The Poetry Marathon

It has atlast been proved beyond doubt
That earth is flat
What a victory for our flat-earth societies!
As the president of the world’s largest flat-earth society,
I had the privilege to be the first
To peep down and look what lurked underneath
Bursting with self-importance, I looked upon the round-earth societies
And looked down
What I saw gave me a heartattack and I tumbled down to my death
Alas! I could not tell the flat earth
What I see…

In morning’s gentle light, I rise with the sun,
A daily routine, a rhythm, begun.
With coffee’s warm embrace, I start the day,
To chase my dreams, in my own unique way

Through hours that follow, tasks neatly align,
A dance of duties, a life so defined. But in this routine, I find my own grace,
Each day a new canvas, a chance to make a painting new

Life is an interplay of shadows and light
A lot of times the black clouds seem to overwhelm the sun
But a tiny, silvery ray called hope shines through,
Guiding our lost souls back in to the action ring
Rekindling the embers of dying dreams in our breast
In the canvas of our setting sun, glimmering hope paints the image of a new dawn
Every step that hope inspires you to take, you rise above your fears,
Finding strength and love

In this world, I wake up with the sun
And go to sleep in the company of moon and stars
The days are filled with mirth and laughter
The humans, birds and animals live together as one community
No throats are slit, no gas chambers for anyone
Food is what nature grows in abundance
But Hark! This world exists only in my head
In the real world, I am just a parrot
With clipped wings in a golden cage..

Out you damn thing, out you fear!
You are just a four-letter word
And yet you take on gigantic proportions

You spread your tentacles everytime I begin new
Out you damn thing, out you fear!
You make me lose even before I can try

But I am more stubborn than you are
I will fall down, lose, but will always get up again
Out you damn thing, out you fear!

Harshib doesn’t need air but only foot ball to breathe
But alas his physique and intentions don’t match
His team has christened him as ‘the stick’
And everyday, he comes home badly bruised, mauled and fouled
That night as he wiped silent tears and went to sleep
He saw a vision in his dreams
A kind goddess bestowed magical powers upon his football
He woke up that day, all excited and eager
To find out if it was really a vision or a waking dream
He waltzed his way into the football field
At the end of practice, a triumphant Harshib walked out
Gloating at the star players of him team
Lying injured, their pride hurt more than their bodies
This happened every day; Harshib scored goal after goal
He was unstoppable until his captain detected foul play
And changed his ball for another; the little hero froze
He was called out but a little voice spoke in his ears
“The power lies within you; unlock!
A sharp breeze blew, he saw his magical football dancing in the air
Empowering him, encouraging him, ” You go mate!”
Harshib closed his eyes and gave it all he had
“Goal! And what a goal, Ronaldo will be proud!
Screamed their coach, his team mates patted his back
Harshib found his eyes watering, he realised
The power lies in you, you just have to have faith
Work hard and then the magic begins…!

“I want pizza I want pizza”
Screamed every pore of my being
My pudgy hands reached for the phone
I almost dialled the pizza place
When the stool I sat on groaned in protest
And crumbled for my weight is no joke!
I sat sprawled on the floor, splinters on me
And the phone in my hand
The head said I needed to dial for a gym subscription
The heart said ‘Carpe diem’
And I did just that and ordered an extra large veggie pizza
With extra cheese!

beet
jacket
tremor
bayou
elbow
lightbulb
cinnamon
bucket
elk
carport

Her cheeks were *beet* red as determination became her
She owned it was never easy to leave your comfort zone
And start from the scratch
She could do this, thus assuring herself
She donned a life *jacket*
Filled a *bucket* with odds and ends, including tools, *lightbulbs* , knickknacks And swinging it over her shoulders,
Ran to the *carport* and unlocking her beloved Mercedes, Extracted her lucky charm bracelet and favourite perfume
With *cinnamon* and floral notes
She ran to a sleek boat that was waiting for her in the *bayou* adjoining her island
Before she stepped in, she felt a tug at her *elbow*
It was a wild *elk* that she had saved when it was an infant
And now often followed her for treats
She kissed it goodbye and took a last look at her old world
A tremor of uncertainity and fear gripped her for a few seconds
Sighing deeply, she tossed her head and sat in the boat
Life herein would be difficult but it would be her journey; good or bad…!

Running away from her fears and responsibilities
She finds herself in a faraway land
Where nightingales sang delightfully
And the weather was always pleasant
Here everyone lived in harmony and no one needed to work
But as days flew by, she missed the pile of work
And the rush of adrenaline and the smell of fear
Her hands twitched and her legs itched
And picking up her billowing skirts, she took off from paradise
To embrace back her imperfect world
For now she had found her calling
She would excel in what she knew best; that was running!

I wish I could describe the place where I live
I should probably call it a…house?
Yes yes, the place where we live ought to be called a house
But will you still describe it as one
If it is halfway to being one?
Has been so for many years now
There are rooms, yes; too many of them
Curtains too many, to keep the world from knowing what goes on in here
Furniture everywhere with no actual value nor aesthetic sense
It exists just like us, the inhabitants of this house
The outside is as messy, as purposeless as the inside
Overgrown hedges and wild flowers
But still this is my house and my home
Cold and without semblance but still where
I will always be welcome and always feel at home…