I talk about nothing in particular and everything too?

I've written two new poems in the presence of utter boredom. I also had the opportunity to start reading Milton's Paradise Lost and it is amazing how well the words flow despite the fact that they had been written centuries prior. Maybe, one day I'll be as good as him :) Future The future holds much In its grasp  Vast and unthinkable  In its depth and mystery The singsong voice Of lessons being learnt The scratching of pens And the turning of pages The cheers of youth Ah! Wonderful and joyous Freedom seemingly boundless Coming to an end  The wail of a Babe Responsibility approaches More to lose  Than ever before Groan of bones Tired and weary Wrinkles and aches Ready for the end And then there remains Nothing, but silence  Only broken by the breathing  Of those alive and living                                                  Aby Steel yourself Steel yourself in armour Bright and shining For now is the hour This time is most trying Wield your blade Sharp and quick  Unless y

  Alright, I know it's supposed to be long form post but it's coming soon...I think. This poem is dedicated to my mother, it would be more fitting on mother's day or something but let's just consider this as an advance gift for next year. In the eyes It is in the eyes I tell you, Misty wells of sorrow Brow knitted and furrowed Moist and wet Happiness to be found yet Your sadness It is in the eyes I tell you, Blue skies with swirls of clouds Yellow sandy beaches with crowds Clear streams and bright flowers Night sky abounding in stars Your joy It is in the eyes I tell you, The envy and injustice Stare and glare, cold as ice Grip tight and squeezing Until removed of all feeling Their malice It is in the eyes I tell you Soft words, unafraid Resolute to provide  Will stronger than any Suffer more than many Your kindness It is in the eyes I tell you, Untold sacrifices none spoken of Even when the going got tough Only caring more Strong to the core Your love                  

Yeah, yeah I know this is a lot of poems but rest assured the next few posts are going to be more long form. Words Words are of many kinds  All sorts you may find  Some are spiteful  Yet others are gentle to the core  Like a bomb with a short fuse  They are hurled and used  To burn,maim and hurt  Striking deep into the heart  Like a cool breeze  That caresses and eases  To love,nurture and care With words so sweet and fair  So take care and heed  The words you feed  To the ears of your peers  Lest they create fear and tears  And fester hate and despair                                                                     Aby

Recently my uncle passed away, this is the first death of a family member that I actually knew and therefore it's whole new territory for me. We were prepared because he had been struggling with prostate cancer for a while in its last stages and he had refused to take any form of chemotherapy, and yet I couldn't quite believe the news myself and sat for a bit- almost lightheaded. I recalled a few moments of him, laughing and patting me on the back, he had his own skeletons in his closet but he tried to make the best out of his situation. I felt a strange sense of emptiness knowing that he was now gone. This poem was inspired by him and I can only hope that it will do justice to his memory The Reaper's Travels I'm known for my visits Many of them I make  All around the world Unfortunately unwelcome I am For I never leave without taking Flowers, beasts ,bees and birds Even you I will one day meet Worry not I won't stay long We will take a walk together At the end of i

I've been getting more opportunities to write poems here and it helps that there's a great balcony at my current residence with a great view. So here's one of those poems  Nomad A Nomad in a caravan I am Travelling from place to place From deserts to lush fields and forests  Meeting many strange faces Tireless and without rest A Nomad in a caravan I am I know no building as my home For the world itself is my abode No wealth, not knowledge of tomes Yet I'm happy, considered as odd A Nomad in a caravan I am Much I have missed in life surely? Yet, even more I have gained  Blood means nothing to family I have family around the world Who've stayed through thick and thin Can you say the same Of your kith and kin? A Nomad in a caravan I am Happy as can be                                                         Aby