Each precious moment

Life isn’t idyllic or beautiful, the crisp breeze doesn’t
always complement the scent of the grass,
but if you say, when you stand before the
Great Throne, ‘I wish I’d never existed!’
Honestly, sincerely and truthfully, the words
a cry of your heart than the outpouring of blandness
from your mouth, then I assure you that you’ll
be spared judgement.

The ways of this world are mysterious and the ways
of God more mysterious because none can comprehend the
latter even if they clasp the former and know its secrets.

He gives and takes away.
He bestows richness on the wicked and sends
the broken to more misery.
But these things are best left unfathomed
because knowing is seeing tears
on David’s face as Absalom’s blood finds
the ground.

Each moment you live you devour with insatiable
hunger, and yet cry for something better than manna,
despondency is just a bard’s lament or the
theatre of the charlatan,
we create most of our sorrow because most grief
stems from pure selfishness –
a sense of abandonment,
a longing for something else,
a betrayal of the conscience,
a bitterness for each blow delivered,
a rage against norms,
a hatred towards oneself,
a resignation via self-pity.

Life is often scented with mildew
and my chin is weak and my body frail
and one uppercut sends me to the floor
and I foolishly stay knocked down,
and write sonnets about the spittle-ridden
and bloodied mat.

And you say, ‘Beautiful! Mesmerizing! Such depth!’
But I ask you what’s deep about sinking in a
shallow pond,
I ask you what’s beautiful about clawing my
heart out and serving it on a platter,
I ask you what’s mesmerizing when it’s the
same trick, the same illusion I gave you,
just done differently each time.

Life isn’t beautiful, but I’ll live it anyway
and one day if light seeks me out and brightens
this oubliette, and destroys both the trapdoor
and the walls, I’ll walk away from all I’ve
ever known, and if you found me, you’ll
see someone just surer of his convictions,
but still the same, like the old oak that lost
its branch in the storm yesterday, but still
stands strong tomorrow.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

Protected by Copyscape

11 responses

  1. And yet, this IS beautiful. You know what I love about your writings is that each and every time I can hear your heart. You pour everything you’ve got in that moment into each piece. So whether you’re soaring in love or groveling on the floor, I’m right there with you. And some of it I know first-hand because these thoughts so closely mirror my own. And I’m a wicked wretch and I’m clinging to God even though I’ve not heard from Him in years and I’m in love with someone who might or might not retaliate but life and miles separate us. And then I read what you’ve written here and I can say, damn yeah he knows exactly what life is all about. This is real life shit. A shallow pond?? No but a deep well that has been dipped out of so many times it feels shallow and familiar. Thank you for writing. Thank you for sharing such a part of you. I cherish each one I read, truly.

    • Tara, I cannot thank you enough for such a beautiful comment. It truly moved me and encouraged me to keep pouring my heart out when I write. You resonating with my work like that made my day. The beautiful thing about you, my friend is that you see yourself as a flawed person and carry on despite your imperfections. You don’t wear masks or call yourself ‘good’. I see myself that way too and try my best to move on through art though the past often weighs me down. We both have a wealth of experience and that gives us profound insight into the functionings of this world which sometimes borders on madness. But remember that madness sets us apart from everyone else who’s too busy conforming and leading ‘normal’ lives and gives us this gift of art which we use to articulate our core. I may not comment much but I enjoy reading your work too. It comes from the heart and that’s poetry.

  2. This…. this is a beautifully tragic poem. A path that many experience yet, unable to articulate as well as you have here.

    Bravo… well done dear poet.

  3. I am taken aback by your words! You express things in such a way, it can’t help tug on the heart strings of emotional pain. I have read several of your pieces, and have thoroughly enjoyed each one, even though the subject is not an easy one to tackle. But great work, and you’ve just earned yourself a new follower! Sx :)

    • Thank you so much for your kind words. Yes, I have seen and continue to see a lot of pain in my life and I’m an emotional person and so, my lines reflect what I feel. And I’m very humbled when someone relates to what I have to say. I think you’re reading my earlier work when I infused my writing with anger and offended a few people here and honestly I’m not proud of it at all. I’m looking to write for my own pleasure and write gentler, kinder pieces now. It’s always better to be sorrowed than angry and I’ve learned that the hard way.

  4. I’m not sure which one’s you’re referring to that might have caused offence, but in my mind if you’re writing straight from the heart, it’s the understanding, the honesty and the truths that are important, not how someone else may interpret it.

    It takes courage to write about such personal things, and even more to openly share your thoughts and feelings. So no one has a right to judge you, or tell you that you are right or wrong in how you feel. Keep it up, because your words will heal you in the end, I know that for myself. Sx :)

    • True, sincerity in poetry is what I aim for but sometimes when you use an angry muse, you feel the reciprocal effect don’t you? It comes in the form of guilt or old wounds being scraped again. But thank you so much for encouraging me using your kind words. If you can find healing through your writing, then I can do too. I know I can. Thanks again my friend :)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: