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Escape Poetry

Poetry straight from the heart, warm and pure.

What love is

“What love is” – Mohit Vamsi

27.03.2016

Love is a mother’s selflessness,
how she sacrifices all for her children, day in, day out.
The purest form of love.

It is that glint in your eyes when you meet
a cherished friend from across the country after half an year.

Love is in the shy glances and silly smiles of a first crush,
When the world seems new and the possibilities infinite.

Love is your best friend, your partner in crime, your refuge;
the one you trust your secrets with,
and the one who has your back at all times.

Love is the euphoric feeling when you’ve conquered a mountain,
sailed the seas or crossed a forest.
It is the petrichor on a rainy day,
with the rain drops patterning and the cold wind caressing your soul.

Love is in the calm you experience in the company of your lover,
on a candlelight dinner, on a walk by the sea.

Love is that hot cup of Maggi with friends,
when you’re tired and cold on a long journey.
Those snacks and coffee mom makes for her kids
on nights of exhausting study.

Love is when you paint, dance and sing.
When you play football or just read a book on a summer day.

Love, is also in the pangs of separation,
A friend moving away, a kin no more.
In the inexplicable longing for a special someone,
unrequited,
unanswered.

Love is beautiful and crazy, love is delicate and strong.
Sometimes love might hurt,
Wrench your heart and make everything seem futile.

I only wish to tell you, dear friend.
Never be afraid to love.
Fall in love with your dreams, thoughts, hobbies.
Fall in love with family, friends and people you admire.
Fall in love with the whole world,
Fall in love with yourself.
And if sometime, you feel cheated, defeated in life and all love lost;
don’t give up. Ever.
Just go fall in love again.
Because,
Love is in the little things, and in the grand moments.
It is vast and infinite like the ocean,
It is also small and colorful like a bubble.
Love is where our heart is happy,
It is what we feel when we really live.

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Phoenix

“Phoenix” – Mohit Vamsi

14.2.2016

This planet, needs a better class of humans.
This planet needs thinkers and dreamers and writers,
This planet needs people like you, dear friend.

You,
Are a writer, a dreamer, a fighter, a creator.
And you, dear friend are a Phoenix.
Burn in your passion,
Light up the whole dark world,
Be the lantern, the lighthouse.
The fire of life.
Then rise.
Rise from your ashes,
Reinvent, reincarnate.
Spread your wings and take to the skies.
Fly, fly above the clouds,
Across nations and worlds.
No fences no walls,
There’s no shackles on your ankles,
And there’s no cage to hold you back,

You are pure energy,
Like the fire, bright and brilliant,
Let your words be strong,
And fierce like daggers
Rise above all the oppression.

You,
Are an artist,
The words are your colors,
The pen, your brush,
And the paper your canvas.
Paint away without any care or worries,
Never let the music die,
Don’t ever let the words stop flowing.
Always, keep the fire alive,
For you, my friend, are a Phoenix.

 

 

 

Featured image: © www.cobainaja.xyz

A New Year Tale

“A New Year Tale” – Mohit Vamsi

3.1.2016

The city,
Decked in rainbow colors,
And happy people.
The crowd, all immersed,
In festive spirit and new hope.
People talking, singing;
Laughing and dancing,
For ’twas the New year’s eve.

The girl,
Dressed in red,
Glowing, like the rising sun,
And hair, dark as the eyes of night,
Falling to her shoulders in gorgeous curls.
Butterflies in her stomach,
A tornado of fears and possibilities,
All fighting for attention.
Hidden, under the mask of calm,
And a sweet smile.

The boy,
Dapper in black,
A glint in his eyes,
Brown, like warm dark chocolate.
A tsunami of emotions in his heart,
Desperately trying to find,
The right words to say.
He stood, light-headed,
Knees weak with nervousness,
And a red gladioli in hand.

They,
A pretty pair of love birds,
Two pieces of a perfect puzzle,
Lost in the depths of love’s eyes,
A roller-coaster climb before the fall,
The calm before the storm,
The silence was lovely too.
And then the clock struck midnight.

“I Love You” he whispered
“And I Love you” she smiled.
And they kissed.

There were fireworks in the sky,
An explosion of colors,
Warm, in love’s embrace,
Tiny bursts of sparks spread,
And enveloped them in electrified air.
That precious moment,
It felt like an eternity.
Their souls had met,
In delicate young love.

And that is a tale,
Of new beginnings, promises,
And New found Love.
Indeed, a Happy New Year!

Featured image: ©weheartit.com

Dear favorite person

Dear favorite person” – Mohit Vamsi

26.12.2015

Dear favorite person,
My best friend forever.
You are home to me,
And my place of peace.
Yet you are a cause
Of constant confusion.
Oh how do I say,
That which evades me.
What you are to me,
I cannot put into words.
If only I could pluck my thoughts,
And lay them out for you to see,
Like a garland made of,
The flowers of my mind.
If only you’d allow me,
To bare my soul then I’d do it,
A painting framed and showcased.
I wish for time to be with you
To talk to you of things and stuff.
And what if we have no words to share,
The silence will do just as well.
For being with you is what I wish,
Your warm company,
That reassuring presence
Is life fulfilled,
Dear favorite person,
You are home to me.

 

 

 

Featured image: © www.eblogline.com

People

“People” – Mohit Vamsi

14.11.2015

In this little world,
There are as many kinds of people,
As there are grains of sand on a shore,
Or leaves on a tree,
Or as many drops in an ocean,
And none quite the same.
Some are stars, that glow,
Spreading light and warmth,
Ever burning with energy,
They stand out and shine.
And some are planets,
These are just there,
Doing the same thing,
Year after year,
Round and round and round.
Then there are the satellites,
Even more banal,
Going around in intricate curves,
No way of their own, Bound,
Without any aim or ambition.
Some are comets,
They are fleeting,
Fair weather friends, visitors.
Some are meteors,
A one-time act,
They come and burn, shine and fade away.
Memorable, yet forgotten.
And then the black holes,
Those who suck away,
All energy and light,
And leave you empty and weak.

Who am I? you ask.
I am the all observing,
All including, Never ending, Ever expanding,
Vast, vacant, vivid, vibrant Space.
I observe, understand and remember.
A wallflower, a lantern.

But this is not about them or me.
This is about those pulsars,
And those supernovae,
That every minute, every second,
Explode and radiate,
And create and destroy.
Those wildflowers and vagabonds,
The rapids and waterfalls.
The free spirits, the thinkers,
Like volcanoes and thunderstorms,
They are free, fierce, and formidable.
People who dare to imagine,
Dream beyond the horizon,
And do the impossible.
Those who live in the moment,
And squeeze the joy,
Out of every second that life offers.

They are the best kind of people,
Those are the kind of people I love,
They are the ones that change the world.
They are the ones who truly live.

Featured image: © www.nasa.gov

Come my dear friend

“Come my dear friend” – Mohit Vamsi

22.8.2015

Come my dear friend,
Let’s vanish for a while.
Leave this world,
And all its noise behind.

Let us go some place quiet,
And cool and light.
To a solitary sandy beach,
Or a rocky mountain stretch.

Talk to me about life,
And all its complexities,
How the clouds look familiar,
And the stars form patterns.

Let us dance in the monsoon rain,
And build campfires in the dark forest,
Chase butterflies in the colorful valleys,
And admire the dance of the fireflies.

Why the snow is white,
And night so dark.
Why the good so rare,
And bad everywhere?

Let us together untangle,
This bundle of thread called life,
And find answers to what,
Our purpose on this blue globe is.

Come my dear friend,
Let’s vanish for a while.
Let the world succumb to its troubles,
Together, we can be infinite.

Featured image: © petapixel.com

Her Martian Love

“Her Martian Love” – Mohit Vamsi

21.8.2015

Gazing at the night sky,
The roads of earth she roams
Searching for her Martian love,
Amongst the starry heavens.

They’d dreamt of a magical home,
Decked with stars and filled with warmth.
Alas they weren’t truly free,
There was this thing called society.

They said theirs was forbidden love,
Condemned them. Separated them.
And thought they’d succeeded,
Such superficial people were they.

Beings of the universe,
Their love was eternal,
Beyond races and realms,
Across space and time.

Gazing at the night sky,
The roads of earth she roams.
She’d rather be with him in space,
For without him the earth was just as bare.

Featured image: © www.telegraph.co.uk

This place we live in …

“This place we live in…” – Mohit Vamsi

9.8.2015

No place for young men this,
No place for truth and love.
No place for free men this,
No place for freedom.

I ponder, I wonder,
Ruminate and deliberate.
I still have no answers;
What do I make of this place?

There are masks everywhere,
Actors and disguises,
And curtains and stages.

Brimming with spies and eavesdroppers,
and hate spreaders and rumor mills,
Social shackles, religious roadblocks,
cultural carnage, societal stupidity.
Objectifying, judgmental, hypocritic puppets all,
An elite class of educated illiterates.

Attention seekers, fashion followers,
and hordes of opinionated ignorants.
Criteria conformers, money minters,
successful discontented ideal people.

Dream massacrers, wish wreckers,hope hunters,
Stereotyping, differentiating, biasing, depriving.
Blind observers, mute protesters, deaf protectors.

White lies, illusions; contradictions.
Learn to lead, but follow the crowd.
Be unique, do what the others do.
Do what you love, but fulfill their dreams.

I find myself in a quandary,
All this is such a mystery.
Is there an Omni competent instruction book?
Or is it all just chaos and randomness?

Call me naïve or say I’m foolish,
I’m young here and I’m confused;
I try real hard, in vain.
I do not understand the workings of this world.

Maybe I’m lost,
Or am living in a weird dream that makes no sense.
Either way, this is the only place I can call home,
And I’m scared of its residents and rules.

The worst part,
It feels like I’m becoming one of them.

Featured image: © Auguste Rodin’s sculpture, The Thinker. satima.org

If for a moment

“If for a moment…” – Mohit Vamsi

11.7.2015

If for a moment,
You think of me as a quill,
That had a heart which pumped,
Ink in place of blood,
And it flowed in my veins and arteries,
A quill with vibrant feathers,
Made of my dreams of the nighttime,
If words and thoughts,
Were my life and soul,
And the purpose of my being,
Was only to write;
Then in this moment,
I’m one of the living dead,
With no life or soul,
My veins devoid of blood,
A faded feather with stains of ink,
Drifting away into nothingness

Featured image ©: www.deviantart.com

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