Wordplay, Mingling on The Middle Path

By Abhishek Kumar Singh

Waited for calls

 stared at walls

  pointed in halls

 Briefed of withdrawls

Cooked once ate thrice

Hooked for the prize

Who knows if its demise

Stayed in the books like a nerd

Hinted always to be part of the herd

Hindered never knew how to fly like a bird

Here there is a Pandit and there's a Pope

Tell me my beloved do we have any hope

Thoughts are often deeper than ocean

How are we different if both our skins burn

Lets hurl stones at each other here your turn

Using these hands as carefully as a mortician

Chewing something hastily that's already bitten

Carrying your sins around like Mariner's Albatross hitten

Talking to someone who raised inflection

Pointing out all my facts were pure imperfection

Confirming his own ardent diction

Walking ahead leaving behind reflection

Spoke while muting the masses

It's those days when they overfill people's vases

While keeping their hands closer to the maces

Its all about the sip

You got a side to pick

Hurry up be quick

Caste catharsis causing cadaverous cacophonous calamity

Caricature criticism censured committee

There's nothing that i have learnt

Hanged to these trees and burnt

You're the hunted still going for the hunt

You were suppossed to pay attention you weren't

Came into this world with Tabula Rasa a clean slate

No pre conceived notions no bias, love or hate

Broaden your eyesight all exits lead to the same gate

Wandering the nights as if lost spirits

Hearing the noises of the crickets

Longing to meet you even for minutes

• Abhishek kumar Singh

Mingling on the middle path

Filling pages, meditating sages, four stages, everything ages , nothing called wages

Is it really opium

What can be done bare minimum

If one's Life is lacking momentum

It is the solution leaving this stadium

And joining the so called Universal kingdom

Or is it all mere fanaticism

So many voices its deafning

Everyone trying to be leading

Background noises I'm not understanding

It's your area keep elaborating

But that's one opinion you're insinuating

Repetitive rigorous rigid remains

Sacrosanct seamless sentiment synthesis

Several colours but it's the same sketch

Saying other ones are pale is a stretch

Look closely for meaning around the hedge

And tie up these so called loose edge

Drawing lines and boundaries for the minimal

You're the nadir and I am the pinnacle 

You're alien and i am aboriginal

The condition is mingle with us or become invisible

We have the numbers game you're vincible

Soon you'll become fictional and then apparitional

Jumbling Belief,

Mumbling Chief,

Attaining Relief,

Causing Disbelief!

Taking middle path instead of a road

Followed the river from its origin to where it flowed

Sat there with my eyes closed

Waited there like a sunflower till the sun glowed

Love for all is the message

Keep mingling with people in this life’s cottage

So your exit from here becomes an easy passage

Fire, mud and box in the end we all have the same linkage.

By Abhishek Kumar Singh