Self-Pity or Loneliness ?Losing a bunch of keys
Brought home how alone
I was. Tears rolled down
For none to see. Mom,
Your vulnerable son
Cried alone. Tried alone
To cheer back up. Son,
I said to me, gone
Are those days. C'mon,
Go look for your keys.
Soon,
The search took over
Like music or mild fever.
Off my thoughts, I was delivered.
And I had my answer.
Maybe both, maybe neither.
Self-pity is a fact of nature,
part inseparable, you can't sever
from this frail constitution of ours'.
Is a mechanism mere,
neither virtue nor blunder,
to tackle, somehow bear
life's whims, tugs and shear.
Like the meds and care
of a good kind doctor,
Taken in dosage proper
and this mind is freer.
Loneliness is a fact sadder,
as being social is our nature.
We crave human company sure,
and human comfort even more.
Yet,
the soberer answer
to my helpless tears,
seems to me, is another
fact of my existence Here.
Pretend I will a coroner -
and may tad bit belabor,
but this mode is calmer -
given all evidences clear,
childhood couldn't have been better,
college was even sweeter,
present is neither really sour,
I enjoy good time and a beer,
thought, play, maidens and laughter,
am fortunate moreover
to have had friends sincere,
of all ways, suit and character.
But ... for the past year,
even with many friends here,
am lacking a friend circle dear,
so says me the coroner.
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Friend Circles that, but recently, always had been.
Now,
Poet I'll a pretend
Wax poetic to no End -
Poetry's solo act can never mend
this issue at my hand -
About a circle of friends.
Well,
how do I quite begin ?
To explicate on something
(A poet cut-analyzing
may well be a sin)
that, but recently, always has been.
And what always has been
a part of life's daily din
easily skips being Seen
by mind's eyes unseen.
That's precisely the reasoning
why it comes to me striking
Now when I am missing
that which always had been.
So is the case, not surprising,
with life's many precious things.
"Friend Circle",
the two words sure bring
a nice comforting ring.
And in their uttering,
we simultaneously sing
To two ideas gleaming,
perhaps common, yet amazing.
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Friendship
Of course,
Friendship is not just an idea.
It has a solider being.
A bond, two persons binding,
As tangible as any real thing.
But when one spends musing
on the idea of this bonding -
two animals each other helping,
together laughing maybe crying,
food talk walk stories jokes sharing,
quibble some, in the end forgiving.
(A moving example, Seth's penning :
Maan-Firoz's simple fun and caring
one, impulsive lazy friendly daring,
other, equable, royalty but hardworking)
Lightens the soul's solitary navigating,
on Earth, this ephemeral journeying -
it comes to you with null forcing,
how amazing indeed is this Friendship thing.
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The Circle
And,
Circle is another idea brilliant.
Perhaps more so than Friends,
a citizen of the Idea land.
Yet, it too exists among us men !
In a tumbler's rim, a hula hooper's hand,
In the ubiquitous Wheel's rotating end.
In the baby's toy, teen's doodles on weekend,
In the marriage ring, Grandpa's glasses' lens.
But not just objects of life, precious to mundane,
It also abounds aplenty in our vocations, hidden.
In the judge's mallet, the hammer of a sweaty mason,
the flutist's flute-holes, the farmer's hat under the sun.
In a factory-worker's cycle, rhetoric of the politician,
the factory-owner's watch with a chain pretty golden.
In the doctor's stethoscope, potter-wheel of an artisan,
the gun-barrel of the criminal and also the policeman's.
In the angel's halo praised in a priest's refrain,
In money's circular flow 'tween bank, corporations and man.
Also in our endeavors not quite common trend,
like arts and mathematics, disciplines grand,
even sciences, my own particular brand,
in writings, e.g. The Circle Game,
in Pantheon's majestic domed circumference,
the generous circle does beauty lend,
asking no interest, paying bountiful dividends.
Yet, its presence outside the sphere of men,
one may be tempted to say, is grandest great,
while beholding the setting sun's contour red,
or that of the dew drop on a lotus leafy bed,
or countless joyous things on nature's slate.
I'd better stop before you cringe of circle surfeit !
To end this soliloquy,
This perfect mother of Pi,
in its own simplicity,
(centers' equidistant loci)
inspired civilizations and, thence, history.
Yet barring its profundity,
its conceptual clarity
presents itself in our tongues daily,
serving well the spoken word's utility.
And it is this familiarity
that one forgets Circle's own history,
how it has helped humanity.
Take a moment to appreciate its glory.
And even if you don't do so willingly,
the Circle won't care really !
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A Friend Circle
Wow !
Been waxing poetic to no end,
about all 'cept the poem's desired end.
And it is to this end,
will steer the poem's bend.
So, what is a friend circle, my friend ?
(An obvious question has answer bland)
Well,
it is the spice and condiment of daily grind,
a button that zaps boredom to pastime,
emits conversations of all random kinds,
or sometimes just a silent pat behind.
The What obvious, still not trivial to find.
Like truth or liberation or peace of mind.
Like the Happenstance of a tender sapling,
the planter in "control", the universe guides,
It chance grows, given the soil and clime,
organically, like that sapling, over due time,
into a living thing of unique shade and size,
with hobbies, passions, and cute idiosyncrasies.
And comes in unending variety, this prized
creation of social man since so many centuries,
not limited but subject to, age, sex and creed,
the peaceful one love, the bitter or sinister hate breed.
And also dies naturally, if not killed -
which is sad as any unnatural death -,
like a seasonal plant or a shady tree,
having lived a short or a long life beautifully.
And I am like that traveler in a bind,
no inn in sight, seeking these trees kind.
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Missing you, Dear Friend Circle
Presently,
A close circle's absence does clear remind,
what we all probably know inside,
that for all the fun it provides
(which I still have besides)
what matters at certain times,
are few close friends (or a companion) you can call insist
to be there, even when there is no practical need.
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PS : written in March-April '10.
