It's dark everywhere.
The cat purrs
And fights with her friends
In the yard.
The croaks create commotion.
Night is bad tempered.
Me, on the bed,
Wallows like an old
With pain in his leg.
Cold covers me.
The blanket is thickest.
It's not snowing here.
The sweats swallow on the skin.
My granny would say,
Cold is a serious decease.
I've faced the music.
The whole night
Has been the full duty
In a factory full of fire.
Cold is an enemy.
Barracks of care be built.

Tolerance is not weakness.
It's patience to wait for the better!

Selling poetry
is stopping the flow of waterfall,
Though you fail, you enjoy its music

Be intimate, but not discuss family affairs, and it's tough, later on, to save family honour even from those who won your hearts.

When your respect is at risk,
You must take risk by not attending
Those who enjoy intimacy with you, but not each time, only to get to the bottom!

Penning a poem on love
Is forgetting failure,
And fear of not forgetting
That feared the poet,
If he'd been the victim of veering
Of his long love.

Words don't work themselves,
They're pushed in the ring.

It needs courage to combat
The loss that lasts for many years,
And their shadows shun
Chances of a cool vibe.

Love poems are heroic.

I long to live in their minds
For such greatness.

It's delight.
It's comfort.
It's tranquility.
Hold a fly in your palm.
Feed it of its choice with glee.

'Without' slits joys. Mine.
The kite is a paper
on the field
Without the thread.
With effects
it hops and falls.
The steering is
For the vehicle.
You understand it well.
Without you, me a phrase.
Complement me.
When do stars shimmer
Without darkness?
Where do fruit
Come to life
Without trees?
'Without' suffocate thee, too.
Be the wings I long to fly.

A sense  of humour out of everything
Is an art to create tickling out of the dead

Speak
sweetly.
Even
the
affluent
person
Will
respect
you.
Be the magician.

If there is no expectations,
Where are efforts?