The Red Postbox
Tag: Poetry
The old wooden bridge
Under the Turquoise lipstick
It was as much blue as much it was green
It first kissed her lips, When she turned a teen..!
With stick turquoise, she shared a great bond
She was no Hermoine, but it was her magic wand..!
Staying in her bag and at times in denim pockets
It knew her joys and those buried secrets..!
Cheeks, goblets and on few lips – she’d left its stain
Few remained beloved and many turned disdain.!
Quivering of her lips, her lust, angst and agony
It hid them all across seasons – hot, cold and rainy..!
It wasn’t just her decor, it was her masking veil
Sometimes strong and sometimes frail…!
What lied beneath the turquoise lipstick, no one knew!
It was a weird color – Few found it glitzy and many just sneered.!
It’s a weird color that lived a mysterious life with her
Gleaming when she smiled and smiling when she cried.!
-chan
Perilous path of delirious mind
Oh Mr. Vagabond, oh dear happiness
While you seek home
Hopping from one heart to another
And sometimes taking shelter in those deluded minds..
If you come across him
Stay there for a little longer,
Stay with him, But not forever..!
Caress him; fill his heart with joy, but not too much..!
He is ambitious
His is a nomad, like you…
Seeking shelter in one dream and another…
Dreams that only grow bigger and better…
Leave him before he grows content
That would be a contempt, but a necessary evil!
Like a horse that has to go through the dressage
He needs to be roughened up, he needs to be broken down, forever and ever…
Oh Mr. Vagabond, oh dear happiness
In every person who has been a part of his life, Leave a part of you..!
May be that’s the purpose of his life…
May be that’s the truth he should be veiled from..!
He is a delirious mind on a perilous path
Let him be in that never ending pursuit of purpose..!
-Chan
Passionophoria 