If all them ****** girls of the streets
with rotund hips and tantalizing ****,
For all their *** and sins go to hell…
Ha, I sure must steal, cheat and lie well!

If all them priests and chaste nuns,
For all their piety and divine devotions,
Inherit God’s grace and the heaven…
I must indulge in all them cardinal sins seven!

Methinks, not to do none of them good things
Lest they fly me to heaven on angel's wings,
Life there surely must be dull, drab and sullen
with all them saints, martyrs and many a nun.

Oh, I do hear you all say about the afterlife
How to go to heaven and earn the eternal life,
But I rather stay put and enjoy the life I crave…
Unless you wanna go first and return to rave!

****** a dagger into my heart
Lay me on a bed of thorns
Give me a chalice of hemlock
Thrash me with a flail
Haul me over the smoldering coals
Hang me over a precipice by
the skin of my teeth,
Impale me, crucify me…
And I will only smile,
Why?
Because I am in Love!

Whenever a voluptuous moon,
radiantly brimful, looms low
and gilds the tops of the trees,
The hills, the sprightly streams,
the languorously reclining lakes,
She appears to me from nowhere
Like a dream,
Like a flash of inspiration
to a muddled mind.

My Muse glides gracefully toward me
like an elusive wreath of smoke
and gathers me in her embrace
like a silken robe,
hovering around me
like the perfume of roses.

She appears as a stirring
source of fantasy and vision,
Like the magnificent Northern lights
displaying luminous draperies
on a star-spangled polar nights,
Like the spectacular rainbow burst
after an intense shower,
Like a shooting star,
Like a blessed apparition;

I take her
as one would a reluctant bride
with gentle persuasion
and resilient arms!

A Poem must stir our emotions
Like the storms churning in the oceans,
Like the fiery lava flowing downhill,
And not just be any run-of-the-mill.

It must tug at the reader’s heart
And grip him good from the start,
Let him not idle, purr or whimper
But gulp it down hook, line and sinker!

However you may rough-hew the lines
Or trip over the dreaded syllables land mines;
Matter not if it’s an epigram or a sonnet –
Did it make someone smile, cry or fret?

Life's best and happiest of times
are written in verses and rhymes,
Poetry unravels the mysteries of the mind
and helps the weary soul to unwind.

No matter how or what you write
A myth, a melodrama or a mystery,
About your life or a dreadful night
In a poem, a song or a short story.

Write in a manner to evoke pathos
And in matter to mirror a tragedy,
Establish a sincere sense of ethos
Whether you write a satire or a comedy.

Either try to provoke a hearty laughter
Or to elicit a feeling of warm sorrow,
Steer them stealthily to a myth buster
Or promise them of a better tomorrow.

Write an epic, an elegy or a pastoral
With a sublime, visionary imagination,
A ballad, an ode or even a doggerel
Of a dramatic event or a silly situation.

Perceive the pulse and tone of the people,
The image, the rhythm and the sound,
The habit, custom, creed and the foible,
Develop the theme with metaphors abound.

The essence of life belongs to poetry,
It is an ever enriching avocation
Where purity of love overcomes bigotry
Where reality juxtaposes with imagination.

Do you harbor a secret true
like everyone else and me too?
All of us have something to hide
Affairs we would rather set aside.

An illicit fling or an ****** scene
Oh, of nature grave and keen,
A wild fantasy or wistful whims
Or, maybe, one of the 7 deadly sins?

Like the wilted rose in a book
Or the rickety skeleton in a nook,
We hide our frailties in the far recess
of our mind for no one to access.

We all succumb to carnal sentiments
Unmindful of the 10 commandments;
If anyone can prove me otherwise
that truth I speak not but plain lies;

Forever to hold my peace I swear,
Not to write, speak or ever share
my thoughts or opinion in this case
until the last day of the sunshine I face!

Man is both evil and divine,
There’s a dark side to him and a light,
In his darkest hours he tends to shine
But overwhelms weak with his might.

The maker of the gods and the devil
And of blissful heaven and fiery hell,
The savvy creator of good and evil
He’ll con you into your soul to sell.

Be leery of the politician and the priest,
Oh, abhor them both vehemently,
They’ll make your life hard to persist
And curb your free will adamantly.

So be wary of him who walks upright
He’s but hunched over with sins he carry,
Distance yourself from him on sight
Better charm the snakes; Man – you parry!