Was Under Repairs- The Verse Factory

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Apathy stains wore its equipment,

Corrosion from gales of compromise had it dysfunctional,

Cylinders of creative lubricant dangled empty,

Staggering under debts of the womb,

Worst fears of its crafty artisans turned true,

None could make it to work,

For needles of mediocrity were scattered bare,

Flooding roads of my town, pointed everywhere,

With lamed logistics, a hungry nation to scare,

A stagnant fleet of trucks, dusty with lethal punctures,

Maintenance craved every inch of its infrastructure,

Servicing had been the need of the hour,

Engineers blocked the exit, while to mend forced in entry,

Barred the ailing entrepreneur from notifying,

“Under Repairs – The Verse Factory…”

Debaroon’013

(Sincere and Heartfelt Apologies to all my beloved and precious readers for being away…

For this pothead, rehabilitation was the surprise gift of this kind society.

With my return, awaits you some white-eyed poetry…

 

 

Image credits: http://pretoria.olx.co.za )

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Words of Clay – “Gardener of Beauty”

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From His prison of aesthetics, can you grant me liberty?

From that hypnotic trance of His artistry, can you set me free?

Will I ever be able to alter my duty?

For at the celestial factory,

He sculpted me himself for sheer exclusivity,

To serve my years in flesh till the dusk of eternity,

As a zealous Gardener of Beauty…

Deb’013

Artist : Gauri Sakhuja

Words of Clay” is a poetic journey through the creations of Gauri Sakhuja, a young and talented Indian sculptor from her latest solo exhibition at Triveni Kala Sangam, New Delhi, India.

The journey ends with this post…

Thank You! readers for all your appreciation, inspiration and support. 

 

 

For more on the artist, visit : https://www.facebook.com/gauri.sakhuja/about

We’ll lose the Magician

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Lies dusty his crown,

Locked tidy in his closet, his golden gown,

The sorcerer is withering away, simple logic,

Assign a magician, tasks that require no magic,

Then, watch him self-destruct,

For there simply can be nothing more tragic,

Sans, the stage, the jeering crowd,

The wide-mouthed claps, hoots and the cheers,

Life slowly blurs in the rear,

The end’s then too hard to resist,

Sheer futility devours his fear,

For a final glimpse, he draws life’s bowl near,

Finds dried up and gone are those last drops of purpose,

No miracles in store, he re-assured clear,

Empty white shines porcelain,

Now he knows, he’s breathing in vain,

Untraceable now, his prime reason to exist…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image Credit : http://www.tripadvisor.com

Personal Diaries – ‘Evanescent Senses’

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My senses are pampered they say,

Or, maybe they label it that way,

Yes, they’ve been loyal slaves to the harsh Mistress of Aesthetics,

While, Mediocrity’s soothing Inamorata has been forever at bay,

Towards risky pathways to fame,

They disobediently sway,

Sucked in deep and deeper into quicksands of creativity,

That’s how they would perpetually want to stay,

Couldn’t tame them my deadliest reality,

From lush green lawns of mechanical apathy, and,

Fertilized with compromise, greener pastures,

They’ve always craved the quickest goodbyes,

Lightning departures…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image Credit: http://u0s7al00.deviantart.com

Dragon’s Inn

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Welcome to the Dragon’s Inn,

Standing shady, luring sins,

A villainous desire draws you in,

A dip into comfort lethally seductive,

Your surrender to a deeper sink seems compulsive,

Into those dingy lanes, you’ve to report,

And, then time’s lost gazing the Red Fort,

Every morning, you try stroking out brave,

Departure is then only what you crave,

You beg futile to step out clean,

Now, out of your hands, life’s quietly slipping out, unseen,

Will devour you slow, scrub out all your sheen,

The ‘HI’ is yours, while the ‘GOODBYE’ is his,

There’s no looking back now,

Once in the grip of Delhi’s Djinn,

You gotta pay up for your share of Bliss…

Debaroon’2013

(As felt by an outstanding student of the Liberal Arts from a Prestigious American University.

A step into the Dragon’s Inn and now Delhi’s Djinn has her. She resides on the streets of Paharganj Delhi, selling herself to almost anyone and everyone, for a mere Fix.)

 

 

 

Image Credit : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hCVjreYp1E

Personal Diaries – ‘Wins the Hare’

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Hungry flowers are blooming everywhere,

Blind seedlings are mushrooming here and there,

Hues of helplessness are painting this part of the sphere,

The superior has little voice,

Starving secured on deeds right,

In its shell, awaiting the moment like the tortoise,

Sky high waves of ignorance are abundant in sight

Lashing dry sands of simplicity, wet,

Pace-less on highways, a peekaboo has it trembling in fear,

While, the inferior toils swift in sweat,

Wide-eyed it shines above ones, near and dear,

Empty sacks of wisdom are concealed crystal clear,

Hips and hops, some smart talks, hollow confidence dear,

Fake it to survive, knows the sharp-eared Hare…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

Image Credit: http://fineartamerica.com/

Personal Diaries- ‘Dancing Sane’

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Something you seldom  get to see,                        

A sober responsible me,

Saving my ass, voicing righteous,

The ‘should n’ should-nots’ in chorus,

But every second summons me myself,

Lures me pathways to perdition,

Roadways to beautiful destruction,

Someday I’ll be done with debts to the seed that bore me,

Sharpen my ears and sniff my way into the woods,

Towards those faintly audible chants of poetry,

For the dragon within roars enraged imprisoned,

Scratches my walls of flesh, spits fire, burns me, bleeds me,

I hear loud ceaseless screams, “Your only morphine is Enlightenment,

The rest isn’t for you to gain,

You dance Sane, you earn Pain,

On soils richly aesthetic,

Stands your warehouse of verses for the world to cherish,

Don’t leap for all that isn’t meant for you,

You’re only a devil born to create and perish,

Your pretense shall soon fail, towards the End,

A Hungry Creator shall scurry naked again…”

Debaroon’2013

 

Image Credit : http://lightworkers.org

SinRains

DE11_PG2_4-COL_LIG_1050209g

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sky screamed Sunless,

Broke loose crashed, gone unbearable,

Seeds of her follies, her tangles under the table,

Her moments with June – moist stress,

In howls, her man summoned menace,

Ravaged the land then, children of Eros,

Danced casanova, those faithless droplets,

Washed away, into the drain gurgled down her character,

Weighed down, impossible another slithery escape,

Cries unattended, septic now this disaster,

She bears his lashes silent, he scorns aloud in pain,

Panting a wet blue to a dim gray disdain,

Trickles to the ground, love’s last button,

She is running out of her sailing cotton,

Panic-stricken, slipping out naked, her disgrace…

Debaroon’2013

 

 

 

Image Credit : http://www.hindustantimes.com

Happy Independence Day!

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Back then, the brute was blunt,
Antagonism was far more proclaimed,
The villain had the balls to spit enmity,
In public, throw up stinky contempt,
Shone our target, we knew where exactly to head,
Fouled us for no cards red, had us boil in a soup of rage,
The hungry was taught sour lessons of dignity, self-respect,
Swords, cannons, then bombs of dissent,
We bought him down by the neck, sought was Independence,
But, it was retribution for all the pain back then,
Now, the enemy is far more sly,
Unseen it lingers close by,
Having applied that lotion of technology, it awaits in disguise,
To strike from behind hedges of pretense…

Debaroon’2013

(India celebrates its 66th Independence Day…)

 

 

Image credits: http://24by7news.com

Joker’s Treat!

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Life strolled naked,

Her hour yellow had arrived,

Her luck for the joker’s red smile,

Pity Taps gone dry yet another try,

Dirty rags forgotten,

Forgotten unwashed stained flesh,

Kissed that glass wall,

Rubbed on it some unfortunate stare,

Shooed her away her reality of the day,

Disposed now on tar to decay,

Filth today another hungry rainy day,

Behind that glass a doughnut someday,

The Joker’s treat, a flickering dream from the street,

Untamable ignited barked her desire…

Debaroon’2013

(On a young ill-clad girl, thriving on the streets of Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh, India. She visits McDonald’s everyday before it opens up for customers to try her luck at mellowing down that service boy for something that may be could cost him his job, to hand her out only one and one of that stuff on that big poster, a chocolate doughnut.)

 

Image Credit:

http://www.gnomeplanet.com