An autobiography of an Aeroplane
the autobiography of a plane is a poem in which the sorrows of an unused plane is described
How much you like an airplane?
In the child hood days we all were so interested in airplanes. When it flies over our head, its was like a huge bird with glittering wings. We look at it like something that cam from the sky. We all want to touch it, and fly it. We use to build planes from paper and throw it see how much it can go higher. We compete each other in class to know whom can fly it higher the most. It is the same thing that evoked when we entered into a plane in the first time. It is same feeling that made us feel wow when we saw the sky from above at the first time. The same feeling when we landed at the airport and feel the jerking of airplane. Still, you are in the same feeling as you read these lines…..The same curiosity…
I need to write a poem.
But Adam knows how.
He was my pilot and my brother
Well, now a day it is really difficult,
for me to write one.
Harder lines were,
flying over my head.
“Ones upon a time
there was Stubborn airplane,
which grow older,
could run for only an hour.
Things were good at,
the beginning and toward,
bubbly journeys”.
The last 40 years of service since
it was better to stop before they say stop.
Waited very long for hearing a policy
and I am having real pain.
See, I had worrying memories,
and the new born beat me.
Credit: airplanes-port.blogspot.com
I just had a few days,
and started to count time to my death.
Under the blue sky I talked to myself
Who are going to replace me?
May years just doesn’t wash my merits.
Wonder what will happen next
Am I substandard today?
An autobiography of an Aeroplane
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| Credit: airplanes-port.blogspot.com |
Under the Skin
So be it
I am really ashamed of being a jerk sometimes
Unfortunately I am what I am
The real people or friends who made me,
The real man, inspired me to think,
Slowly slowly tilted, changed the perspectives,
Made the mirror of trust broken into pieces
I do not why I am being depressed,
When they broke the trust, but
The mirror was in my heart
This was the last thing I wanted to hear about,
This was the last thing I need to realise
This was the last thing I want my eyes to see
Let us imagine a world with trust, happiness, and prosperity
Let us imagine a world with absolute dignity, freedom, and hope
However, this world is not just a fantasy world,
Where people become magicians and rabbits,
Come under the same hat as always,
When we say ABRA CADAVRA
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| Credit: mandapandar.deviantart.com |
But this world is not just fantasy
And if it is fantasy, I will call it lunatic
When your close friends dismay you,
When they take revenge silently like a snake,
When they justify their actions by shouting at your mistakes,
When all other friends, including moderator blames you,
for what you have done in the past and present,
when everybody is happy except you,
they offer a deal of compromise, of friendship, of a new dawn
Are you deaf, blind, disabled?
I acted as deaf, blind, disabled,
I tried to forget all they have done, but
They repeatedly do it again and again,
Making me jealous, how can they do it
I am also a human being, and I didn’t learn to do these consciously,
I am selfish, I am inconsiderate but I have a good mind with a
Sense of inclusiveness
But this is like piercing the fork through your skin,
Reach up to muscles and finally to your born
I am confused what I have to do,
When I have to do
I am not having a clear plan about it.
But I am sure unless they prove that they are valuable to me,
Unless they work out themselves,
Unless they want to be my friends,
I will not consider them and I will not sacrifice anything for them too
A word is word that can hurt people, make others cry and console them too
So be it and be it..
Raise Sails to Travel
The poem explains about philosophical search of God. It states what is God and the perspectives about God.
The winds of God’s grace
Today when i look back,
i had a kick that can pick,
my shoes of Vangog.
The first lines in philosophy class,
who is god?
43 students stood up and looked face to face
43 cultures ,43 beliefs, 43 minds
but the answer came from a boy,
who we teased a lot,
“God is a Mirror …it is you and us”
my innate sanctum untouched,
waiting and longing for the burial.
see what it says to you,
Hear the noise deep down in the heart.
i slept under a boat in the beach,
where the shores lied down
i left,
waiting for a new dawn,
listening the the changing mood of the sea.
I still believe if i am a Pirate of the Carribean,
I may take all the precious pearls
and sell it for the happiness on just one moment.
The winds of God’s grace are always blowing,
it is for us to raiser our sails.
