Ghosts of the Past

Image from Pixaby

Who doesn’t meet them?
Who doesn’t get pulled in by them
Into those alleys we would like to forget?

I exorcised them, pushed them away
Away into the valleys of obscurity
Closed my doors despite their persistence.

I know they visit uninvited,
They linger in the shadows
To fan your wrath, to create ruckus.

The more you feed them,
The bolder they get
To add angst to your heart.

Only when you stop listening to them
Only when you accept the past
And forgive those you hold responsible

Only when you fight
The self-created demons
Only then, will they recede.

Serenity lies within your heart
But you have to stoke it
To let it permeate around you.
© Balroop Singh

Inspired from somebody who clings to the past and keeps wallowing in self-pity.

Thank you.

Many thanks to Colleen for a lovely review of my latest release – Slivers: Chiseled Poetry

For more poetry: click here to hear Magical Whispers

 

My Creative Cave

Image from Pixaby

My creative cave
Is open from both sides
Starry nights spread their tresses
When sun wanders away.

My heart tingles with delight
When the glow of moon
Creates magic in my cave
My pen drapes around the light.

Emotions echo
To release the words
Oppressed by feral fears 
Creativity cedes her hold.

Till dawn breaks
Bringing dewy-damp whispers
And melody of flowers
A new song reverberates.

A song in synch with the surroundings
A song that soothes many hearts.
© Balroop Singh, June 2021

If you like poetry,  check my latest book: Magical Whispers

You can click here for more poetry.

Colleen’s Ekphrastic #PhotoPrompt

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA:  Trent McDonald, photographer

I embody desires
My power can never be calmed
I breathe moments
That flow through timeless terrain
To add glory to wilderness.

***

I race like thoughts
Yet I could calm a myriad mind
I heal without words
Hopes crumble into me 
To create a balm for souls.

***

Thanks to Colleen and Trent for the inspiration.

Do you like nature poetry? Hear the whispers…

Check my latest book: Magical Whispers

Muted by the Tiny

Sunset is no longer beautiful
As it reminds me of flames
That wolfed many humans.

The smoke of cremations
Changed its radiance
Even hues of the sky seem muted.

Sunset seems that robber
Who colluded with a tiny virus
To deprive many of their basic right.

Souls soar to meet the unknown
While we look teary-eyed
As each home is in mourning. 

Soot sits on the trees
Lending darkness to the sun
Its glory snatched by the pyres.

The mighty and the powerful
Look helplessly
No defeat was ever so enormous!
© Balroop Singh, May, 2021.

This poem tries to express the emotions of Pandemic affected people of India, clawed by Covid – 19.

For poetry lovers:

My latest book: Magical Whispers

Thank you.

#Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 222

Image by mollyroselee from Pixabay

Each sunrise speaks softly
Clouds seem to promise respite
Yet they perish thirsty
Sans water, sans loving friends
Haunted by the cleft curse queen.
© Balroop Singh

Inspired by the image for the Tanka Tuesday Photo Challenge by Colleen M. Chesebro. Thank you.