Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
6d · 748
I
I
I am a soul
Your life force
I am the driver
Really just a pinpoint of life
My throne between my brows
Detach from the world around me.

I am a ruler
Ruler of all my sense organs
In the problems of days
Your changing ways
I remain as I am, as
I am just a peaceful soul.

I feel far away from you
Away from the physical world
I am beyond your world
Beyond from intellect and traits
I am peaceful here
I am a meta soul.
The poem opens with a bold affirmation: “I am a soul.” From the very first line, the poet establishes that the speaker is not the physical self but the atman, the innermost essence of life that drives the body. This positioning situates the poem firmly within the tradition of spiritual and philosophical poetry, echoing metaphysical reflections found in the Upanishads and other mystical works. The “I” here transcends individuality, asserting an identity beyond the limitations of the material world.

The central theme revolves around self-realization and detachment. The poet emphasizes the distinction between the soul and the external world, highlighting the soul’s ability to remain unaffected by the fluctuating nature of life. Lines like “Detach from the world around me” convey a conscious turning inward, suggesting that true peace and stability come from recognizing one’s spiritual essence. The poem portrays the soul as a ruler over the sense organs and the body, maintaining equanimity in the face of external chaos and internal desires.

Imagery plays a crucial role in conveying the poem’s spiritual message. The soul is described as the driver of the body, likened to a charioteer navigating the vehicle of human existence, while the “pinpoint of life” evokes the subtle yet vital nature of the soul. The phrase “throne between my brows” refers to the ajna chakra, symbolizing wisdom, intuition, and heightened consciousness. Similarly, the soul is depicted as a ruler of the senses, emphasizing mastery over impulses and self-discipline. The term “meta soul” at the end elevates the soul beyond personal traits, suggesting a state of universal transcendence.

The tone of the poem is meditative and introspective. There is a sense of serenity and calm detachment throughout, paired with subtle confidence in the soul’s unchanging nature. The repetition of “I am” functions almost like a mantra, reinforcing both the identity and the stability of the soul amidst the flux of the physical world. The free verse structure mirrors the freedom of the soul itself, unhindered by rhyme or meter, allowing the poet’s reflections to flow naturally and without constraint.

Philosophically, the poem draws on Vedantic and yogic ideas. It stresses the distinction between atman (soul) and the mind or body, pointing to a higher reality beyond material existence. The third eye imagery and references to the soul’s sovereignty over the senses align with classical yogic thought, while the concept of a “meta soul” touches on paramatman, or the universal consciousness. The poem suggests that true peace and clarity arise not from external achievements but from recognition of the soul’s enduring, immutable essence.

Stylistically, Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S employs a combination of metaphor, anaphora, and imagistic symbolism. The metaphors of the driver, throne, and ruler articulate the soul’s power and centrality, while the repetition of “I am” emphasizes affirmation and self-awareness. Subtle alliteration, as in “problems of days / your changing ways,” adds musicality and rhythm, enhancing the contemplative tone.

Ultimately, the poem serves as a spiritual self-portrait, a meditation on identity and inner peace. It balances mystical philosophy with personal reflection, creating a piece that is at once introspective and universally resonant. By ending with the assertion “I am a meta soul,” the poet invites readers to contemplate their own spiritual essence, encouraging a journey of self-discovery, detachment, and inner harmony. The work is both motivational and meditative, affirming the enduring nature of the soul amidst the impermanence of worldly life.
6d · 140
East Land
East Land

April is the cruellest month,
Infalliably all the 12 months.
Traditionally demise, spritually feeble,
Materially firm and culturally parched.

Morning dark, night bright,
droughts, storms, muddle in monsoon.
Legendary roots got detached,
Forming a new trend of hybridism.

Subjects face anarchical tendencies,
Bones speak and stones still.
Folk got restored by alien melody,
Science replaced customs and values.

Everything in turmoil and chaos,
Occult mind and Orient body.
Nothing is constant in Orients,
But absurdity, not change.

Imitations work here on grand scale,
Respect to ancestors in small scale.
Men powerless, others meaningless,
Life is savage, absurd in nature.

Here nobody hears nobody,
Everybody hears nobody here.
Theories and reservation on screen,
Stucturalists, some, others in green.

Life hapless and listless,
Masses reveal gist in nothing.
Examples speak no definitions.
Writers speak only of imagination.

The sun comes and goes,
Lives come and go, dead and gone.
Genuine love a piligrimage,
Material love a bin drainage.

High rise in crime and sufferings,
Science, -isms, hunger, fashion, unemployment.
once served spritual messages to the world,
Awards in physics and chaste in metaphysics.

Eliot traverrsed with his barren land,
Sterilized his land at sheer Ganga.
Presently this land itself is dry,
Dry in culture, wet in cries.

Incarnations, 'DA DA DA' doesn't work here,
Demons and devils can do hell of heaven.
Two faces work in Orient Spritious Mundi,
One being progress and the other poverty.

Music should stop and dance start,
Days, centuries and ages should restart.
This art is impersonal, but tone personal,
Personal or impersonal, life is hellish.

Hopes are to the weakest and most degraded,
I've been born, and once is enough.
Westernization, Modernization, Globalization….

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: February 2011
Notes on East Land by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Paragraph 1 – Introduction

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S’s East Land is a powerful poem that deliberately responds to T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land. Where Eliot turned his attention to the shattered cultural landscape of the West after the First World War, Abhimanyu shifts the focus to the Orient and reveals that the East, too, is suffering from a comparable decline. The poem is significant because it does not merely imitate Eliot but actively dialogues with him, questioning the assumed spiritual superiority of the East that Eliot once looked to for renewal. Instead, Abhimanyu portrays an Eastern land that is equally barren, hybridized, and culturally confused.


---

Paragraph 2 – Title and Allusion

The very title, East Land, positions the poem as a counterpart to The Waste Land. This signals that the poet is drawing on Eliot’s modernist tradition but also offering his own critique of the contemporary East. The poem’s opening line immediately echoes Eliot’s famous phrase, “April is the cruellest month”, but Abhimanyu expands it: “April is the cruellest month, infallibly all the 12 months.” This transformation is crucial. Eliot spoke of a single season of painful renewal, but Abhimanyu emphasizes that the crisis in the East is ongoing, unending, and stretches across the entire year. This establishes the poem’s bleak tone from the very beginning.


---

Paragraph 3 – Themes of Decay and Absurdity

At its core, East Land is a lament for cultural decay. The poet notes how legendary roots have been detached, leaving society vulnerable to hybridism and imitation. What once gave the East its cultural strength has been eroded by modern influences. The poet also emphasizes the absurdity of modern life, where values are reversed and contradictions dominate. The paradox “Morning dark, night bright” captures the topsy-turvy condition of existence. The repeated statement “Here nobody hears nobody, / Everybody hears nobody here” exposes the breakdown of communication and meaning. For Abhimanyu, modern life is not just spiritually barren but absurd and directionless.


---

Paragraph 4 – Tradition versus Modernity

A central theme of the poem is the conflict between tradition and modernity. Abhimanyu laments that science and technology, while materially firm, have displaced customs, traditions, and spirituality. He writes: “Science replaced customs and values.” The East, once a source of spiritual nourishment for the world, has now become a land dry of culture but wet in cries. The poet sees globalization and westernization as forces that have corroded ancestral practices. This tension between past and present is one of the strongest aspects of the poem, highlighting how modernization has led not to progress but to alienation and confusion.


---

Paragraph 5 – Satire on Society

Unlike Eliot’s myth-laden poem, Abhimanyu’s style is satirical and direct. He critiques the realities of modern society, mentioning issues such as unemployment, crime, reservation, fashion, and imitation. The biting line “Imitations work here on grand scale, / Respect to ancestors in small scale” encapsulates his critique of hypocrisy. People are eager to imitate the West but neglect their own heritage. Through satire, the poet exposes the shallow values of contemporary life. His tone is less detached than Eliot’s and more personally involved, suggesting not only an observer but also a critic who feels the impact of this decline.


---

Paragraph 6 – Style and Technique

The style of East Land is free verse with no fixed rhyme or rhythm, which aligns it with modernist and postmodernist traditions. However, unlike Eliot’s fragmented structure, Abhimanyu opts for a plain and direct diction. His use of repetition (“Here nobody hears nobody”), paradox (“Morning dark, night bright”), and irony gives the poem its satirical edge. He employs allusion not just to Eliot but also to cultural markers like the Upanishads and Indian traditions, though often to show how they have lost their effectiveness in the present world. The language is deliberately unpolished at times, reflecting the rawness of his critique.


---

Paragraph 7 – The Spiritual Dimension

A striking aspect of the poem is its treatment of spirituality. Eliot ended The Waste Land with hope in the Upanishadic wisdom of “DA DA DA” (Datta, Dayadhvam, Damyata) and the peace mantra “Shantih, shantih, shantih.” Abhimanyu, however, dismisses this possibility outright. He writes: “Incarnations, ‘DA DA DA’ doesn’t work here.” This is a powerful reversal of Eliot’s conclusion. For Abhimanyu, even the spiritual remedies once admired by Eliot have failed in the contemporary East. The Orient is no longer a land of salvation but a site of confusion, poverty, and absurdity. This radical position intensifies the despair of the poem.


---

Paragraph 8 – Tone of Despair

Throughout the poem, the tone is highly critical and deeply pessimistic. While Eliot’s poem, despite its bleakness, holds out a sliver of hope in spirituality, Abhimanyu leaves the reader with no such consolation. His conclusion, “I’ve been born, and once is enough,” is a declaration of exhaustion with life itself. The voice is weary, disillusioned, and resigned to the futility of existence. The harsh satire, the repeated emphasis on imitation and absurdity, and the rejection of both traditional and modern values make the poem a work of profound despair. Life, as presented in East Land, is “hellish” and meaningless.


---

Paragraph 9 – Comparison with Eliot

The poem cannot be understood in isolation from Eliot’s The Waste Land. Both works deal with barrenness, cultural decay, and spiritual emptiness. Eliot mourned the collapse of Western civilization and sought renewal in the East. Abhimanyu mourns the collapse of the East itself and denies even the possibility of salvation through spiritual wisdom. Where Eliot used myth, allusion, and fragmented voices to portray a shattered culture, Abhimanyu uses satire, plain language, and direct critique. The two poems mirror each other, but East Land functions as a corrective: it shows that the East is not a source of healing but is equally caught in the absurdities of modern life.


---

Paragraph 10 – Conclusion

In conclusion, East Land is a significant poem because it situates the East within the same condition of cultural and spiritual desolation that Eliot identified in the West. Abhimanyu’s voice is not merely imitative but resistant: he challenges Eliot’s vision of the Orient as a land of wisdom and shows that it has itself become barren. The poem stands as a satire on modernity, a lament for lost traditions, and a cry of despair at the futility of existence. Through its allusions, paradoxes, and raw critique, East Land becomes a modern Oriental counterpart to The Waste Land, reminding readers that no culture—East or West—can escape the corrosive forces of modern absurdity.


---
Jun 15 · 183
A Soul in Song
In Rayalaseema’s morning light,
A star was born with silent might.
Venkatgiri Kota held his name,
A soul untouched by thirst for fame.

Born on the edge of year’s last breath,
He grew where dreams outshone death.
December's child with eyes so wise,
A poet framed by dusky skies.

In Marwari roots, he took his stand,
With faith and truth as guiding hand.
The son of Godavari’s grace,
And Shrvwen Dass’s quiet face.

Among the hills where gold once lay,
In Kolar’s fields, he learned the way.
With pen in hand and bread to earn,
He wrote in silence, fierce to learn.

A salesman first, but more inside,
A burning storm he could not hide.
He bore the weight of life’s demand,
While building castles out of sand.

Each page he touched turned into fire,
Each line a breath, each word desire.
He walked through pain with steady feet,
Where love and sorrow gently meet.

Not just a man of chalk and board,
But one whose soul the verse adored.
A teacher clothed in humble truth,
A sage who kept the flame of youth.

In metaphors, he sought the skies,
In stanzas, tears could harmonize.
He spun his grief into refrain,
And stitched with verse his silent pain.

"Heartache" spoke of wounds so deep,
Of promises the stars can't keep.
While "Shattered Love" told tales once whole,
Now broken like a crystal soul.

"Poet’s Love" revealed his strife,
Of truth and lies, of art and life.
"Paradoxical Love" sang loud and clear,
Of longing wrapped in veils of fear.

"Blind by Wealth and Pride" would sting,
A tale where gold dulls everything.
"Longing Love" was soft, yet strong,
A song of where true hearts belong.

Each poem carved from bleeding thought,
Of battles felt, of lessons taught.
In shadows where most fear to go,
He lit his lamp and let it glow.

No fame he chased, no crown he sought,
His heart with inner fire was wrought.
He lived through storms, yet stayed composed,
His wounds, with wisdom, he enclosed.

A voice for those who cried unseen,
A heart that knows where love has been.
With every verse, he gave a name
To nameless grief, to silent flame.

He saw the world in honest hue,
He wrote for both the false and true.
He held no grudge, he wore no hate,
He left his pain to shape his fate.

In every loss, he found a gain,
He danced amid the pouring rain.
For even tears, to him, could be
A drop of hope, a melody.

He rose where many others fell,
A tale of strength no pen could tell.
Yet write he did with grace so pure,
His words a balm, his soul the cure.

He taught with fire, he loved with care,
His presence was a gentle prayer.
A poet, teacher, heart so wide,
A lighthouse through the rising tide.

No riches weighed his spirit down,
His truth became his only crown.
In lives he touched, his light remains,
A song that heals, a voice that reigns.

Though scars were deep, he never swayed,
In kindness was his power laid.
He rose above the worldly storm,
In brokenness, he found his form.

A dreamer, yes, but one who dared
To feel too much, yet always cared.
His life, a verse of giving grace,
A timeless truth no years erase.

And now he walks with steady stride,
With hope and courage as his guide.
He speaks of peace, he lives in truth,
A soul both old, and filled with youth.

He lifts the fallen with his art,
And plants compassion in each heart.
His journey shines, a sacred light,
A beacon through the darkest night.

With voice of care, and heart so wide,
He turns the pain the world would hide.
Into a flame that warms the air,
A poet's gift, a life's true prayer.

So let his tale in silence swell,
A story every heart can tell.
Of how one man with soul so vast,
Turned wounds to gold and pain to past.

He stands today, not just as one,
But as the moon, the star, the sun.
With love he walks, with light he gives,
A poet lives and always lives.

Dedicated to the Time and my Living.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated:14/06/2025
May 28 · 146
Empty Altar
Oh great leader, zero work ethics in your name,
A mastermind of doing absolutely nothing but claim fame.
You are a leader who does nothing right,
But still you act like everything’s perfect in sight.

Your work habits are lazy, your mood swings wild,
You insult others, but play the victim child.
We are in awe of your bravery in absorbing endless praise,
For accomplishments that others achieved, while you lounged in daze.

You are a bad example for others to see,
A leader who fails but still wants to be free.
Your legacy will be one of failure and shame
A reminder to all of your lazy leadership game.

So here’s to you, great leader,may your empty titles abound,
May your lack of substance be masked by loud sound.
May your incompetence inspire a generation of idle pride,
And may your name become synonymous with laziness inside.

Dedicated to the leader with brilliant incompetence.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 28/05/2025
This satirical poem delivers a scathing critique of a leader who embodies incompetence, laziness, and hypocrisy. With biting sarcasm, the poet exposes the stark contrast between the leader’s self-proclaimed greatness and their actual lack of contribution or accountability. The leader is portrayed as someone who basks in unearned praise, shifting blame onto others while presenting a false image of perfection. Their erratic behavior and manipulative victimhood are highlighted as traits that erode the integrity of their position.

The poem also serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of such leadership. Through clever wordplay and sharp imagery, the poet warns that the glorification of incompetence can have far-reaching consequences. The “empty titles” and “idle pride” symbolize a hollow legacy built on illusion rather than merit. Ultimately, the poem calls for reflection on the values society upholds in its leaders, stressing that true leadership demands accountability, integrity, and genuine effort.
May 27 · 151
Paradoxical Love
You turned away from me with a false heart,
A broken promise, a love that fell apart.
Your lies hurt me deep, a painful wound inside,
You chose money and fame over our love to abide.

My honest heart loved only you, so true and kind,
But you left me for a life that's flashy and unkind.
You gave up our real love for things that shine,
And now my heart is broken, lost in a dark decline.

You were unfair to our love, so good and bright,
You traded it for a life that's not right.
My love was pure, it only loved you,
But you didn't value it, what am I to do?

You made a big mistake, leaving our love behind,
Now my heart is sad, my world is not kind.
True love is selfless, gentle, and always true,
A treasure lost by you, now shining through.

Your duplicity revealed a heart that’s lost its way,
A treason against love, in endless, greedy day.
You must realize now, the value of our past,
Regretting every moment our love didn't last,
Do you feel the guilt of leaving a heart that loved you?

Dedicated to that leaving heart.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 27/05/2025
This poem by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S explores the pain and emotional betrayal experienced in a one-sided, selfless love. It reflects a deep sense of hurt caused by a partner who chose materialism and superficial gain over true emotional connection. The speaker's devotion is contrasted with the other’s deceptive choices, creating a powerful emotional dichotomy between pure love and shallow ambition. Through vivid imagery and heartfelt lines, the poet laments the betrayal and mourns the loss of a sincere relationship.

The poem also serves as a reflection on the consequences of valuing temporary pleasures over enduring affection. It emphasizes the depth of the speaker’s love and the magnitude of the loss experienced due to the other’s greed and dishonesty. The final stanza brings in a tone of regret and moral reckoning, questioning the betrayer’s conscience. This emotional appeal transforms personal pain into a universal message about love, loyalty, and the cost of misplaced priorities.
Your designer hands, once gentle on my skin,
Now grasp luxury bags, and wealth within.
Amidst the ruins of our love, I search for yesterday,
In the wasteland of your beauty, where charm stay.

Only you exist beyond my family was your say,
Now, after a year it’s just a say, just a say .
For actions speak louder, a love that wasn’t there,
You are my everything, a vow that echoed empty and bare.

My heart is broken, shattered, lost and sore,
Forever changed by the love we had before.
I mourn the loss of trust and our love’s demise,
It’s just a laugh for you, not so wise, not so wise.

Dedicated to such blind pride not so right.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 26/05/2025
This poem reflects the deep emotional pain of a person who feels betrayed and disillusioned by a once-loving partner whose values have shifted towards materialism and superficial pride. The speaker reminisces about the intimate past they shared, now replaced by luxury and pride that have corroded the foundation of their relationship. The lines reveal a sense of loss, not just of love but of trust and sincerity, painting a picture of emotional decay amidst material gain.

The repetition of phrases like “just a say” and “not so wise” emphasizes the speaker’s disillusionment and bitter realization that promises once made were empty. The emotional contrast between the speaker’s sincere love and the partner’s current indifference is striking. The poem serves as a personal catharsis and a commentary on how pride and wealth can blind people to genuine human connection and love.
May 25 · 434
Longing Love
My Infinity, my love, my soul’s darkest fire,
In your absence, my heart is a desolate desire.
Morning sunbeams that once warmed our entwined skin,
Now bring only sorrow, dear, and longing within.

Chinna, your touch was honey to my lips,
My girl, our love was a sweet wild eclipse.
In your eyes, my heart would find a home,
Dear, with you, I was never alone.

Remembering the rides into sunsets, side by side,
Around Gudivanka beating with pride.
There were definite promises with no shame,
Only love towards each other’s name.

But now, bangari, you are lost in wealth and fame,
Missing love, the touch and the voice which whispered my name.
Do you realise, my love, what money couldn’t buy?
A heart that beat for you alone, a love that said “ you are mine.”

Dedicated to that longing Love.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 25/05/2025
This heartfelt poem captures the raw ache of lost love, weaving nostalgia and emotional depth into every stanza. The poet reminisces about an intense and passionate bond once shared, now shadowed by absence and longing. Imagery of warmth, nature, and shared moments—like sunset rides around Gudivanka—evoke a deep sense of intimacy and connection that has been replaced by solitude and sorrow. The poet uses affectionate terms like "Chinna" and "bangari" to personalize the emotions and convey cultural depth, enhancing the authenticity of his love and pain.

The poem also highlights the conflict between love and materialism. As the beloved drifts away, lured by "wealth and fame," the speaker emphasizes the irreplaceable value of genuine affection—"a heart that beat for you alone." The final lines serve as a quiet lament and tribute to a love that once felt infinite. Through rhythmic language and soulful imagery, the poem leaves a lingering impression of yearning and the irrefutable truth that some treasures lie beyond what money can ever buy.
May 22 · 228
Shattered Love
Your false promises broke my trusting heart,
A two-faced love that played a cruel part.
You hid your true intentions from my sight,
And with disloyalty, ended our love's light.

Your lies were spoken softly, yet cut deep,
Your ambition consumed our love's sweet keep.
You chose power over me and our love's might,
And climbed the ladder of betrayal in the night.

Your touch, once gentle, now controlled my fate,
Each whispered lie, a fatal kiss to wait.
My heart is broken, shattered, lost, and sore,
Forever changed by the love we had before.

I mourn the loss of trust and our love's demise,
And weep for what could never be revived in your eyes.

Dedicated to such changing love.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 22/05/2025
The poem "Shattered Love" by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S delves into the emotional aftermath of betrayal in a romantic relationship. Through vivid imagery and emotive language, the poet captures the pain of broken trust and the heartache that follows deceit. The speaker reflects on the duplicity of their partner, who masked their true intentions behind soft words and gentle touches. The metaphor of love as a light extinguished by betrayal illustrates the depth of the speaker's sorrow and sense of loss. The line “You chose power over me” emphasizes the partner’s ambition and selfish choices, suggesting that the love shared was sacrificed for personal gain.

The poem also explores the transformation of love from something nurturing to something destructive. The lover’s touch, once comforting, becomes a symbol of control and manipulation. The poet mourns not only the end of the relationship but also the erosion of trust—an essential foundation of love. With a tone of sorrow and resignation, the final lines underscore the permanence of the emotional damage and the impossibility of reconciliation. The poem is a powerful expression of grief and disillusionment, dedicated to the experience of love that changes, falters, and ultimately breaks under the weight of betrayal.
May 21 · 142
Heartache
In Infinity's eyes, emptiness resides,
A hollow echo of promises she devised.
To lure Mine back, with deceitful grace,
But her heart remains a winter's frozen space.

Like autumn leaves, her words wither fast,
False vows scattered, leaving love aghast.
She forgot the gardens of my loving soul,
Where roses bloomed, and wildflowers made whole.

Infinity's spirit now a restless sea,
Tossed by waves of wealth and materiality.
She navigated away from love's calm shore,
Leaving Mine to drown in sorrow evermore.

My love was a rich tapestry, intricate and bold,
But she reduced it to mere threads of gold.
Used and discarded, like a worthless find,
Infinity's heart now a relic, left behind 💔.

Dedicated to the heart now a relic.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated:21/05/2025
The poem "Heartache" by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S is a poignant reflection on love betrayed and the emotional aftermath of being abandoned by someone once deeply cherished. Through vivid metaphors and symbolic language, the speaker recounts how "Infinity," a person once loved, lured them back with false promises, only to reveal a heart devoid of warmth or sincerity. The poet likens her words to withering autumn leaves and her intentions to a cold, unyielding winter. These natural elements emphasize the fragility and transience of her affection, contrasting sharply with the deep and nurturing love once offered by the speaker, described as a blossoming garden filled with roses and wildflowers.

As the poem progresses, the focus shifts to the spiritual and emotional cost of Infinity's choices. Her pursuit of wealth and superficial gains transforms her into a "restless sea," suggesting inner turmoil and instability. The speaker, left behind, is metaphorically "drowning" in sorrow, highlighting the depth of his emotional pain. The final stanza carries a tone of bitterness and loss, as the speaker compares his once vibrant love to a "rich tapestry" reduced to "mere threads of gold"—beautiful yet stripped of meaning. The heart once full of life and passion is now labeled a "relic," underscoring the irreversible damage caused by betrayal and emotional neglect.
May 20 · 127
Poet's Love
Infinity, once my forever shine so bright,
Your heart now blinded by wealth's fading light.
You prioritized position, power, and gold,
Over love, care, and time our hearts once did hold.
Did false pride make you forget trust's gentle might?

In our love, transparency was once our guide,
But ego and show-offs slowly stepped inside.
You started measuring love by material worth,
Leaving me, Mine, with a heart that suffered dearth.
Do you regret now, Infinity, that love's true birth?

Time once stood still when we shared gentle nights,
Whispers, laughter, and adventures felt just right.
But your pursuit of status and lavish display,
Made me feel like a trophy, not your heart's sweet way.
Is your heart still capable of loving without pride's sway?

Infinity, I wish you could see my pain,
A love that's pure, true, and forever remains.
Your wealth and title never won my heart's race,
Only your love, care, and gentle, loving face.
Will you return to me, and leave your ego's dark place?

Now I wonder, Infinity, do you feel alone,
Surrounded by riches, but a heart turned to stone?
I'm still Mine, loving you with all my might,
Waiting for the day you'll choose love's pure light.
Will you come back to me, and make our love shine bright?

Dedicated to the last love Infinity.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 20/05/2025
"Poet's Love" by Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S is a poignant and emotionally rich poem that explores the sorrow of losing love to material pursuits. Through the symbolic characters of "Mine" and "Infinity," the poet reflects on a relationship once rooted in transparency, care, and emotional depth, now dimmed by ego, pride, and the pursuit of wealth. Each stanza ends with a reflective question, emphasizing the poet’s longing and internal conflict, while challenging the reader—and perhaps the subject—to reconsider the value of genuine connection over societal status. The tone is deeply personal, lyrical, and filled with heartache, yet maintains a hopeful thread, yearning for reconciliation and the return of pure love.

The poem’s structure is consistent, using quatrains with a gentle rhyme scheme that supports its musicality. Symbolism and imagery, such as “heart turned to stone” and “blinded by wealth’s fading light,” effectively highlight the emotional shift in the relationship. The use of "Mine" and "Infinity" adds a layer of poetic abstraction, portraying the universal conflict between love and materialism. While the poem is emotionally powerful and sincere, a bit more sensory detail or clarification of the metaphors could enhance reader connection. Overall, it's a heartfelt, thought-provoking tribute to enduring love amidst emotional loss.
May 18 · 142
Last Love
For it took its birth,
From ashes and not mirth.
The form and content stood,
The purest form I understood.

For it came into me,
When my emotions were dead you see.
The care was a cure,
With no ill intent for sure.

For it ran into my nerves and blood,
The sheer love with no tears shed.
The time was dedicated on every stroke,
And the dead love in me instantly woke.

For now it is no longer the same,
But thankfully I am experienced in this game.
The care, love, emotions and time,
Are no longer seen as prime.

For it is the last,even when lost,
Never again at any cost.
No regrets on my present or past,
For it is the last, let it last.

Dedicated to that last which is going to last forever.

Dated: 14/02/2025
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Sure! Here's a three-paragraph note analyzing and reflecting on the poem:


---

This poem captures the emotional journey of someone who finds solace and revival through a deeply personal creation or connection, possibly a piece of art, love, or a meaningful experience. The opening stanza highlights that it was born not from joy, but from ashes—suggesting a rebirth or something meaningful emerging from pain or loss. The poet emphasizes that the form and content of this creation felt pure and deeply understood, signifying a profound bond.

As the poem progresses, it becomes clear that this experience entered the poet’s life during an emotionally numb period. It served as a healing force—something selfless and therapeutic. The poet portrays it almost as a lifeline that reinvigorated their spirit and reignited emotions thought to be long dead. The lines are filled with gratitude, and the metaphor of love running through blood and nerves adds a visceral, intimate tone to the transformation it caused.

The final stanza shows acceptance and maturity. The poet recognizes that while this experience or creation may not be the same anymore, the lessons and strength gained from it remain. There's a sense of closure—where love, care, and time are no longer the only values upheld. The poet proclaims it as the "last," not with bitterness but with clarity, choosing to let it last in memory and meaning. The dedication at the end reflects a hopeful permanence, cherishing what was once a healing force.


---

Let me know if you want a more literary or philosophical version!
May 18 · 121
Enigmatic Love
In twilight of love, where erstwhile warmth did shine,
A maiden fair, with heart of gold, did stray
From tender bonds of affection's sacred vine,
To pursue lucre's siren call, and fame's cold shrine.

Her eyes, once bright with love's luminous fire,
Now dimly gleam, like embers lost in night
Her touch, erst gentle as a summer's desire,
Now icy cold, as winter's distant, cruel light.

Yet still I hold on to memories of old,
When love's sweet magic made our hearts enfold.
But time flees swift, and if she does not see,
The love she lost, her heart will eternally be.
A prisoner of greed, and I of pain,
Forever longing for love that might have remained.

Dedicated to the last love of my Life.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 17/05/2025
May 18 · 126
Return of Love
She returns with tears, and a regretful sigh,
Seeking refuge in love she once denied.
But my heart, once open, now guarded and cold,
Wonders if her love's genuine, or tales oft told.

Her eyes, once bright with ambition's fire,
Now dimly sparkle with longing's desire.
Yet, in fleeting moments, I see the past,
A girl who cherished wealth and fame that wouldn't last.

Her words whisper sweet nothings, a gentle breeze,
But trust, a fragile bird, with broken wings, freezes.
My love for her remains, a constant, pure flame,
But understanding her heart's a puzzle, a endless game.

She changes swiftly, like shifting desert sand,
Leaving me questioning, on uncertain land.
Does she truly love, or merely escape,
The emptiness of wealth, and a lonely shape?

But still I ponder, on true love's mighty creed,
"A relationship isn't about possessing, but freeing"
True love embraces flaws, and heals the past,
Accepts the journey, forever to last.
If she can grasp this truth, and love with open heart,
Maybe, just maybe, we'll never be apart.

Dedicated to the last love of my life.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated: 17/05/2025
May 18 · 173
Heartening Love
In time's gentle hand, our love will grow old,
Care nourishes it, like a garden fair,
Emotions entwined, hearts beating as one told.
Relationship's beauty, beyond words to share,
Through laughter and tears, our bond will unfold,
With every breath, my love for you made bold.
You are my today, tomorrow, and past,
Forever with you, is where I am meant to last.

But time, a thief, steals moments we adore,
Yet love remains, an endless, pure flame,
Caring for each other, we'll walk once more,
Through life's journey, hand in hand, no shame.
In your eyes, my heart finds a peaceful nest,
With you, my love, time stands still, and love is best.

Dedicated to the last love of my life.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar S
Dated:18/05/2025
Jul 2020 · 277
Love In Abundance
As I grow closer to her,
Curiously and impatiently,
I can feel the touch,
Her pied beauty very much.

She is of variety,
In her colours in abundance,
So subtle in nature,
Lies her beauty in mighty.

There is wide space in her heart,
Which can shelter my love and art.
For the creator created her first,
And she is never here to impress.

I wish to settle in her,
For as many days I live.
Yes, I want to keep her love within,
And Alas! It’s a way of being.

Dedicated to her abundance love.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar

Dated: 20/07/2020
Jul 2020 · 232
Breaking For New
It is a recent happening,
Of the heart which was unwilling.
For the thought has disturbed,
But has kept the heart in peace.

I heard her giggling,
On the fresh water sizzling,
Way for the joy and glee,
Forced to see me and she.

She was undoubtedly pleased,
For the request I seized.
It was all happening,
She was all making.

I wondered for my life,
Why didn’t I meet her before?
Why not did I reach this shore?
Where love is from the core.

Maybe after a heartbreak,
And that ****** painful break.
I was destined for new,
As her last ashes I knew.

She is making difference,
Between love and happiness.
Love she ignores for the world,
And gives me happiness she never told.

Now I ask nothing more or less,
For I am filled in surprise.
For my hope has made a rise,
And hence I surrender to this sunrise.

Dedicated to my hope for life.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar

Dated: 19/07/2020
Jun 2020 · 307
A Dog Has Died
I saw him near this road,
When I was about to board.
I left him on its way,
And measured my college way.

It was evening when I returned,
I saw him lay as in way the same way.
I took pity which usually I don’t,
But I couldn’t leave knowing I don’t.

It was a stray one I believe,
As the scars were fresh on him.
With scribbling jaws he called,
For this man to watch.

I am not an animal lover,
Trust me I am not,
But I felt the blood on him,
And made a move to save him.

I fed him bread and I,
Led him space in the entrance.
With no time he started playing,
And started making me special.

I use to see him before,
And after college hours.
He was happy to see me,
With that innocent face.

After few days I noticed him barking,
For no reason stamping.
I found his eyes with an another,
Yes another on the other side of the road.

From that day he wouldn’t eat,
Nor go for sleep be it day or long night.
There was a revolt and eagerness,
I understood the reason for the freedom.

Though I never chained him,
Nor were the gates closed.
I chose to let him go,
For it was the time to go.

I never heard about him,
For few months and days,
But on my return from work,
On an Autumn evening guess what?

I saw him dead on the road side,
With all flesh flushed.
It was an accident,
Yes ,it was an accident.

Was my mistake to notice him?
Was my mistake to feed him?
Or was my mistake to let him go?
I think right now I can only lament .

Dedicated to the dog known and unknown.
Thala Abhimanyu Kumar
Jun 2020 · 3.9k
The Bench Story
It was made of cement and lime,
And expected no praise or any rhyme.
It was placed in the park,
Amidst few trees and growing leaves.

He used to come on every twenty seventh,
On dot from 6 to 8 in this heaven.
He was punctual even in rain,
Determined to reach the bench in pain.

It was the bench who was the witness,
The only witness after God’s inference.
It is the bench who can answer,
The repeated questions he used to repeat.

He was so soft on that hard seat,
And waited for that long meet.
He used to be quite in his thoughts,
Recollecting the moments just passed.

He could speak only to his soul,
Sometimes to the bench in whole.
He cried inner in and outer out,
On that bench his heart out.

No matter what, he was always there,
Be it rain, a fever, omen happening,
Infected, dejected or rejected signing.
He was there , yes he was there on the bench.

The bench wished to speak,
For it could bare no more weight,
The weight of his heavy heart,
And his cry for the constant try.

He was told by many for its of no use,
To wait for the gone and the wrong.
But he was adamant to protect his chaste love,
And to defend his chaste vow.

After a year and after lockdown,
Now the bench is empty,
With no weight of him,
Nor the wait of her.

The bench seems to be happy for knowing,
That he has learned lessons from his love.
Though the bench could never speak,
Yet he always heard the voice beneath.

He no longer waits on the bench,
Nor has any tears to shed.
But he misses the bench,
More than her and less than her love.

Dedicated to the bench in that waiting park.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar

Dated: 27/06/2020
Jun 2020 · 291
Once In A Month
It is okay for it is today,
You may be sad or bad,
Happy or frustrated,
Too deep or concentrated,
Remember or trying to forget,
Cherish or regret.

Let this day make you proud,
Put you in guilt or keep you still.
Just laugh aloud or cry silently,
Feel sorry or smile patiently.
Forget your present for a moment,
For a day, this day.

It is good to remember your past,
Remember the best and worst memories.
It is good to be sad,
And it is good to know,
You are still intact.

Yes, there are no more proposals,
No more expectations,
No more United but,
Its fine to be nostalgic,
For today, this day.

It’s fine to be ashamed,
Once in a while,
And to run from the past,
But remember it was you there,
It was you who experienced.

No matter what you are today,
What you want to become tomorrow.
It’s all fine to do this once in a while,
Once in a month, one day, this day.

Dedicated to past in my present.

Thala Abhimanyu Kumar

Dated: 27/05/2020

— The End —