here’s that my heart outpours, making me go within when I’m restrained from going out. Also marking the end of my poetic musing as I end up submitting to nature and enjoying the moment to its full.
“As I sit on my balcony, across the windowpane
Looking aimlessly down the boulevard lane
There’s twinkling sunshine through a clear sky; that I witness
Gleaming in might, above the road with sheer emptiness
And for as far as I remember, this is only once in my lifetime
That I get to see trees with birds, chirping in harmony and rhyme
Unaware, in awe of this visual treat, I hymn along for no reason
Cherishing floral growth betwixt the transforming season
Amidst nature’s symphony as I pause and wonder
This has been there all the while, but only now I get to see and ponder
Alas, in our rush to cope with competition and daily office chore’s
We’ve been denying achievements in hand and greedily wished for more
Had we spare time for family and beauty in our vicinity, yearning appreciation
The global pandemic had not made us experience similar poise and felicitation.”
And before I formally end, I’d like to add: It’s always the little ordinary things that behold the depths of happiness. Lookout. Maybe you’re missing the gigantic happiness. Ignoring what not to be. Counting it frivolous of all. Wishing all a sweet musing.