SOAR TO SKY! THE TENACIOUS.

Oh, how wonderful it is to be compared to an eagle,
soaring through the skies with grace and power!
It's almost as if I, mere mortal that I am, Possess the same majestic qualities as this king of birds.
Alas, as I sit here hunched over my table of books,
Pecking away at the pen like a frantic little sparrow,
I can't help but feel that the comparison is slightly misplaced.
Nevertheless, I shall take comfort in the thought
That at least in someone's gleaming, limped and sparkly eyes,
I am as fierce and formidable as the eagle.

The poem presents the contrast between the narrator's aspirations to be majestic like an eagle and the reality of their mundane life. The narrator feels inadequate as they compare themselves to the soaring bird, yet they take comfort in the idea that someone might see them as equally formidable. This contrast highlights the human tendency to aspire to greatness, yet struggle to reconcile those dreams with the limitations of reality. The poem speaks to the universal experience of feeling small and insignificant in the face of our grand ambitions, but also finding solace in the thought that we are capable of more than we give ourselves credit for.

The poem also touches on the power of perception and how it can shape our sense of self-worth. The narrator finds comfort in the idea that someone sees them as fierce and formidable, even if they do not see themselves in that way. This raises the question of how much weight we should give to other people's opinions of us, and whether or not we should allow those perceptions to define our own self-image.

Furthermore, the poem highlights the value of embracing our own unique qualities and strengths. The narrator may not possess the same physical attributes as an eagle, but they have their own talents and abilities that make them special. It reminds us that we should not compare ourselves to others or hold ourselves to impossible standards, but rather focus on developing our own strengths and abilities.

In conclusion, the poem captures the internal struggle of balancing our aspirations with reality, the power of perception in shaping our self-worth, and the importance of embracing our own unique qualities. It reminds us to be kind to ourselves and to find comfort in the thought that we are capable of greatness in our own way.

Comments

The Defiler.

(Aadil Ghulam Bhat) (A Dramatic Monologue) I stand alone, a monument of flesh, Chiseled by greed, by power's coarse command, My hands, once pure, now bathed in scarlet hue, The blood of men who wore the same soft skin. Do you see me now, within this mirrored gaze? A tyrant crowned by sorrow's hollow wreath, A king of dust, with shadows for my throne, My breath a gale that snuffs the weaker flame. Where once was light, I cast an endless night, And in my eyes, the stars themselves grow dim. I break the bonds that held us close as kin, And forge new chains of iron, cold and sharp. I hear their cries, yet turn a deafened ear, For in their pain, I find my twisted peace. I trample love beneath my heavy heel, And let it bleed into the barren earth. I walk this path, alone yet not alone, ...

Read Full»

When I was but a shadow

Aadil Ghulam Bhat Poet and Author A dramatic monologue Ah! those days, those cursed days—when I was but a shadow, Dancing in her light—was it light or was it darkness? I cannot tell. She called herself the sun, the center of it all, And I, the orbiting moon, content to bask in her glow. How foolish was I to believe such illusions, To think that warmth was love, and light was life. She spoke of love, yes—often, with fervor— Yet her words were hollow, echoing through the empty chambers of my heart. For what is love to one who sees only herself? What is devotion but a tool, a means to an end, To chisel away at my being until nothing remained? I was clay in her hands, molded to fit her desire, Yet never enough, never whole, always lacking. Do you see how she looked at me? Or through me, perhaps? Her eyes—cold mirrors,...

Read Full»

In conversation with Tagore

Aadil Ghulam Bhat Poet & Author. (Where the mind is without fear A nd the head is held high; Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;) ~ Rabindranath Tagore O h dear Tagore! the lament of the written words—this sacred art, Once a medium for profound contemplation, it has now been diminished to the triviality of emails and text messages. I can’t help, but imagine how you might have navigated this digital chaos.Perhaps you would have found yourself calling as an Instagram poet, crafting pithy 280-character gems of wisdom into condensed, bite-sized pieces perfectly suited for the fleeting attention spans of scrolling fingers. Your insightful reflections on the human condition would likely be drowned in a sea of hashtags like #LiteraryNoble and #nobleforlikes, lost amid an endless parade of selfies a...

Read Full»

Aadil Ghulam Bhat

Search This Blog