Music of Words

I closed my eyes and allowed it to pass,

pass those long held emotions

which were making my heart heavy

and a lesser version of myself.

What I saw was a Piano

whose notes did my bidding

and sounded my voice.

It felt like winning.

I never stopped and kept on arranging

a work which I didn’t plan but just did.

I saw anger leave my body and felt the absence of aching.

Sound of music which made me lose

the reality which was around

Is something I would choose

every time I wish to be found.

But when I opened my eyes I saw this poem

and the lights on my keyboard where all bright.

Here I was thinking that I was creating music

while I was simply jotting down some words.

I was correct to think that

because Poetry is the music of words.

May I have your attention please!

Dear Bloggers/Patrons/Fellow creative minds,

Thank you for reading this post and clicking on The Poet and the Pen.

I have been writing Poems and Short Stories for over 4 years now and have always wanted to write a book. In regards to the same, it gives me immense pleasure to announce that very soon my first book, Silent Words, will be published.

I hope you all will show your love and support to this new venture of mine.

What is this book?

This book is a collection on Poems on various topics and emotions and stories. Hope you will find it interesting to read.

Who is the Publisher?

Delhi Poetry Slam (one of India’s biggest Poetry society).

It will be available on Amazon (both Hardcopy and e-Book)

The Preview:

SilentWords_3dmockup

I would really really appreciate if you guys would buy it once it releases. I will share the Amazon link and other details once the book gets published.

Please do read it, review it and help this Poet start on this new journey of his.

Do let me know about your thoughts and suggestions in the comment section below.

Lots of Love

-Nishant

Sleepless in…

 

It has been a while now.

That loop which got broken

Refuses to get fixed.

I am devoid of sleep.

Even though my eyes want,

they refuse to stay shut.

Sleeplessness haunts,

Inability hurts.

I do not know if I am alright,

Just that I am tired deep inside.

I hope that tonight

it won’t hide. Sleep.

 

 

I cannot sleep.

-Nishant, The Poet and the Pen

Old strings new tunes

In the deepest corner of my room

6 old strings stood from distant past.

It wasn’t an accident that I discovered

Something which was already there since the start.

Many fond memories ran like a reel

Inside the projector of my heart

And then suddenly I started to feel

As if a sin had been committed on my part.

Old tunes stopped and strings never reverberated

Because I gave up on them,

Fallacy got me distracted.

I gave up on them.

Music was lost after a while

And I had to fill that void with noise.

We never love something which is not our style

6 old strings were my choice.

But now I am back and they are still there

Waiting to be played.

With old strings and new tunes I today declare

Resumption of my parade.

Even in the loudest nights now,

My tunes shall not fade.

We always return to the place we belong. We always find the things which are meant for us. Even though we walk away from them, life gets us back to them and it is at that moment when we realise that it was all meant to be.

Nishant, The Poet and the Pen

The silent

 

My silence today may say that I am weak,

Hold on to that thought.

You have all the right to speak,

Anything that floats your boat.

They say clouds that thunder seldom rains,

My fury is never spent in vain.

You had your word, I dare you to say again,

I promise you… We quiet ones are insane.

Go ahead, boast of your false valour,

But don’t ever think I will stay put.

To understand you must have a stature.

Ignorant one, hope that I don’t set my foot.

 

I was Me

Every time the dusk got delayed,

Or the morning sun felt harsh,

Sound of life seemed disarrayed,

Or water disappeared in the marsh,

Loved ones took a separate turn,

Old enemies met at the crossroads,

Water started to burn,

And decrypted were all my codes,

I came to this place I now call home.

 

There is always a place for me,

Here I am always allowed to be,

The person you see every now and then.

I cannot tell you how but,

The Poet and the Pen (my blog) saved me.

I was always Me.

 

Blogging has this beautiful thing in it. It makes you feel so special, so connected to yourself. Sometimes I find out so much about so many things when I sit behind this blog and dive into the World of Words.

Blogging is a good addiction and I am addicted.

250: Thank You

250th post. Each Post (on The Poet and the Pen) is done with the sole purpose of spreading a message. Message of Care, Fun, Love, Laughter, Happiness and Emotions.

I grow each and every day through this blog and many of you out there who just like me are on a quest to make the world a better place, I want to say Thank You.

We blog not for likes, comments, shares or anything. We blog so that someone who reads this irrespective of his country, location, colour, language and situation gets to know that we are here, we are with you and if we can do it so can you.

Lots of Love.

 

 

For every tear that you dropped in silence,

For every goodbye that scathed your heart,

For every smile that you projected despite inner violence,

For every day you played your part,

For every friend you lost and let go,

For every enemy you won by letting go,

For every step you took for a better tomorrow,

For every brave moment you faced your inner sorrow,

For every harsh truth you accepted,

For proving that you cannot be defeated,

For not treating the world as you were treated,

For spreading the good message that your misery created,

Thank You.

I want you to read “it”

 

I am an addict.

I cannot live without it.

An insurmountable urge from within,

Makes it impossible to quit.

It.

It here is a habit,

Which shoots my wit

And makes me unfit,

Or as they say, misfit.

To find peace I chose to commit,

To my inner voice I submit.

But atleast I am not a hypocrite,

For I have the courage to admit.

Funny, your thoughts right now,

Whispering the signs of distress.

But I never disclosed “it”.

Maybe I didn’t want to impress.

 

~ Not all addicts and addictions are bad. Mine is Writing.