The road looked alluring, I was all excited
and off I set on my journey
adapting to the changes that came along,
then appears the question — what is the point?
The many deviations I encounter
despite adapting to the new circumstance
nothing is forever
then, what is the point?
No matter how hard I try
one day I am to die
and set on another journey
then, what is the point?
The sceneries I enjoy
the relations I cherish
transient this life is
then, what is the point?
What is the point when impermanence is the only stability this…
in the folds of an old letter from a friend,
or between the pages of a book hiding in the shelf,
in the stories grandpa once told,
or the giggles shared between the sisters long ago,
my heart breathes the sillage of happiness
as the memories surface at the oddest of moments
happiness, a collection of memories to look back to,
not an event to look forward to
littered with the fragments of memories
I carry around a treasure trove of eudaimonia in my heart!
This poem is inspired by the prompt word ‘Eudaimonia’ which is often…
An alien, I am to this keyboard
my fingers once performed their tap dance on this very keyboard,
now they fumble at them as though their memory is blurred
there is not even a strange familiarity that ripples through once in a while
the muse lingers for a moment before it is wiped out,
nothing is familiar
other than this strange sense of loss
Wandering amidst the wisp of musings that never waits around for me to catch up I am floating as an afterthought — insignificant invisible waiting to find my way back to the keyboard to fill the…
I have been blogging for more than seven years now. I don’t know how many posts I’ve published so far. I don’t keep track of them. There are more of those scribbles living in my notebooks.
Is it ever possible to keep track of all that a person writes? All those thoughts that flash and vanish; the traces of which might appear on a piece of paper. How can you count them!
In my writing journey, I’ve met quite many beautiful souls. In the beginning, it felt unusual — to connect with someone somewhere just like that. All that was…
When words fail me,
when thoughts deceive me,
when I feel abandoned,
I find solace in the company of words.
I pick up my pen and jot down my thoughts
in times of agony and distress.
I pick up my pen and follow my musings
when I am bubbling with happiness.
I pick up my pen and trace my emotions
when my heart is filled with gratitude.
Writing is my companion in sickness and health.
This journey with words makes me feel alive and safe.
Yet sometimes I find myself alone without the accompaniment of words — to express, I…
A lover of words, a blogger, a writer who loves stringing words together & adoringly calls them poems. https://vinithadileep.com