Saturday, February 9, 2013

A poem

Once I was having a sleepover with two of my best friends. Quite late into the night, when both had slept I grabbed a book, my MP3(It always gives me inspiration to write) and a leftover piece of chocolate. Wrapping a blanket around myself I started to think what to write. I knew very clearly what it was going to be but i am not very good with poems. But the idea would lose its essence if it was not a poem. I was debating whether or not to ask one of my other best friend who is a good poet to write it for me. But then inspiration struck. I scribbled down whatever came into my mind before it disappeared. Only problem I had to name it same as the blog. I think it is a good poem compared to my others. So enjoy!

                                                      Cascades Of  Dreams
                                                                                       - By me

The haunting flow of dreams goes on                                                                                                                                                                                                                 It brings back memories I try to drown.                                                                                                                                                                                                   Those days of fear and suppression,                                                                                                                                                                                                               When they told you that you wouldn’t fly,                                                                                                                                                                             Where they tried to sever your wing,                                                                                                                                                                                              But when the cascade flows it can’t be                                                                                                                                                                                                         Stopped, as it goes on and on                                                                              
When you plunge into the river                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Know that it never pauses, never stops.                                                                                                                                                                                                          Know that there is nothing to hold on to.                                                                                                                                                                                      To survive you better know how to navigate                                                                                                                                                                  Through the turbulent waters of life                                                                                                                                                                                             Despite the callous weeds of misery puling you down                                                                                                                                                         For it brings up times you would disregard.                                                                                                                                                                                                    As the cascade flows on.                                                                                             

So 'slán'. (Irish)


  1. Sorry but the poem is not coming in proper order. please cope with it

  2. I am not fond of poems that don't rhyme. But here I see a strong, emotional concept. I can understand, I can relate & I can see what your mind was doing here.
    This is very good writing. I just want to know who told you that you're not very good with poems. Because they lied.

    1. Nobody told me that i was not good with poetry. Its just that I never bothered much with poems and am damn pessimistic. Plus i only have another poem which went like
      When the rain clouds frown
      Several cities drown
      When the sun's on fry
      Everything goes dry

      I wrote that when i was something like 8.


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