Better than Faith

“The things by which our emotions can be moved – the shape of a flower or a Grecian urn, the way a baby grows, the way the wind brushes across your face, the way the clouds move, their shapes, the way light dances on the water, or daffodils flutter in the breeze, the way in which the person you love moves their head, the way their hair follows that movement, the curve described by the dying fall of the last chord of a piece of music – all these things can be described by the complex flow of numbers.That’s not a reduction of it, that’s the beauty of it.” – Douglas Adams in Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency

Gentle fractals rise and fall
Capture all that's mystical
Emerges music exquisite
In respect of the master's visit.

Yet what visit? Such paradox -
As master is that subtle fox
Who in infinite momentum
Is dynamic in equilibrium.

Whizzing ceaselessly, yet static,
That blissful resting kinetic
Composed, composing composition
Of his united reflection.

Myriad of changing forms and lines
The distinct furs of sweet felines
Is her in yet another shade,
Connecting life - of what lives are made.

Universal, yet personal;
The triggers soft, affectionate -
That guide tears and happiness
All in cause of her finesse.

Twisting in strands the secret key
Of Individuality
Makes universe most wondrous;
All in virtue of the numerous.

Elusive in duality
Her wave-particle entity
Who prospers in her connection
That weave intimate emotions.

Relations mathematical
Define each of the particles
That ride on joyous harmonics
And delight all with nature's tricks.

So scoff not: "He's no musical!
No member of the cathedral,"
For He the small, yet vast as all
Unites what's truly beautiful.

This poem is dedicated to my mother, for being crazy about the arts, teaching me to be crazy abuot the arts, and for desperately wanting a poem dedicated to her.

Fading the light...

A poem on the effect of underage smoking on society, in India.

They lure you in while you’re still young;
“Smoke our brand, and you’re up one rung!”
Disgusting at first, then it begins to grow on,
And soon you’re hooked, you’re now their pawn.

Walk down the street and there they are,
Packets lined like soldiers, battling at par.
Twists out of a chimney, she weaves through the air;
Her beauty, the devil’s ultimate snare.

Expected to work miracles with grades,
Your mind’s full of ticking grenades.
Your family’s in absolute disarray
And recently, you realised you’re gay.

Your father’s left you, your mother’s broke,
You saw your girlfriend with another bloke.
Your insides gnaw, your anxieties overload;
Without this vent, you’d surely explode.

The strike of a matchstick, the birth of a flame,
The click of a lighter, set fire to the shame.
The silent pressure of peers drives you to sin;
It almost feels comfortable to peacefully give in.

Your emotions are heightened till they could break,
Inside, you laugh, cry, scream at every wake,
Your boyfriend does it by the chain…
“Just one sniff…” you think, “if only to ease the pain?”

Your Grandpa died of cancer last year,
Your mother’s lungs inspire mounting fear
All-pervading whiffs of tobacco are home to you,
It’s slightest absence seems to give you the flu.

You say it’s illegal, since when?
That kid they’re selling to couldn’t be more than ten!
I’ve heard laws are stringent elsewhere.
From where I am, they surely don’t care.

Statistics pile up in the economist’s notebook:
A million teenagers hanging on the industry’s hook.
Millions of tobacco-related deaths a year,
Cripple generations everywhere.

We are impressionable to infinity.
We could make, or break a society.
Victims of influence, we walk this earth
Fading the light of this age's worth.

I'll admit, this isn't among my best poetry, but I felt like I needed to broaden myself in my work. While this poem might not flow as well, it is the first social piece of poetry I've written, so I guess it's a start. :)