I haven’t rested in a while
Frozen in the expression of lassitude
Daunted by thoughts of endless toil
That occupy my solitude
A joyless haze of laissez-faire
Has settled so deep within my sinews
That a fledgling thought of raison d’être
Sends me hurtling down the icy blues
I now muse in silent interludes
The what-ifs have all but passed me by
And yet, for idle thoughts are idle not,
A weary passenger can still try
– Akanksha Gupta (poem)
Lurking in the depths of my soul
The hunger unfettered, growls and roars
I grab it tight with both my arms
With fingers unclenched from clammy palms
Yet fear threatens to swallow all sound
The muted ringing of silence surrounds
I dare not open my eyes, and stare
Into the very eyes of despair
On a face that could so easily mirror my own
Had it not been wildly unkempt and so very old
Dazed, startled, I uncurl again, and again glimpse
The future that spins anew with every blink
~ Akanksha Gupta (poem)
I like to think
I am like a pendulum;
I am wont to seesaw
Between
A very high opinion
Of myself
And a critically flawed
One
Yet unlike the pendulum
This wont is an artist’s science –
Abstract rhythm
Immeasurable rhyme
It ebbs and flows
Like a musician’s score,
Its intensity oft rendering
Thinking a chore,
And in this state my Subconscious
Still battles with indecision;
A furious yet subliminal exercise
Both, a virtue and a vice
That’s crept up in my sinews
Contracting, expanding,
In sweet delirium
(Quite unlike alcohol)
Therefore,
And Apparently,
This makes it good for the soul,
Like,
Chicken soup!
Drinking in incredible stories –
An oblivious escape
A deliberate distraction
A tragic twist
An inspiring action –
Each oscillation thusly stokes
The storyteller’s
Imagination
And, don’t we have them all?
Stories to tell
Stories to live
Even as we’re grasping
At the straws
We push through
And pull rabbits
Out of our ordinary tales –
Veritable magicians we are
With bewilderingly bewitching brains
That delude themselves
To swing
Between
Self love
And loathing
– Akanksha Gupta
When you look at me and those I paint
I hope that you see a rainbow coloured haze
For though I speak sharp with words so sure
They reflect a mere fraction of what I think I know
When you think of me and those I paint
I hope it’s not a puzzle but a mosaic
Because what I know are parts of a whole
Coloured by mine and growing evermore
When you speak of me and those I paint
I hope an equal lack of judgment is displayed
Those words that seem sharp, sure, and succinct
Are opinions, fickle; the truth has always been extinct
– Akanksha Gupta
Like a ship
To the land
Is anchored, and
Like an animal
Of the wild
Is leashed
We are waiting
Forever
To be freed
From the constraints
Within
It is the stifling
School of Thought
That has schooled us
Into a way of life
Caged within
A point of view
And we are comfortable
Within its familiarity –
Release us unto
A world unknown
And we’d have no clue
What to do
Or where to
Haul that anchor
And hook it anew
Now it is too late to be unhooked
From the familiarity of being hooked
– Akanksha Gupta (poem only)
AxelleGupta 