Shreya Venkataraghavan is a high school student and an aspiring writer. Literature, poetry, music and the arts are amongst her passions. The Poet’s Window is a collection of poems that explore emotion, experience and fantasy.
Š Shreya Venkataraghavan 2016
Desolate In the confines Of this vast cage Lies the cloying story Of a bygone age The heartbeats of a breath The windmills of a scent The imprints of a sky That 'round me did fly... From the streams that Ran beneath my crest-fallen Feet to that laugh in the air That arched out of reach, Oh That downcast day of stormy nights, The pitiful sway of nostalgic sight... For the wind was but more Than an empty soul, And the guardian spirit Was no longer whole... And so In a half-hearted hallucinatory chase We chose to eradicate this unreal space... What futility... Did one but fathom?
Nostalgic Fleetingly despondent seconds... Everything but time Stood still That day, When Nostalgia slipped through Outstretched palms To form chains around The souls of arms Whose hearts did beat Against the cold Bound feet That pressed Unto the blades of stars Whilst breaths burned The dead, black scars That would come To release The blood That would flood The gates Of a heaven That resigned to fates. What is that dawn at the horizon?
Strangely Forever That day, When your face was as foreign as Our unfamiliarity. Why did you just sit there? I tried to take down the curtains to your face, But of this, You were not aware. I wanted you to do the same— To try and take down my curtains, But for this, You did not care. For unfortunately, I was like a lit candle And you seemed to me the chilly breeze, I was like a wildflower And you seemed to me the winter's freeze. Years on, You not only took down my curtains, You demolished my doors. You broke down my walls, And dismantled my floors. I was terribly wrong to label you the things I did, For we built new doors, walls, curtains and all, They will last an eternity— Just, as we did, So long, as we did.
Strangled knots... In the desolate Isolation of emotion Comes a fear Of the unreal circumstance. Words, Fragmented phrases, Spoken somewhat, Yet unheard of... Unheard of by the very minds Off whom they'd sprung, Unspoken of by the souls Off which they thrive... Like parasites, They live on To feed on the unwittingly unwitting Threads Of the bitterly sweet Chaos That you call life.
Enlightened Illusions What is that blur of a horizon? Cleanse the path With empty space, Look deep inside, You'll find a face — Float in an ocean of stars As debris, Until you walk the road of darkness As light. For just as every light descends to dark And every life did stem from root So everything that once was Will rest in the shadows Of our illusions — Why not cast these shadows into the depths of light And the illusions to the invisible grave of visibility?
Within What are these illusions In the corners of the depths of the innocent soul? What are these thin layers of film Consuming our perceptions as a whole? When did such a perishable thing as skin Become more important than strength, character and everything within? Why can’t I long to see a world where what is immortalised Is courage, generosity and a passion for reality That exceeds by far The barriers of superficialityDon’t you see that what is within Cannot be touched by cosmetic surgery Or airbrushed by digital technology Or bought at the will of society? No, Because what is within is much more, Because what is within is only ever to be touched by what is within, Don’t even try to get at it with all your lenses, enhancements and keratin. The only thing that will enhance what is within me Is what is within others, The strength within the people I know, The kindness within the people I've met, And the courage I've seen in people to show, The world who they really are, Within.
Wonderland As man and horse gallop forth, The trees around tower higher, And the vehemence of the whispers of the vines Vanquishes all sound, As though it were fire. The landscape ahead Is veiled in a mist, As deep a blue As midnight on new moon. Rider and horse, Fade into the light, To enter a void. Nothing above, nor nothing below. As they stand, out of nowhere Appears the brush That paints the sky red With quick strokes of flair. It conjures mammoth black trees That reach for them with their branches,
And bloodshot eyes That seem could kill with mere glances. It conjures an army of headless bats and beasts, Relentless in their pursuit of the rider, The horse gallops at full speed, Trotting on air as smooth as a glider. And for years they have run, The horse and the rider, And the army of beasts Do not seem to tire. When time takes the brush, All will fade away, And the horse and the rider Shall see the light o
Friend If I could start, All over again, I wouldn't. I’d keep it right here. I don’t want to revisit the past, I just want to be here. I don’t want to relive the fights and quarrels and days of cold stares, I just want to be here. No, actually, I don’t just want to be here, I want us to be here, Together. Why? Because here is better, Now is better. However cliché this may sound, I have to say, That I can trust you, and you can trust me, I learnt to love you, and you learnt to love me. We forgive each other’s faults, Just as I accept your volatile temper, And you forgive my terrible humour. That’s not to say that we never bicker,
Or fight, or quarrel, Or pick on each other. Indeed we do, But we don’t let that get in our way. Why? Because that’s just me, that’s just you,, And this, Is just, Us, In a friendship that’s one amongst billions of others.