This is where our journey begins.
When the Wall finds you
A breath tight in your chest, Echo of failure laughs at your best —
You are pushed to the wall, And you think you could fall
Trust, the wall is not where it ends, it’s where broken edges learn to bend.
No space behind, no steps to retreat, only the pulse of your own heart’s beat.
So forward you go — not out of choice, but led by the fire of an inner voice.
For courage is born where comfort dies, and hope is the fist that never unties.
When the wall finds you, stand tall, not small — for the only way now is through it all.
When you’re pushed to the wall, you think you could fall,
There’s nowhere to hide, no doors to escape, no cracks to slide —
that’s where the truth begins to unfold: you move ahead, fierce and bold.
The wall isn’t the end, it’s the test, a mirror that shows your stubborn best.
You gather your scars, your breath, your will, and turn that pressure into skill.
Because when life leaves no space to crawl, you learn to rise, to break, to brawl.
And every time you hit that wall, you push harder — and watch it fall.
Karma is my doll; I live with her each waking day.
She moves in quiet circles round my life, while I just watch her play.
I do my deeds, both small and wide, and Karma settles by my side.
I trust her hands to hold my fate, a patient friend who’s never late.
Days go by while I sit by the fence, seeking a ray through the sun’s bright lens.
Warmth spills freely, more than a few pence,
till comfort turns to heat that stings the sense, a roaring beast in a forest dense.
Karma is my blaze too, a lesson wrapped in searing hue.
Because we cherish stars at night, we weigh the day in equal light—
both shadow’s chill and noon’s delight.
One day my Karma led me to a hill,
where air was sharp and time stood still.
I climbed through highs and dipped through lows,
felt mountain wind against my nose.
I saw the sky, a fearless blue,
and every leaf washed bright and new.
The green was never just one shade
some tender pale, some deeply laid,
some turning brown, their journey done,
brave on the earth, still facing sun.
I thanked my stars for all I’d seen—the aching feet, the scratches keen,
The scars the whispering branches gave as I walked the woodland, bold, brave, but unseen
Every night with shifting light, my choices glowed, both wrong and right.
Karma is my only doll; I live with her in rise and fall.
She does her work, I walk my way, planting seeds in common clay.
I do my deed in every stride, and Karma keeps her place beside.
I trust the path that we have made to guide me through in finest grade.
For some, Karma cuts and bites, a bitter name in darker nights.
For me, she’s soft—a guiding soul, who shapes the tunnel, not the hole.
I love my deeds, imperfect, true; they stitch my courage, thread it through.
And as I leave each tested wood, I walk ahead in a brave bright hood
Hand in hand with my watchful doll, Me living my Karma, owning it all.
Silence so loud, yet gentle and clear,
it softens the edges of everything here.
In the space where no harsh echoes roam,
the heart finds a whisper that feels like home.
Silence so loud, it brightens the mind,
a canvas of stillness where answers unwind.
In the hush after storms, when the noise has all gone,
new courage awakens and quietly dawns.
Silence so loud, it sings of release,
wrapping tired souls in blankets of peace.
In that wide open quiet, where worries fall through,
the world feels gentler—and so do you
Just because you glimpse a fleeting smile’s curve
doesn’t mean it never grazed a raw nerve.
The ache I carry rarely finds my lips;
too many coins hang waiting mid‑air flips.
Falling to earth was never my best hour,
yet life on sand must not turn into scour.
The sun still cloaks the dust in quiet gold;
I move in warmth, still hoping to be told.
Have mercy—let this shifting, fragile land
not harden into torture where I stand.
I close my eyes; blank space is all I see.
Hope soars, then sinks into one tear from me.
I face the night, its windy, tuneless dark,
and strain to hear one scornful, saving lark.
Sing, O lark, and wake the hidden flame
before each path burns black in sorrow’s name.
The waves seem lost, unsure which shore to take,
which weary heart they’re meant to soothe or break.
The embers fade from long‑spent, blackened wood,
the ashes fall where no one understood.
Yet somewhere still a quiet ember glows,
a secret light that only one heart knows—
a stubborn star no storm can bend or dim,
a hidden fire that burns for me within.
A hand to meet my hand, a reach when I reach,
a heart that keeps its rhythm beside mine.
A feeling almost holy—
a life within my life, a place I’d gladly stay forever—
the shelter we once imagined and stitched from shared dreams.
It shimmers all around me, yet never quite belongs;
I taste its sweetness, but it never settles home.
I walk beside its current, but it won’t match my stride;
it drifts ahead, unaware that I am here at all.
Give me a dream I can truly live inside.
Day after day, loneliness finds its way in;
I speak in open sentences you never seem to hear.
I keep on moving, yet arrive at the same old spot;
the world keeps shifting scenes while I stand still.
This is no dream—yet somehow, this is the life I’m living.
Sometimes, some things come so unbearably close—
one touch and they vanish, bubbles in the sun.
The brief bright life of a bubble:
is that the water you are chasing?
I’m weary of watching you swell and burst—
is that the fragile dream my heart is seeking?
For many, it is daily truth; for others, a burning want;
for some, a distant dream on the horizon.
Reality is savoured, desire keeps the engine running,
and life itself feels like a dream you can only partly hold.
And still, believe this: with you beside me,
even that elusive dream could finally come true.
I live one day at a time,
I dream one dream at a time
Yesterday's dead, Tomorrow's blind,
And I live one day at a time!
There is a swallow flying across the cloudy sky
Searching for a patch of sun so high,
Don't ask how long I have to follow him
Perhaps I will in time, I shall remain, cuz!
I live one day at a time, I dream one dream at a time
Colours are what I carry in my sling,
A life far away from my nest is what I sing
Take life on life's terms, live by ethics, avoid rules,
Take, One day at a time,
While doing, colour the dreams,
live the song and play it in your little ring,
A song, one day at a time!
..inspired Joan Baez
A world where nothing is had for nothing,
Grace is within, Knowledge is bought in market,
Love is shared in bits, truth is something,
Living in the world, where nothing is had for nothing.
Love frails, truth faints,
Still, as I mused in my empty room,
I found a corner of togetherness,
I laugh, for hope has happy place with me,
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths,
In feelings, not skin, in air, but in stealth,
A thought is deeper than all words,
A feeling is deeper than all thoughts,
Listen to the wild waves playing,
We know enough to trust, that all is best,
Swaying in some memory, faith is put to rest.
O I remember the snow dark night,
the only warmth was your feel,
Your eyes, the twinkle, Infinite passion, and the pain,
Aw, pretty page with a dimpled chin,
Such were the words, you never uttered,
Now the play is done, curtains dropped sly,
Feather of the same bird, love a lie, live a lie.
If we are only as potter’s clay,
Made to be fashioned as potter wills,
And broken into shards, if we decide to dream,
Dreams went to pieces all at once,
All at once, just as the bubbles do when they burst.
Life’s but a means unto an end; that end,
Beginning begins with an end to the lie, that mirage blends,
Living in a world, where nothing is had for nothing,
Alas, the moment never ends..
A smile is more than a curve on a face;
For some, they are colours that keeps the heart in place.
a day unsmiled is a day unlived, for some, For some that is a hope of happiness to come.
She yearned to leave a trail of happiness when gone,
So she loosened her grip and let her brood move on.
Stepping back, she saw her nest from a higher zone,
Spots ready for roses she had quietly grown.
Green was just one chapter in nature’s book;
There were colours waiting if she dared to look.
An open mind was the door she feared to seek,
Afraid that change would make her weak.
But confidence returns when challenge is allowed in,
And every brave step is a small, bright win.
She learnt that to conquer any gentle crusade,
The heart must say “yes” where fear once stayed.
She found a new way of living in play:
No longer fearing green turning brown one day.
She welcomed the pink that danced on the brink,
And a shy little blue with a mustard wink.
Colours became her unexpected joy,
Each shade a promise, a luminous toy.
We may argue in black, or retreat to white,
Think in grey, yet crave colour for light.
Pink made her tender, purple turned her curious,
Brown brewed comfort when days felt furious.
Red stirred her soul like a steady fire,
Fuel for the climb through life’s long mire.
And so she chose to live fully, not just survive—
Wearing her confident smile, vividly alive.
She remembered the easy confidence of her smile,
Living lightly, walking her own mile.
Loose ends amused the wandering few,
But she was never one to join that crew.
One dawn she woke to find her nest ruffled,
Leaves disturbed, their quiet order shuffled.
They hung there tired, some brittle and dry,
And the fear of losing green made her cry.
She watched the sky and questioned the sphere:
“Is this nature, or a storm drawing near?”
Once she vowed to keep all things fresh and new,
Years later she knew dew does not always renew.
One evening she saw a woman clearing space,
Throwing old weight from a cluttered place.
She learnt that living is a careful craft,
You cannot breathe each day behind a muffled draft.
For craft to bloom as art, she’d face some gruff,
The world had more to give—if she made room for new stuff.
What rested unused would be put to the test;
Old shapes could shift to fit her growing nest.
What worked yesterday might not fit today,
And that is natural—not a reason for dismay.
There are trees everywhere with fresh greens to discover,
If only one looks closely at the forest’s quiet coffer.
One day I felt I found you,
I was happy that finally you are here.
The day was mesmerising, thoughts resplendent,
every time I touched you, I felt heaven.
So hard to believe that you are true,
so hard to accept that I found you—
smiling at myself, my shadow dancing ahead of me.
Every time I saw you, I saw peace;
the day went by, it was more promising.
Gripped by the oasis of hope,
expecting you to be real, I thought ahead of time.
Every time I thought of you, I felt complete;
the day ended, you seemed mine,
leaving me waiting for another day, a moment to shine.
Mirages have become the reality of life;
yes, they shine only to chase the dream so divine.
Dreams come true for those who play with desire—
some try and reach, and some stay and feel the ire.
Still, I wish you would become mine,
and all my mirages turn into an oasis and shine.
It’s from the song “Return to Innocence", Enigma
Don't be afraid to be weak, Don't be too proud to be strong. Just look into your heart my friend. That will be the return to yourself. The return to innocence.
If you want, then start to laugh. If you must, then start to cry. Be yourself don't hide. Just believe in destiny. Don't care what people say Just follow your own way.
Don't give up and miss the chance. To return to innocence. That's not the beginning of the end. That's the return to yourself.
The return to innocence. Don't care what people say. Just follow your own way.
Don't give up and miss the chance to return to innocence
Some saw an oar on the ship,but his eyes laid on a fallen clip.From the corner of his gaze, a subtle sway of a hip—A little boy sighed, “There goes my wind,”He whispered again, “There goes my wind.”He picked up the clip;Gave it a playful flip,clip, though pretty, lay unnoticed and plain, a quiet charm, while others looked on with disdain.
My poems are crafted for those who seek understanding and connection in their own lives, especially in matters of the heart. If you've ever felt alone in your experiences with love, distance, or the quiet sting of passive aggression, these verses are for you. My intention is to articulate the emotions you may find hard to express, offering a sense of not being alone and perhaps a glimmer of strength.
I invite you to engage with my poems and share your own interpretations and experiences. If a particular poem resonates with you, please feel free to share it with others who might find comfort in its words. I also welcome your comments and thoughts on the poems – your feedback is invaluable and helps create a sense of community around these shared emotions. Let's connect through poetry.
These poems are for you and anyone who cherishes the beauty of love, the promise of hope, and the joy of happiness.
Get to know me, I am glad you are here to become a part of my story.
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