Category: Poetry

by retrodiction



Not Everything

by retrodiction

I wish I could tell you there is a point to all of this.


Some higher purpose,

Some greater function,



Sometimes, some things just are

Some times, some things can’t

Have a deeper meaning


And so there are days like Today, where

Nothing feels right in the world and

I wish I could find a way

To let my story unfurl,


That even though we both know

There’s only one dimension

We’ll still stick it in a goddamn bottle

And make a kaleidoscope.

so if you say it is, who am i to say it’s not.

by retrodiction


I do not know how to put pen to paper, or voice my thoughts.

they make as much sense to me as they do to you.

so, you see, your words they prick me with its callousness,

and now, as always, i sit and smile and nod, at your ignorance.

you assume, and you assume, and you assume,

that i am what you think and that you most understand,

but you cannot even begin to imagine, the depths of my despair.

you do not ask, you direct. and you have assigned me a blame most unfair.

inwardly my heart aches and cringes,

but you see my silent form, look to you,

as though dumb and mute.

and you say, ‘this attitude is fucked up!’

and you point all your fingers, and you pat me on the back.

and you say…. you are only concerned.

but, by no slip of the tongue, you say ‘buck up!’

then you dictate all my hard work to be worthless;

though you know naught of the lengths that i have gone to,

and the hells i have traversed, to save this minute dignity….

only so that i may bear to live.

so you ask, for my respect, that i should know,

what perils i subject to your accountability.

but dignified is not the man who asks, but who gives,

and in return receives.

so i do not know, what words can absolve me of my alleged crimes.

even the vilest murderers have a prosecution.

i know… i know.

my silence will be my undoing, but



that i must be, if my turbulent soul is to have reprieve.



by retrodiction

Pulsing through your veins is

A molten fire red.

Swift it comes and goes, yet

Stain it will, the host.

In dying embers grey,

Of winter black and blue,

No warm a fireplace as





Heart, and

Mind, and


Hi, do leave a comment on what you think about this poem. I’m thinking of submitting it for a competition under the theme “Passion”. Your opinions are greatly appreciated! Thank you(:

by retrodiction

Tonight I might set my affairs in order,

And lay myself to rest till all is over,

Because the world is just a mess,

And life a mere test, so what is left,

When it all ends, is not the worst or the best,

But an anger abated at the least,

And a silence that forever holds my peace.

Child’s Play

by retrodiction

All my little heart desires, is for the great beyond.

Leave landings and chase trains of thoughts,

Where it matters not how little it’s size.

Draw once, twice— perchance— thrice the unlucky lots.

Then, with luck, might it see that I grow wise.


Dream dreams for sure too huge for my heart.


Much rather I drown than live dreary.

Then will it seem that life be a living art.


Play pretend till such a time it comes my way,

Set sail! Set sail! Ahoy the blue seas,

Never again shall I envy by the bay.

Be as free, as free as can be,

Then more, perhaps, like Hobbits in shire, I’ll berth my own beyond.



by retrodiction

You don’t see the things I see,

Nor feel the things I do.

Said it isn’t meant to be,

But it was never I who chose you.

Little moments have come,

And lesser time has gone,

Yet I am sure this must be home.


Over again, shall I see and not be seen.

Might I stay put at where I’ve always been,

Wishing, willing, to rise above the din.

Yet more it seems, that gravity should win.


Once again, shall I hear and not be heard.

Like how dawn brings the morning song of birds.

But no warning can sound any more absurd,

Than the ones sung loud to the world unheard.


Then again, I chose to bear all that I bore.

Let it be on my sleeves that my heart I wore.

See, and hear, to hurt till sullen and sore.

Yet back again I come, begging for more.


I see the parallels drawn,

Between now and then,

And the many days beyond.

Fall I shall, again and again,

Far too quick, and all too easy,

To give more love in vain.

Know nothing more makes me as queasy,

Than my wittingly seeking this bane.

For in fate’s eyes I see disdain,

To seal this mournful pain.

Let Love In.

by retrodiction

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green,

Dare you set it free with the wind?

Try with all your might not to hide,

This difference is no cause for the tide.

Feel no shame, nor fear blind fury,

It gets better my dear, don’t worry.

Love is love, that soon they’ll learn,

But for now they lie and say you’ll burn.

Blue, Indigo and Violet hues,

Celebrate the colours — celebrate you!

With cruel words they pick you apart,

Pretending to fix what they call a ‘broken’ heart.

Forget the ignorant things they do,

For they know not half as much as you.

So listen up, and listen well,

The waters, earth and air have much to tell.

Where the sun outshines the rain and cloud,

You’ll find bright rainbows, out and proud.

You are no more alone than I am wrong,

To fight for that which we all should long.

Equality might not come easy,

But stay it will, so love strong and freely.

Part 3.

by retrodiction

I don’t know how to make you understand

That this is not at all who I am.

Should I contemplate death by my own hand,

That is my crying wolf for a lone lamb.

None the braver but to peer off an edge,

Pounding hearts the veritable whisper,

Exposing my false empty words of fledge.

Time to right wrongs, I silently whimper.

Time to heal wounds I hoard like a miser.

Time to fall, time to end, time to begin again.

Yet time does make me none the wiser.

A wish to will a way, with much chagrin,

An exit from life’s winding labyrinth.


by retrodiction

Love from a father, a mother, a lover.
Love from a friend, life most oft deliver.
Try as they might to be invincible,
Lord knows, love is anything save simple.
Primly laced to hide the tattered edges,
Pepper prayers to fix the broken bridges,
“If you ignore it, it doesn’t exist”
That is a code we willingly persist.
Such a perfect picture it is we paint,
To hide from a life we refuse to taint.
So mar the soul and will it to implode.
Pay penance for the now neglected load.