Count down begins
With loud music on
Dance to the rhythms
Beat on the drums.
Music is on....
Let's hum for a while
Count down begins my dear ones....

Hey! listen to the clock
Beating in rhythms
Tick, tock, tick, tock
Four, three, two,
There goes one
Next and next....
Here comes Zero.
It's the New year born only once called 2015...

Hey listen to the clock
It strikes twelve
Hey, It's another day...

Its my first date of the year 2015
Today, I am on date 1st Jan 2015.

A new fantastic year had begin
A new year born only once called 2015!

Another day begins
A New year begins.
With life of full music on...
With Passion of dreams on...
With twinkles of hope rising on
With loads of dream to carry on
Let my heart beats to its rhythm
Let us welcome New Year with melodious rhymes.
For It's the first day of the New Year rising high...

Pushing down the memories of past 2014
present arrives dancing gaily...
Each seconds, minutes, hours and days are its future.
Listen to the music of future 2015 ringing In your heart
Bring all your dreams into action, for which we are already born.

Wishing you all a happy new year 2015!


It's my first date of the new year.
Wishing you all a happy new year on your first date too!

Happy new year 2015!!!

©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014
Geetha Jayakumar.

I buy how-to books on a lot of things
How to cook
How to clean
How to host a dinner party

I know how to love
and how to make 3 cheese lasagna
and how to remove stains
But I do not know how to hate

I wish I had a book
on how to loathe people who hurt me
Written for dummy's
or by Martha Stewart

You hurt me.
But I cant hate you.
For I don't have a book on how to be mad
at you.

And so I will never learn.
Because I will forever
and I will always
be in the wrong.

Hello poetry !
I am waving you with my hand so high
If i could i would hug you tight
You are like a home to me
Cozy and nice
Safest place to hide my treasure
Those words of disguise
My poems inside you
Is like the ******* feeling one can ever hire
You,trending my poems
That happiness,
Is the feeling i want
More than those stars on sky
Who could possibly thank you enough?
Not those words i call mine
Nor the poems you had inside
I can't trade you for anything
I owe you much more than a poem
But this is what i can give
For those poet friends you gifted me
& a place to stay for my poetry

i've decided that
i could **** myself,
but instead, i'll find the words
that will do it for me.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.