Sunday, 25 December 2011

But To Proclaim

Having everything, yet nothing.

Simply gazing along the streets is a pondering pleasure. Commanding colours bustling with character, decorations intricate in their ensemble, intentions clear and deliberate. Lights arrayed in longing lingerings; gleaming under the sun, glancing under the moon.

The stage is set. But there seems to be no play.

The lights emanate without embrace.
The songs sing without spirit.
The city dreams without hope.

They have everything, yet nothing.

I think about him, whom I first met in the bus; hurling fabricate perceptions and presumptions, sparing him with naught… He, of whom, I will never meet ever again, in this lifetime.

I reel in the truth. I stagger in The Truth.

How many more shall wander, before we ponder.

Forgive us, remind us,
‘Tis not to entertain
…but to proclaim.


Friday, 16 December 2011

Early Dawning Of The Season

Am reminded of a time where I was sitting at the cafeteria, where a 3-piece jazz band was merrily belting out Christmas tunes, way before the season arrived. And I remember how the tunes continued to linger in the shadows and under the full moon, as I trotted back to my dorm through the walkways and subways. That moment brought stark realizations on the significance that this season truly brings – nothing less than a hope for all hearts. A hope one must realize.

Early dawning of The Season,
Close knit, yet far sighted.
That jazz trip and song in the shadows,
Lobbying One Hope, and One Light.

A watchful gaze, piercing darkness,
The eye of the night, mesmerizing in fullness.
The sweep of The Spirit,
Soaking, saturating…sequestering silence.

Staring in stark realization,
A clouded conscience, childish chagrin.
The train of temperament, eluding its own path,
And unto its own.

Woeful remorse, within hapless emptiness
I shudder.
For if Thou hasten Thy Hand,
Will I be ready for Heaven.


Monday, 12 December 2011

In Higher Hands

We look around, and we feel small. We see that man with a seemingly flawless business, that lady with the mad piano skills, that dreamer who lives his dream, and we can’t help but feel small. Yet, He holds us in ways higher, ways unfathomable. Ways worth trusting.

Peering within, in light of others,
Nothing but small, bitter, inferior.
Our gifts, nay others a better,
Nevertheless, ordained by thy Maker.

Our Father, in His wisdom and splendour,
Rendereth some stronger, some truly weaker.
Injustice, fear, fill our hearts, a ponder,
But you; O you, held in hands a higher.

Gideon weak, David small, Paul a persecutor,
Peter faltered, Thomas doubted, and Judas Iscariot a traitor.
Joseph young, Rahab a harlot, Moses was a stutterer.
For goodness sake, Lazarus was dead a prior!

Yet, in weakness, God entered the picture,
To fulfilleth His purpose; divine and mightier.
Likewise, in our frailties, though we doubt and anger,
But you; O you, held in hands a higher.


Tuesday, 6 December 2011


The dread of the dreamer,
The friend of the fraud,
The counsel of compromise.

The subtle suppressor.

“How soon “not now” become never..”  – Martin Luther King Jr.

Friday, 2 December 2011

'Twas An Odd Day

I stood in the elevator,
Of twelve people strong.
Six men and six ladies,
Yet I stood above them all.

‘Twas an odd day. 

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

To Know What Lasts

I marvel (in despair) at how we seem so governed by technology, at how it has infiltrated our lives and defined society so indifferently. I recall a time where the electricity tripped in our laboratory, rendering the LAN useless, and how everyone frantically froze, as if their world had crumbled before them. I smiled, (borderline) snickered, sat back and continued reading my good ‘ol paperback. Are we going to allow ourselves to be swallowed deeper and deeper into modern obscurity and forget the values of old which we, as mankind, could once take pride in?

Oh, lead us not into the path, that does not lead to You.

A blip in the board
A flip in the system
Faces froze
As if time had halted.

Many agitated, many clueless
Frantic; gasping helpless
But clocks still ticked, time still ran
Yet life, had stopped living?

Such vulnerability
The governor
Governed by the governee

A momentary lapse
And all things crash?
Oh grant us wisdom
To know what lasts.

- AfterTim-

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

For One To Become

What does it take
For one to become.
Just one mind, one soul,
And one heart that says “I can”.

"History will be kind to me for I intend to write it". -Winston Churchill

Saturday, 19 November 2011

You Disgraceful Front

How long will we allow corruption and foolishness to govern us? Shall we continue to hide in our little shells and allow them to satisfy their insatiable greed? They bloat themselves with what they do not earn, and starve us of rights and parity. Clear as day, yet dark as night. When will we shine our light...

Jester of jesters
Clown of clowns
You ridicule us all
With your insolent vows

Layer upon layer
Your face turns thicker
With conniving greed
And shameless deeds.

You take what is not yours
You fake all open doors
All in the name of self veneration
Oh, so filthy your ways, you arrogant nation!

You hold no divine right
Do you take us for fools?
You disgraceful Front
Justice you will one day confront.

- AfterTim-

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

The Fool

I got the fool knocked into me today
But to my dismay, it felt familiar. 

Monday, 14 November 2011

Life Before The Screen

My heart sinks (and stirs existing strife) on every occasion that I witness different members of families staring into their respective "screens" whilst having a meal together; even the little child. Sitting together, yet miles apart. Shame. And I wonder...

O, life before the screen

Will you desert us completely?

Fade not into our memory

For we need you more than dearly

O, life before the screen

Where letters were stroked to life

Where games were played outside

Where friendships were built with the eyes.

O, where families spoke at every meal

Where children pranced in the greens of fields

Where spines of books were crimpled and creased.

O, where birds tweeted,

Where cookies were eaten,

Where the apple in A was an apple indeed.

O, life before the screen,

Will you desert us completely..


Thursday, 10 November 2011

My First Poetry Guest Post


Just dropping by to inform you that I have a post featured on a blog entitled "Writing Truth" by Diana Harkness, a place where she writes only the truth from her heart on various topics and life experiences. 

Do check out my post here, and do visit her site (linked on my sidebar) from time to time for some comprehensive reviews of her readings and inspiring outlooks on life.

Its been a pleasure and joy for me to have this privilege of guest posting on "Writing Truth". Hope you guys enjoy the read, and looking forward to hearing from you more!


Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Losing The Way

Walking the straight path,
Tracks aligned, perfect symmetry.
Lifeless, soulless,
Limping in reality.

An empty canister,
In the heart of a gale;
Swayed by every nudge, 
Trashed by every gush.

That cunning confidence,
Deceiving blissfully. 
That senseless fool,
Believing indefinitely. 

Step by step
The soul disconnects.
This hollow frame,
Dissolving, decaying…losing the way. 


Monday, 7 November 2011

Be The Change

Days engulfed in quantums,
Time a teasing continuum.
Work. Play. Eat. Boredom.

Days engulfed in quantums,
Time a teasing continuum.
Sick. Death. Starve. Abandon.

One world, yet world’s apart.
The right to complain, shall we beareth on our part. 

Days engulfed in quantums,
Time a teasing continuum.
Love. Give. Share. Bless.
‘Tis our choice and freedom.


Be the change you want to see in the world.” -Mahatma Gandhi

Saturday, 5 November 2011

Wasting Time

Is a noble disguise
To the gravest crime
A man can devise.


Thursday, 3 November 2011

To Roger McGough

Time flies
We're led to believe
But its us that fly
Time sits on its hands
As we rush by. 

-Roger McGough

"His poetry is like a supermodel who can complete a Sudoku puzzle moments before swishing down the catwalk - easy on the eye and smart as a whip." -Lorne Jackson, Birmingham Daily Post.

As contemporary Lorne's quote is in describing Roger McGough's work, Lorne does aptly deliver a point. Regardless, anyone who could capture such immense profoundness and timelessness within five lines is no doubt a poetic genius. 

This generation is being suffocated with mechanical and technological indulgences and being starved of readers and human expressions. It is words like these which preserve the humanity within the ages. 

I thank my best friend for introducing me to his work. Here's to Roger McGough. 

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

From Home

One blink, one breath,
Where was time when it should pass? 
For I arrived at the end,
Only to know the beginning
For the very first time.

Past, present; meeting, merging
Refusing to fade, unwilling to trade. 

Moment by moment, I sort the pieces
Messed, jumbled, fitting, yet insufficient. 
Taking a step back, gazing at the empty,
Have I the right pieces,
Or have I  the wrong plan?

A day gained, a day lost,
To waste not another I must.
So in dark, in deep, with You alone,
For now, I start from home. 


Monday, 31 October 2011

The Rain

You restore, you reinvigorate,
Unstinting; give life.

You destroy, you refrain,
Stubborn; take life. 

Rain O rain,
Thy blessing, thy sting…


Saturday, 29 October 2011

Let Me Fly

Wandering these eccentric streets,
I clamour through seas oblivious.
Trudging through crowds preposterous, as vehicles clamber by - horn to horn, mirror to mirror. 

Relentless. Unforgiving. Unperturbed by surroundings…
Simply set on reaching destinations.

In the eye of the storm…

There I stand.

Unnoticed. Unrecognized. Insignificant. 

I shall crawl with direction, rather than fly without destination.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath…and embrace the unfamiliar.

Lead the way, and I shall crawl. But if allowed I may be, let me fly.


Thursday, 27 October 2011

That Place

A birth ends,
Another begins.
All is remembered, all is forgotten.

From struggle to splendour,
From feeble to forever.
All is remembered, all is forgotten.

Will we learn today
From all whom have, the path, lay.
Will we turn the clocks of yesterday
And have it another way.

To learn to forget,
To learn to remember.
To strive only for That Place,
Where all is remembered, all is forgotten.

(In memory of R. R., 1986-2009)

Wednesday, 26 October 2011


O, what is pride
That we holdeth onto it.

‘Tis as dew naked in the sunlight,
A beautified bouquet, fresh trim’d,
A flame flickering in the roaring rain..

A mere feeble flamboyance;
That withers as swiftly as breeze through our fingers..

O, what is pride
That we holdeth onto it.


“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall”.
Proverbs 16:18

Monday, 24 October 2011

A Shade of T

Weighing these wishful eyes
As they stare into the screen
Sitting atop lacquered beams.

The mind perceives
As it chases what the eyes see
Running further away from me.

I must not permit 
Another one moment
Squandered in torment.

Divine, please intervene. 
Begging Mercy,
For purpose and Eternity. 


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