Tag Archives: poems

Love & Misadventure by Lang Leav

Book Title: Love & Misadventure

Written and Illustrated by: Lang Leav

Published: 26th April, 2013

Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing

Pages: 163

Genre: Poetry

My Ratings: 3/5 šŸŒŸ

Backstory: I was first introduced to Lang Leavā€™s poetry about 5 years ago when I came across her Facebook posts. They were so lovely to read. I would read those snippets and could easily relate to them. But then I stopped logging onto Facebook every so often- and after a while, I stopped entirely. Slowly I forgot all about her writings. Years later, one fine day while exploring some books at a local second-hand book stall, I came across her book! Itā€™s an original copy, printed in the US but I got it for such a cheaper deal that it made my day!

Review:

This book is divided in three sections; Misadventure, The Circus of Sorrows and Love. The three sections of the book, flows beautifully and perfectly one into the other, forming a story. The writer speaks about beginnings, endings, love, hurt, confusion, trust, betrayal, past, sadness; basically every element within a relationship. She tries to bring positivity even within the hurt. Some of the poems – or should I say, ā€˜snippetsā€™ – are very raw; instead of relying on false hopes, she states the facts in a very practical manner.

I’ll accept that havenā€™t read much of poetry, so I do not have a firm ground to compare this book with.

One of the poems in this book that I really loved: It is titled – ā€˜Some Time Outā€™

ā€œThe time may not be prime for us, though you are a special person. We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock, in unison.ā€

— Suri


What is your definition of love? What does love mean to you? Do suggest me some poetry books.

Quarantine Musings #10

I miss the beaches

and the mountains.

I miss our esplanade

the Marine Drive.

I miss the rides

to the markets and the malls.

I miss the bookstores

the smell of new books.

I miss the freedom

to just walk, and walk and walk.

— Suri


What are Quarantine Musings? Just some random, trivial, light-hearted (or maybe even deep?) thoughts that pass through my mind during these lockdown days.

Just Keep Running!

I step outside
Soak in the afternoon sun
Call out your name
You turn to look
And then start running to me
I hold you tight
Cry my heart out in your fur
Hug you and share with you
All the stories and the hurt
You are attentive
You understand my pain
You listen to me, as always
The terrible things I tell you about
The weird thoughts that I carry around
The fights, the misunderstandings,
The fears, the anguish
I tell you all, but you judge me not

You silently wink that it’ll be alright
As I weep softly with dry tears on my face
We both lay down on the floor,
You on your tummy, me on my back
But huddled together like there’s no room
You were, are and always will be
The best support system of my life.

Yes, it’s been years since we last met,
It’s been some years since you left the planet
But I hope you’re happy, wherever you are
I hope you have a big and wide open ground there
And nobody to stop you, from running around
Because, wasn’t that always your dream?
To run, run, eat and run?

You showed me, no matter what happens
We should never stop running
Feel the pain and double the pace
You were magic, the brightest light in my life
I miss you, but wait, don’t you worry
For I’ll always remember the good old days
To inspire me to run again
And not lay gasping for your presence
For it will only weaken my soul

I’ll run again, I’ll live your dream
And thus I’ll make it up to you
To the days that we’ve lost
To the times that we could have met, but didn’t.

I love you, Sweety.

Note: Here’s another poem dedicated to my dog, Sweety who passed away around 5 years ago.

– Suri

A Blank Sheet.

        Day breaks, courage fails. Name crawls, memories etch. Give it love, you take back fear. The doubt you had, becomes now crystal-clear!

        I feel like a blank sheet gazing, moving, trying to fit into the hollow sockets. The place that once showered love, now depicts only a pale face. A face which is half dead. A face which only pretends.

        I feel like a blank sheet thinking upon words. Words to spill out of me, for when I have none. Words to save me, from the moments of turmoil.

        I feel like a blank sheet, when I have to say. Say, to express, to tell them what I feel. But what do I feel? Is it then safe, to presume, that what crosses my mind at that instance is what I feel?

        I feel like a blank sheet when they want answers. The answers to the questions that I think so much about. The questions that I tend to ponder on and on upon!

        Yet, they say that I don’t care a bit. They say, I don’t think about the grave, important stuff. If I try and show them, my scratched, clear blank sheet, wouldn’t they all call me a bluff?
– Suri 

The Theft.

Sense.

My wacky Sixth-sense.

Waking me up in the middle of night.

 

Guns.

The roar of guns.

Clattering the ground like fiery fireworks!

 

Chaos.

The recklessness of chaos.

Shuddering and awakening my worst fears.

 

Time.

Yes, our old enemy – the time.

Gave me a blurry version of four past forty.

 

Neighbours.

Our sleepy little neighbours.

Isolating us to figure out the truth, by ourselves.

 

Guys.

Seven sturdy old guys.

Ransacking the houses in prototypes.

 

Wish.

A sudden unexpected wish.

To be some place else but here.

 

Eyes.

My black bespectacled eyes.

Searching furiously for any movement, from the guys.

 

Ears.

My small elf-ish ears.

Straining to hear the low volume announcements.

 

Support.

The enormous longing for support.

This huge gush of emotions to cling onto somebody!

 

Lights!

Those bright focus – lights!

Flooding the place with warm rays of hope.

 

Men.

Some good, brave men.

Saving our lives while endangering theirs!

 

Siege.

End of the three-hour siege.

Brought a relief and took me back to sleep.

 

– Suri

 

 

 

The Ghost Residing In Me.

You were there when I needed you the most

Protecting me, from the hypothetical ghost.

But when you needed me, I was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps, I’m selfish, self-centred, egoistic and mean!

– Suri

P.S.: Hello, friends. Here, I’m trying something new. It’s neither an entire poetry nor a prose! Maybe I could call it Verse-Writing! How’s it? My first try! šŸ™‚

Oh Her Malicious Heart! That Jerk.

Her heartĀ skipped a beat,

When it wasn’t supposed to.

It skipped a beat,

When those thoughts lurched towards her.

It skipped a beat,

And she couldn’t utter a word.

It skipped a beat,

As it dawned to her, that things aren’t really as they seem to be.

It skipped a beat,

As sheĀ realized, she couldn’t trust anyone; not anymore.

It skipped a beat,

When it failed. Yet again.

It skipped a beat,

To let her know, that she had become a bit more weaker.

It skipped a beat,

To say that she couldn’t carry the hurt only by her own shoulders.

Her heart, that roguish little brat; and the untrustworthy old-soul,

if only he knew;Ā thatĀ she was now breathless…

– Suri

Note: Hello everyone! Here’s my fourth poem. Am I improving? Share your views. šŸ˜€

Journey To Another Land.

It felt magical, it felt out of the world;Ā The journey to the land of innocence!

The joy in one’s eyes, the fear in another’s; The struggle of one soul, the purenessĀ of other.

One look towards him & he gave a warm smile,

We turned around to leave and he said goodbye!

The charisma in the atmosphere wasn’t the one to be longed for;

But surely would be the one to always be remembered.

They shouldn’t be languished with pity; Instead must be adorned with love and happiness.

For those worthy of sympathy are only the ones, who have it all yet fail.

Together they dance and shout and play;

Enjoying the last days to the full extent.

Whereas, we, in spite of all the good around us,

search for that tiny pint of darkness to overshadow our hearts.

I might have visited them only for a brief while;

Yet, the smiles have been etched with a graver spade!

Journey To Another Land.

– Suri

Note:Ā This is a poem that I have written as a dedication to the people staying at Orphanages. My recent visit to an Orphanage inspired and influenced me to bring out all my feelings in the form of a poem.


P.S.: This is my third poem. Am I improving in my poetry skills? Let me know, readers! šŸ™‚

Dreams & Memories.

Those times, when you enter in my dreams

Looking ever so young, lively and whole,

The picture of you that I had, is floating around, somewhere in the realms..

Looking through your eyes into mine, you were, with your lovely and watchful soul.

Felt as though I have found you again

As if you have returned; or rather, it was me….

For all I know, I left you alone in vain,

It should have been ‘we’, instead of just ‘me’..

The love in your eyes spoke an ineffable language,

That indicated a desire to be reunited back,

But how shall I go against the forces of nature;

And bring you back from the angels of Heaven?

– Suri

Note: This is my second attempt at poetry. I’ve written this as a dedication to my dog Sweety, who is no more with me. Please share your views regarding this and let me know how to improve my poetry skills. Thank you for reading. *wink*

Misunderstandings..

Misunderstandings create a rift,Ā Misunderstandings create a drift.

A rift so deep, steep and edgy, a drift so aimless, frame-less and foggy.

It makes one person an evil, draconian devil, and makes another an innocent lame saint.

But, I feel, misunderstanding itself is a devil amongst us, that creates a rift, a drift and a huge fuss!

Building up a person’s image, as it can be seen, is but a human nature..

Albeit,Ā have you ever thought that, that same person might consider it a torture?

A few may find solace in speaking their heart out, to their confidant;

the other few may want to live life as a hermit, talking to their own inner-self.

Respect people as they are, or else it might create a war.

For every single person is unique, and misunderstandings only create a breach…

Ā  Ā – Suri