Living Again

torrent
Sue Vincent’s #writephoto

I rise from the valley of death
The valley you pushed me into
The valley I reject…
Its deluge couldn’t drown me.

I don’t want to mourn for
The blessings that I have lost
I refuse to crumble under them
Within me, I can hear a loud protest.

Your memories don’t make me smile
They offer no solace now
They rest on a rocky ledge
Floundering in watery grave.

Divesting that soaking attire
I am seeking new vistas
My eye lashes are glowing
Approbations no longer allure me.

I seek the company of those
Who can guide me, escort me
Toward the path of enlightenment,
Forgiveness and peace.
© Balroop Singh

Thanks to Sue Vincent for an inspiring Thursday #photoprompt Torrent

You can click here for more poetry.

Check my latest book release: Moments We Love

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Thank you for your support. Please share your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

Why I Like Realism

I call myself a realist though most of my poetry rides on the wings of imagination. I know realism is boring and harsh; modern writers have almost abandoned it but it is ironic that this hypocritical world cannot do away with realities of life that stand before us every single day. However hard we may try to escape them, we can’t eliminate them. Who would like to read about them?

Before you conclude that literary realism is dead, I would like to introduce you to an outstanding book that I stumbled upon recently. When characters accept their imperfections, when they struggle to survive and show the willingness to turn back yet feel entrenched in the situation and no Godfathers come to save them – such stark realism would lack excitement. Strangely I didn’t find this to be true. I am amazed at the relevance of this story, so close to real life.

40179809._SY475_‘It’s A Long Way Down’ by Ian Canon is a realistic and honest saga of David, who had a loving wife, a successful career and the much-awaited award of excellence yet he let himself wander into the darkest alleys of addiction. He couldn’t answer his own question – why? Was it for pleasure, arrogance or escapism? “Success can be suffocating, happiness is hard,” he tries to justify his actions. As David slithered deeper into the abyss of self-imposed addiction, his body tried to react, sending signals of resistance, self-awakening hits him and his efforts to restrain himself are superbly narrated. Despite the theme, this book is brilliantly written, with each detail that keeps you spellbound, making you wonder – what next? What would be the end, detesting the obvious outcome that could be anybody’s guess!

Canon’s style of writing is perceptive, breathing the right emotion into the situation, he shares the depths of despair, the crevasse of self-doubt; human flaws stare at your face, mixed emotions of anger and angst gnaw at your bones, making you the mute spectator of desperation. With no help in sight, this lone journey of an addict is an eye-opener for all those weak-minded individuals who seek pleasure in momentary joy or misuse drugs. David may not evoke sympathy but exemplifies a scaffold of perfect doom.

Ian gets into the mind of his characters, each one perfectly drawn and understands relationships quite well. His delectable prose mitigates the curse words that may seem necessary for the junkies. The book ends on an exquisite note, leaving much to the imagination of the reader, hinting at the power of hope. I am amazed how such a dreary topic could be converted into an excellent book.
© Balroop Singh

Check my latest book release: Moments We Love

If  you have liked this post, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Book Review 3 : Moments we love by Balroop Singh

I marvel at Smitha’s in-depth reading and analysis of my poetry and therefore had to share her review.  The poet in her is looking at me through her choice of words, picking up all the nuances of emotions embedded in my poems. Many thanks to Smitha for this insightful review of Moments We Love. “There is a equal mix of romanticism and rebelliousness in the poems,” says Smitha. I am touched by her observations. The comments are closed here. Please hop on to her blog to read more.

Pennings...One woman's journey

I haven’t been active on wordpress lately. My brain has been clogged with far too many things. So what does a blogger do when s/he faces writer’s block if such a thing exists? The writer reads and then writes about what they have read. I picked up this book on kindle sometime ago but managed to read it only now because I’m not much of a kindle reader. I like holding books in my hand and feeling the pages. I know I must change this in the interest of the planet. And what better way to begin with this book which talks about the love for people and the love for nature and love for oneself in the same breath, especially since the author/ poet herself had told me when I decided to write review 3 months ago, ‘ the author has finally arrived.’ It’s a sentence I derive great…

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The Song Of A Stream

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Sue Vincent’s #photoprompt

This image evokes the memory of a sagacious song that each bounce of water whispered into my ears; the unforgettable lyrics… having the quality of a lilting and enchanting tune, unique in its form.

As the stream gurgled down with glee, I tried to sing with it and soak in those fleeting moments of unexpected joy. I marveled at its sparkling surge and luminosity that never loses its sheen.

I admired the freedom that nature endows us with!

I wondered at the message that was written on its ripples, the message of surging ahead, of making its own way through the impediments, of singing happily despite the turbulences created by the unforeseen circumstances.

Isn’t life like that? Can we detach it from water, its lifeline?
Is it imaginable without the rocky surface and inevitable incidence?
Can we stop its flow and speed? Can we evade change?
Its childlike innocence, its radiance, its twists and twirls remind us of little joys of life. Its depth and fortitude speak about the stormy weather, which is knitted into the fabric of our lives.

I have spent countless days in the lap of Nature, watching the movement of clouds and the orange glow that spreads across the sky, dancing in the sudden hailstorm, sliding in the snow, walking in the woods and deriving solace from the whispering pines but the impact of that song, which I had heard thirty years ago is far more profound and eternal. Some memories are indelible.
© Balroop Singh

Thanks to Sue Vincent for an inspiring Thursday #photoprompt Choice.

You can click here for my poetry.

Check my latest book release: Moments We Love

If  you have liked this post, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Thank you for your support. Please share your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

Hear the Whisper

Bare branches
Bare branches peep through my window
Stand tall to inspire;
Rocks that I admire
As they love with fervor

Bare beauty that illuminates
At the command of Mother Nature
I watch from my cozy couch
How they entangle and crouch

Bare branches shiver and smile
Breathing eerie calm;
Waiting for their singing pals
When sublime spring calls

Watch how they weep
Bearing snow and rain
Wind whirls tender twigs
Not a word of pain!

Watch how they lit up
And say adieu to sun
But shimmer with delight
In moonlight!

Did you hear their whisper?
© Balroop Singh

You can click here for more poetry.

Check my latest book release: Moments We Love

Thank you for your support. If  you have liked this poem, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Balroop Singh.