A tinge of logic and a bit of consistency, both contributing to our thought process. Eventually leading us to the choices that may or may not be right. But we let it lead us along as we choose to do so. “Conversation with coherent worlds” is about those journeys that we take while making those conversations with ourselves. The ultimate motive of thought is a reflection – to guide us through the decisions we take and the choices we make; be it an afterthought or inspection before making one. These poetic verses try their best to invoke the trail of thoughts in you. They make you more aware of yourself for nature of thoughts you carry.
Format: Kindle eBook/Paperback
- Kindle eBook:75 INR/$3.99
- Paperback: 249 INR/$7.99
My Ratings: 4.5/5
An insightful and charming poetry collection. A three part poetry collection which covers a varied array of topics. This book is a must read for all kinds of poetry lovers, across the world.
What I liked about the book:
—> The absolutely gorgeous cover.
—> About the only collection in which I’ve already read most of the poems multiple times.
—> It covers topics which touch your heart and soul, and some of the lines will feel like they’re your own thoughts put into words.
—> My absolute favourite titles (which were so hard to pick because I loved most of the titles in the book) include ‘Starting With The Masses’, ‘Collecting What You Lost’, ‘Did You Dream Today?’, ‘False Pretense’, ‘Miss Mistaken’, ‘Skilled Connection’, ‘Brave’, ‘Life 2090’, ‘Blind Love’, ‘Curious Fascination’, ‘Pinch Of Madness’, ‘Precision And Patience’ and ‘Off the Cliff’
What I did not like about the book:
—>It took me over three months to get through the book (which is mostly my fault I believe) because the poems need a certain mood and mindset to absorb.
—> Some poems didn’t make me feel that connection that most others from this collection did.
—> A writer is alive as long as there is a belief that there is art in everyone and everything.
—> Sugar is essential, said so too for salt.
Grain of salt hit while sugar goes to pamper.
—> Because sometimes, things aren’t how they are Meant to be
—> The time is a challenge, you’ll yet face.
For, it’s a keeper and you’re just a watcher.
—> Who gives the authority of limits,
When the lines are not set by us?
—> Circles, centres and chords,
All narrate different stories.
For all what it leads to,
is all the same,
The ideality of the formed circle.
—> What’s left if you ask,
I’d say, “the hope of becoming worthy, yet again.”
—> How far could prayer lead,
A hope that survives, yet another dream.
The kept distance, farther away to limit.
—> The fear it is, within, of failures.
The fear of not being able to raise again.
Why is it such a chance?
Why could it not be a model,
To rise up stronger the very time we fall?
The weaker you are towards your goal,
The lesser you dream about it.
The stronger you are,
The lesser you are feared by it.
Alas! A fear to answer, “Did you dream today?” is gone.
—> From withins of head.
Acceptance of the dreams as part of realities,
Paves way to the grown mundane of dreams.
—> As much I want the time to cease,
I realize the control isn’t with me.
To possess the power to mend and blend,
I shall have to wait
To dream again,
Where I do have controls
Of what I see and continue to dream about.
—> A chance,
Given if, to make things alright, and do it better,
Would one still take a chance to cut the cord?
—> And then there were zeroes,
Which I fail to understand.
Carries no value,
Yet has the potential to take it all
—> Had I known the place
I used to go to,
Or the one I want to go to,
I wouldn’t be going somewhere hunting,
Of that one reason which made me explore;
—> I might not know what’s right, as of yet!
But, I know, for sure, I’ll figure it out along the way.
As much I have refrained from writing,
I have grown to boil myself out,
To someone who defies to be self-sufficient.
—> A humble man said, “Listen to all,”
A wise man then added, “But do what you will.”
A series of understandings then began,
To understand the two.
—> Monotonous and real-like
Yet, a programmed life.
Agendas set for the days,
Part of a cycle,
Days in and out,
A pattern in this beauty,
A regular, a routine to stick on to.
With a mix of extremes,
A little bizarre,
Of the intercepts and notions,
Coarse or so, a course in its own way.
—> Who calls it love, the one who can’t see?
The flaws, as they aren’t, to the eyes who see.
Isn’t the love that is blind,
For the blind, a line of sight?
Perspective, rather a gain,
For a blind, to not see, but see with heart,
A plain yet, colourful theme.
—> There is so much more to explore,
And so less time to waste,
To the wind the thoughts to mill,
To create way for new air to renew.
Star lands and earthly spaces,
Several spectacles to conquer,
Build inferences more than possible fantasies,
There is no single final destination,
There are countless such.
—> Mad is not definition,
It is a feeling,
Of an expressed emotion,
In the long-lasting singularities.
A recipe to make the mad,
Is the pinch of all,
In this sane sane world,
We are all so mad.
—> The society you be in,
Isn’t by the company you keep,
It is wherever you are,
You are anyways still on the radar.
—> All lies aren’t alike,
Unlike the source of how they are perceived,
A confinement of truth,
As they are in a way are.
—> Like a lotus,
Knows the difference,
By the weight of the dew drop on it,
Accepts it as a part,
But never becomes one with it.
Open your wings to all possibilities,
—> Unfaithful to our asks,
We deny changes, rather ignore,
And yet complain about the routine lives,
That we lead on.
If this isn’t called escapism,
Then that else is?
—> Everything comes at a price,
You win some,
You lose some,
Both ways you have gained,
An experience to carry,
As a pride,
To pass on,
From your bones,
To the generations to come.
—> Noises, aren’t distractions,
They are very much the disguised trials,
Coming your way,
To knock you down,
Make you stronger,
To prove yourself, of the worthier,
More to what you decided to win,
As a prime – a factor of your targets.
—> Why is the time so dominant?
To change the choices and desires.
Is this do to with familiarity,
Or the path that seems already so worn out?
—> The toughest it be,
To be yourself,
Yet not so hard,
If you trust yourself.
—> Are we all what we are
Or rather we pretend to be?
Are we happy as we show,
Or rather how sad are we,
That we are not able to?
—> Not everything leads you the same way,
To the same destination.
Paths taken are different,
Needful so, to be aware of the chosen.
Not by the outcomes, but by the journey,
Measure your success,
For you learn a lot more, through than end,
While you reach where you intend to.
—>A fool only sees the output,
A wise also sees the input through the output
—> Regardless of the wavelength,
Of the timelines where incidents are to align,
I try to stitch between the voids,
Where I see a thin thread connecting them both.
Like a clothing weaved into one.
—> One doesn’t start right by inception,
It is the errors that lead you to precision
—> Pain is not normal,
It never is,
For it is a learning,
Of what normal looks like.
At normal times,
You can’t be in praise of what normal is.
Only at not so normal times,
You are made to realize,
Of all the times which are rather normal
—> Normalcy is a gift,
Not often appreciated for being so.
Until unless there comes a time,
So different than what normal is.
—> Poetry is not just a form of expression; it is a whole language in itself.
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