THE LOVE WAS POSTMODERN

Like it had been,
The melodrama, that it was,
Was not so sweet
As it was made to be,
The love was postmodern,
And was discreet

The lines were blurred,
The tradeoffs made clear
With the hindsight scripted,
It then had some smear
The sophist saw it near,
Wrote the end of drama then
The existentialist was hit finally,
A soul was deeply violated when..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

SUCH DECISIONS WERE NEVER FOR YOUR OBEISANCE

If possible,

Don’t let there be,

The moment of such decisions,

Imposed on you, selfishly,

Inflicting and demanding,

With no care for you,

Having no thoughts of you,

See where your peace is,

Find the harmony of your soul,

O’ life, know where your spirit is,

Don’t listen to such decisions,

Yes, you cared for,

But such decisions,

Were never for your obeisance,

What if,

Your thoughts still go back,

What if,

Your thinking still comes to a silence,

If possible,

Don’t pain yourself anymore,

Don’t hurt your peace anymore..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

GAMES LIFE PLAYS – HOW RECKLESS A LIFE CAN BECOME..

‘How reckless life is?’
Vs
‘How reckless a life can be?’ 

— The games the existence plays with the identities..

— Silly pursuits of life when the spirit of living was staring at death..

— And life recklessly made you love the fatalist in you..

— And you recklessly followed the fictions of life..

‘The games that were to be played differently.’
Vs
‘The games that were not to be played.’

— How reckless a life becomes..

— Mutilating its own soul while playing with others..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/

GOING THROUGH THE CIRCLE OF LIFE..

Going through the sea-side
When,
I had seen the winding light
I had seen the slipping delight
For,
It had taken away some shades of twilight

Going through the road-side
When,
I had heard the screaming night
I had felt the waning light
For,
It had added some darkness to the might

Going through the open blue sky
When
I had seen the words go fly
I had heard the letters cry
For,
It had made their destinies dry

Going through the circle of life
When
I find the unreason so wide
For oft,
I witness the wisdom lay astride
For,
Unreason and wisdom often be at strife
Going through the circle of this life..

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/