Freedom Preetham

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I had trapped a phantom bird,

in an imaginary cage called hope.

It fed on seeds of memories,

drank salty pearls from the pupil's cup.

Couldn't tell if the bird was alive,

or an act of marionette from the hurting soul.

Or was it the shadows of the mind,

playing tricks from the heart’s black hole?

Was it the sounds of clarinets,

or the pecking on the cage's door to elope?

Was it melodies of pain,

of the bird, or the hurting soul of mine?

Unable to bear, the cage I opened.

To the edge of the stars, the bird was taken.

The bird flew along the lights of the milky way.

Leaving behind the heart to decay.

The shattered hope, what an ordeal.

A hurting soul, could it be concealed?

Broken heart, will it heal?

The phantom bird, but where is the real?




A hummingbird lost in the desert,

lured by the claret cups of cactus.

Exotic tropical vine,

red spectrum bright and factious.

Enduring the arid climate,

and the prickly spines, so vicious.

The bird sipped its last sweet nectar,

as the sun set on the abstract lattice.

As the cactus closed its door,

the bird endured the nights of cold.

Not losing faith in love,

reminiscing potent scents of memories.

As the bird hummed its poems of glory,

the cactus tore its wings with its stories.

~ Freedom



I want to liberate myself,

from the depleted lifelines of endurance.

to go explore the inner paths within my soul.

From the riff-raffs and the pain.

The elixir of joy we rained.

The glorious memories of cherished times.

By the time I realized,

you never had intentions to fly together.

I had holes in my wings,

from the strong gale winds.

We were like kites in a hurricane,

but you were tethered to a different string.

I will re-bridle; fix my frame and spine.

But your washed colors on me will remain.

~ Freedom



I went on a search amongst the ranks of the wanderlusts.

To find the pieces of my heart.

Un-healing soul reminiscing unrequited thoughts.

Unanchored in uncharted territories, still could not untether from your spells cast.

The peak of the Balkans nor the valleys could stop the leaky eyes.

Now I understand that you are ingrained in every essence of me.

Should I stop fighting to let you go?

And let you be, so that you can let me be?

~ Freedom



Enticing anthers,

a vibrant garden of lies.

Surrogate flowers,

a forest full of guise.

Surreal nature,

misty veils on the reprise.

Blind heavens,

a carnival for the wise.

Wispy willows,

are they lullabies or goodbyes?

Dreamt of an oasis,

turned out a mirage in the skies.




First glance of you on stage,

I said lord, please let her be mine forever.

First time when you insisted to kiss,

I held you tight and waited for a measure.

First time when our lips met,

passion burned, and the souls tethered.

Our first cuddle rocked the water bed,

no humor lost, we were bound together.

Half and four, eons well spent.

A whole lot of firsts, in spirits and letters.

The last time I stood alone in the woods,

memories haunt, but a life I will treasure.

You came into my life, my butterfly,

and took my breath away, forever.

~ Freedom



Scratches on my vintage vinyl,

I ignored the noise in them signals.

Tried tuning a broken guitar,

pouring melodies into torn hymnals.

Synesthesia caught the disdaining dancer,

blind love overlooked the crippled colors.

Hieroglyphs on the temple walls,

foretold prophecy of selfish betrayal.

Held on helplessly to chord progressions,

unwilling to heal from disharmony.

And the colors stopped, only void remained.

Signal lost, noisy drops rained.

Drenched cold, besides the sea,

disillusioned, no fire to dry.

At that moment I heard a whale sing,

that everything I need is within me.

~ Freedom



Betwixt what was said,

and what was understood.

A universe of yearning lies.

Forgiven maladies,

Forsaken melodies,

Forlorn mellow, dies.

Broken dreams won’t sleep,

their heart is stirred.

Broken souls can’t speak.

they can only be heard.

~ Freedom



Dark swallowtails,

on the water hemlocks.

Black neon bright,

a toxic wedlock.

Diamond rattle tails,

looming in the shadows.

Trapped a waning gibbous,

in murky streams of shallow.

As the night suspends,

the soul is set afire.

When the dance ends,

you will not survive her.

~ Freedom



Freedom Preetham

Freedom Preetham

Founder, | Math | Artificial Intelligence | Quantum Fields | Cognitive Science | Music | Poetry |