Moments Commiserate

The moments commiserate,
Beyond reasonable doubts’ seem.
Lost in the vibe of nostalgia,
Beyond the equanimitys’ seeming reach.

Sooner or later it will begin to hurt,
the reminiscences’ better build shall fall..
Beyond the sweeter reach of hope & save.
& colors of red,orange,green,of all smiles but.
…..To pieces of black & grey, whatever duller it seems.

Taste no good, smells no better, sees beyond the reasonable.
Braced to oblivion, my hopes’ romanticism to tragedy,
And the moments commiserate.

by :vishu mishra
dated : 17 -02-2013

A picture of you..

Dusted off in the closets’ corner,
Gazing out yet Hiding a half,
Found as left but a fold & flappy,
Happily encased like picture perfect.

Like a million words would marinate.
Like a million moments masquerading,
A breathe beholded, a smile slips & blossoms.
& vividly a vivant heart, slowly now it simulates.

unfolding, unflapping, now beholding.
snapped so ago,now reholding.
stilled ,seraphic, that song orchestrates,
I sit , I smile ,I picturize.

a picture of you..

a picture of you..


by :vishu mishra
dated : 14 -02- 2013

The out of business avatar and images

Flying without wings


Flying without wings

U can drop me now, but U cant keep me down,
Love has no parachute, but nor does my fatal will.
& nor does my iron shackles,& not even my poetics’ (sk)ill.

With this tragic jump,alas! laugh like a clown,
& skydiving learned chuteless, alast! weightless like flown.
& now i must pray,if i can fly without wings,
& now i may or not, but must fly without wings.
Drop like a stone,
If! ….
Then let it be.
It must be.

But Sitting silent is now grave,
I do not want it to be.
Incised on my tombstone,
a reason unsaid,
“it was better this”.
Then let it be.
It must be.

Now, Sitting silent in my mind, my grave,
I nod. my conscience applauds.
“Its better this”
Are yet so damn naive, but..

Now, its so clear,
Second by second my horizon is nearer,
& second by second its much more near.
Let the air rush into lungs,
Let the heart pump some real blood.
In all this mess,
It struck my mind so fast, at last…
this fear of defeat now has to go,
& what its like to fly without wings,
I have to know.

by:vishu mishra