The rainfall cloud.

1.
     
        all
    is      in                          scatter
It              vap-          , the           in       -densed ,
vapour.            -ours                       con-              and      be heavy
to                                                                              it will              ,heaving
 fall                                                                                                           to fall,
      tears                                                                                                      but
           of                  until       dense      wander    .stall          shall           the
              brim      the       mist         with           So       never          wind
                     last
2.
t           c          b          a           o      f             a       h                    l      L         l       r
h          l            u           n          f       e            n         a        m       i      o        i       a
e          o            r          d                    a          g        v           y       f      v         k     i
            u            s                 c               , r        u         e                  e.    e        e       n
            d              t,               a          p             i                f                         b           c
                    h                        s          a              s              l                           u           l
                     a                       c           i             h               o                          r          o
                       s                       a          n,                          o                          s           u
                                                d                                      d                           t          d
                                                   e                                     e                                     s.
                                                                                             d

Pale Sunshine

There is a pale sun
some distance away,
about eight minutes
in a go cart race.
it's warmth is what fills my heart,
the sunshine gilded on a hopeless face
it eludes me in the mist, in clouds.
and it's rising have never seen,
I walk to a subtle sunset
and it hides inside the paler greens.
I catch the trace of it's warm rays
always so near
eight minutes away.
warned me of it's severe heat
Its burning and so you will be,
scalded is far fine than frost
that it's evasion has kept me.
I walk with the dampened glow
I walk away as i do know
the sun is still far from reach
and the sunshine is not here to stay
about eight minutes,
that's miles away.

Delay

Death, mercy should have played by now.
there at the brink stands a pawn
and await a Zugzwan .
and you should have been the man.
and driven the daggers through,
The first the last and spared move.

Parentheses Poetica

I talk in verse, my words may be the ramifications of what my mind rejects and what my heart chooses to keep to self, but verses, they define me. Poetry is abstract sometimes, impish and bold at other instances but it invariably eludes the common sense.It requires a depth , an abyss to fill. It is open to perception but is never keen on deception.It is elusive but not delusive.

A direction, a subtle hint might just leave the traces to the path it takes. The parentheses to verses are words themselves and they have struggled to keep up with the abstract quality in verses. It could ruin the essence , the taste if the lines between the absolute and the perceived are not blurred. The apparent may or may not be the truth. The conviction with which we put bold words and delimit them between the brackets could come from a belief  that the self has imbibed from the surroundings. Hence the parentheses are too defined in fewer words. Barring my earlier interactions , words in my posts have diminished to verses or to few abstracts extracted from the apparent. hence the name 'Parentheses Poetica'.  

Consideration

Spontaneity urges me to pen this thought down. Hence it is my own, Stemming from the authenticity that is much branched, twisted and debated. I write today with the absolute indifference that I hold towards the 'other'. Neither my despise, nor my delight reconfirm my thoughts today. Should I even label these thoughts as thoughts? NO. They are merely the ingrained instincts that have overflowed to fill in the void.

In emptiness have I realized what fulfills me . My essence or my existence? It defies it all today. The theories the philosophies all kept at the brink of understanding. this is just as I am.I write and I write, Not merely words that spot a blank page but engraved inscriptions of my being. Is there anything at all that I have put to consideration? the norms , the belief, the questions, the doubts.Now I pause.

Why? this pause breaks it all. I  am tempted to label it as authenticity still. The Frommean way exists. It says consideration would also lead to the same conclusions.I doubt. The seed of Consideration plants the weeds that rot the oak of all my belief.

Nullified

Insignificance, I'll be.
what is the worth of none to none?
what is it's worth to me?
insignificance, 'i'll be.