The Virus None So Evil

The Virus None So Evil - Amber Blue

Like the world has gone in an endless pause

Like the bruises have been ripped open to some veiled cause,

The spring jaded and gone

and the colours of zeal ebbed away like it never was born.

Marooned with the prayers , cozened from the world ambushed within our own piteous selves

but even summer flunked to resurrect us from the loop of all the wrong amends.

Coveting for the phlegmatic oceans far above the horizons

Or flying solo with the mountains, the raphsody of life whisking in,

Frolicking in the darkest hours, transcending in the drizzles- to enliven, to wizen,

They are now but dreams, dreams enmeshed in the myriad chaos of a naked virus

the plethora of unexplored dreams of delving into the fathomless world

have now dried up , even their warmth no more cajole us.

Everyday soothing the nerves , calming this hysteria

The fear that soars within is too mulish

Funny how trapped with this fear we seem like some insolent pariah.

The Autumn came like a frozen shadow and yet the nature emblazon in her euphoric glees

The scent of festival unfurling in air and yet

We, caged in this maze counting the clock ticking the perils.

Besieged with wry yet travailing to wear the pastel smile

because faith that holds our sails, stalls the blackened fears and

varnishes the rest hundred miles.

But for how long shall this infamously despised virus lampoon us?

For how long the ominous reflections of ‘all that could go wrong’ dog us?

Drunk in the lethal nectar of uncertainty

Is that not a lie to say that, ‘this too shall pass’!

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~The Silences

BY GLADIOLUS AND AMBER BLUE Have you heard them? Heard the bleeding solitude that seems to wait in the forlorn night for her amour? The solitude that over the years has pampered the silences in an esoteric way are growing wild. Have you heard them? Walking along the soft edges of thy holy earth and embracing the despondent darkness you might as well hear them- you might hear the barbourous silences that are screaming the voices of agony. You might hear those silences that would deluge you from within. Have you heard them now? Have you felt them now? Felt how these silences are but the cacophonies of ages old vexation of that solitude, how these are the unheard pain of thy solitude. Have you heard the insane giggles of these silences? Have you felt how that this eerie night where silences are going incongruous are not ending anytime soon!? But the dawn shall knock again and the silences shall turn to melodies again , the euphonies would follow thus and the wrath ...

POETRY COMES ALIVE - BY AMBER BLUE

Poetry is an orphan abundant by the silence and yet it thrives through the odds until it stumbles upon on the pages of a poet. For me, poetry is the manifestation of water and pray tell me why not, for I have seen poetry to reshape itself in the shape of the container in which it is and metaphorical might I sound for what a mind of a poet is if not a vessel of thoughts filled to the brim! As poetry comes frolicking on your pages, the reek of silent emotions caged within the heart vamoose, plethora of chaos begin- chaos that make the heart skip a beat, chaos that unveil your reflection that you were oblivious about- "chaos that come from the highest happiness or the deepest sorrow." Only a poet shall see the agony of the fallen snow or the sacrifice of the withered leaf, only a poet shall capture the phenomenal rendezvous of the dried petal with the rain, or shall make amends in how the stars rule the night in the ataraxy. The poetry finds the lost- it finds the last breath ...

Nobita will be Nobita - Amber Blue

What it is to be talentless you ask? – what it is to walk amidst the crowd of a flawless world being NOBITA!? when even your ripen good old heart does not stand out to be called on the aisle, nobita was rather the antagonist but we are not ready to ruin our childhood, for believing in fairy tales and a 22 nd century robot cat has given the talentless hopes beyond reasons even if they are delusional. Yet, the shakespearen tragedy is not all nobitas have their doraemons! Saving ruffin, the dolphin or protecting RIRURU like some shield hero have soared up the TRPS, but nobita is still our crybaby, just a knucklehead stupid boy helpless without gadgets and parents would still moralize their kids on ‘how you may end up like nobita if you watch him all day’. It is what feels like to be talentless! Either you are born with talent in a silver spoon or you make your own talent to be etched out as examples, those stuck in between are like those trapped in multiple dimensions. Stumblin...

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