Spring day

A bright blue spring day,
Fills my senses with mighty gay,
As the breeze razes up my day,
I storm around in my brazen ways,
Loosing myself in the curvy by lanes,
I discover the mushy greens of the inland ways.
And swaying to the wind swept flumes,
I dance to my looney tunes,
drinking in the morning dew,
I sing the blues.
The air is crip and clear,
Alas I feel free as a deer,
Beautiful and alive the world seems,
With endless promises  and surprises indeed,
Smiles galore I swing jauntily,
And meet my day incredulously.

Vagaries of nature

Strange are these vagaries of nature,

Quirky yet absolute in stature,

Sometimes benign in their appearance,

and deadly to the point of significance,

I cannot find measure in everything seen and felt,

And I find myself loosing sense in the present,

If only there was a definition of consequence,

That would lead me to the prism of deliverance,

Standing in the midst of the nature's storm,

I hope to lean towards the greater calm,

Looking into ocean of existentialism,
I finally see meaning in the realism,
For as strange as these vagaries of nature may seem,
There always is meaning in their seeming inevitability.

Here’s a cleaner version of your poem, with a focus on sharpening the language and flow while preserving its philosophical reflections:

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**The Vagaries of Nature**

Strange are the vagaries of nature,  

Quirky, yet absolute in their stature.  

Sometimes benign in their appearance,  

And deadly in their quiet significance.  

I cannot find measure in all I see and feel,  

And often lose my sense of the present.  

If only there were a definition of consequence,  

That could lead me to a prism of deliverance.  

Standing amidst nature's storm,  

I long to lean toward the greater calm.  

Gazing into the ocean of existentialism,  

I finally see meaning in realism.  

For as strange as these vagaries may seem,  

There’s always meaning in their inevitable stream.  

---

Friends in arms

Caught in the legions of adverse reality,
Lived two friends in utmost harmony,
Even as their lives intertwined in the muck,
They smiled in unison for their gain,
Never did one turn his back on the other,
And never did life tear them apart,
As they looked in unison at the road ahead,
It looked circuitous and perilously charred,
Should they take a leap and forge ahead,
Or just wait for the roads to clear up ahead,
As they looked at one another in tepid uncertainity,
They vowed to follow the sinuous course,
let the paths unravel itself they said to one another,
And stepped blindly into the precipice,
Lit up solely by faith in one another.
Trusting If they fell between the cracks,
They would emerge with the help of the other half,
There wouldn't be one without the other,
And so be it the end or the beginning,
For friends in arms they were always born to be.

Here’s a cleaner, more polished version of your poem, with attention to flow and clarity while preserving the themes of friendship, trust, and shared journey:

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**Friends in Arms**

Caught in the legions of harsh reality,  

Two friends lived in utmost harmony.  

Even as their lives tangled in the muck,  

They smiled together, knowing their shared luck.  

Never did one turn his back on the other,  

And life never tore them apart.  

As they gazed ahead at the road unknown,  

It seemed circuitous, and perilously grown.  

Should they take a leap and forge ahead,  

Or wait for the path to clear instead?  

In tepid uncertainty, they met each other's gaze,  

Vowing to follow the sinuous maze.  

"Let the paths unravel themselves," they said,  

And stepped blindly into the precipice ahead,  

Lit only by the faith they shared in one another,  

Trusting that if they fell, they'd rise with the other.  

There would be no one without the other,  

Whether it be the end or a new beginning.  

For friends in arms, they were always destined to be,  

Bound by loyalty, forever free.  

---

Self discovery

A journey of self discovery,
Through the streets of melancholy,
Sparring through the gullies of symphony,
Makes me reach this space of utter sobriety.
I extend for that unending private space of sublime joy,
Waiting to engulf it in the throes of my fantasy,
I see the castles in the air,
And unparalleled vignettes in the land,
swinging, swaying and basking in the light;
And dancing to the tunes of the unbridled flies,
I can scale up the mountain peaks,
And reach the spatial lengths uniquely,
I am free as a spirited jig up there,
And no-one can hold me back down there,
I am firmly grounded in that magical space,
And feel my soul slaying the winds of change,
I know I can make a difference in my travails,
And change the world for all seasons ,
I know I rule the world above,
And the world below is only beginning to see why!

Here’s a refined version of your poem, with improved flow and clarity, while keeping its imaginative and introspective spirit intact:

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**A Journey of Self-Discovery**

A journey of self-discovery,  

Through the streets of melancholy,  

Sparring through the alleys of symphony,  

I reach a place of quiet sobriety.  

I stretch toward that boundless space of joy,  

Waiting to be consumed by the dreams I employ.  

I see castles in the air,  

And vibrant vignettes beyond compare—  

Swinging, swaying, basking in the light,  

Dancing to the rhythm of unbridled flight.  

I can scale the highest mountain peaks,  

And reach new heights no one else seeks.  

I am free, a spirited dance up there,  

And no one can hold me down anywhere.  

Rooted firmly in that magical place,  

I feel my soul cutting through the winds of change.  

I know I can make a difference through my trials,  

And shape the world across the miles.  

I rule the world above,  

And the world below will soon see why.  

Transient Life

Transient and translucent is this imagery of life,
Looming in the trajectory of time,
Vivid and stark in essence,
Yet frigid and dwindling in appearance,
It always seems against the odds,
This fight for nirvana knows no bounds,
So is this life just an illusion,
Merging into the vortex of parallel visions,
Fishing for adventure and enlightenment some of the times,
And salient and frigid at other times,
Looking into our lives and the worlds we live in,
Truth it seems can be farther from that within,
For as we get closer to the core,
We realize how farther away we are from it,
And in all that dual reality,
is the understanding that life is truly transient,
And that we are just the vehicles of choices,
Waiting to be discovered and burnt down as deemed fit,
And the so the process continues,
Till we reach the end of this cycle of existence.

Land without boundaries

A land without boundaries,
A street without a name,
A road without an end,
A sign post without a pillar,
A home without its peoples,
Is a mystery beyond all reasons,
Has time ebbed into the legions,
Sinking humanity into oblivion,
Or has he escaped extinction,
From the throes of anarchy and destruction,
Can life be found yet again,
And land once lost be reclaimed,
Streets and roads would be swarming again,
With signposts leading to their homes there again,
The face once lost would be found again,
And smiles will be regained,
Futures will be borne again,
And this time destinies will truly be free without any remains.

Here’s a cleaned-up version of your poem, maintaining its thought-provoking themes while improving clarity and flow:

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**A Land Without Boundaries**

A land without boundaries,  

A street without a name,  

A road without an end,  

A signpost with no pillar,  

A home without its people—  

Is a mystery beyond reason.  

Has time slipped into the legions,  

Sinking humanity into oblivion?  

Or has it escaped extinction,  

Surviving the throes of anarchy and destruction?  

Can life be found once more,  

And lands long lost be reclaimed?  

Streets and roads will once again swarm,  

With signposts guiding people home.  

The face once lost will be found,  

And smiles will return.  

Futures will be born again,  

And this time, destinies will be free—  

Without remnants, without chains.  

A man's world

It's often said 'Its a man's world,

And I believed this growing up in a submissive land,

Raised by a patriachial family,

For whom I was no more than a wallflower,

Only to be trampled and crushed at every juncture,

I longed to see the world outside,

And fly a kite like the boy beside,

But I was a girl like no other boy,

And I knew my life would be no other ways,

I was born to breed for the future generations,

Ironically never to breed my own gender,

So why the stigma against me,

Why the injustice driven towards me,

There must be light somewhere the mind yells,

Yet the body does not quell,
And as I face my muted fate in antipathy,

I long to see my antitheses even if it isn't reality,

To feel her fierceness and strength,

For she is an antidote to my failing life,

A rebel in the living stifle.

Someday I know I will break free,

And reach her in my fleeing,

Our paths will cross someday I know,

And I will say to her for sure,

Thanks for your strength and perseverance,

I broke my rut in all deference,

I will then paint the world in my own shades,

And create my own striking portrait 

Here’s a polished version of your poem, refining the language while preserving the deep emotional and reflective themes about gender, freedom, and personal empowerment:

---

**Breaking Free**

It’s often said, "It’s a man’s world,"  

And I believed this, growing up in a submissive land,  

Raised by a patriarchal family,  

For whom I was no more than a wallflower—  

Trampled and crushed at every juncture.  

I longed to see the world outside,  

To fly a kite like the boy beside,  

But I was a girl, unlike any boy,  

And I knew my life would be no other way.  

Born to breed for future generations,  

Ironically, never to breed my own kind.  

So why the stigma against me?  

Why the injustice thrust upon me?  

There must be light, my mind yells,  

Yet my body does not quell.  

Facing my muted fate in silent fury,  

I long to see my antithesis, even if unreal,  

To feel her fierceness, her strength,  

For she is the antidote to my dying spirit,  

A rebel in the suffocating stifle.  

Someday, I know, I will break free,  

And reach her in my flight.  

Our paths will cross, I am certain,  

And I will thank her for her strength and perseverance.  

I broke my rut, in all deference,  

Then I will paint the world in my own shades,  

And create my own striking portrait.