Others I can't follow
wherever they go
though they claim
the right direction they do know--

I'll stay where I am
let them chase their rainbow
my little boat is old but reliable
on my own I'll gently row.

They said to me
'remember'
I chose to forget
I didn't suffer-

they said to me
'forget'
I chose to remember
I had no reason to regret.

I could
but would not
my choice I made
then on that spot

certain words
I would have said
I turned away
my voice I forbade

kinder I could have been
generosity I did lack
the encounter is lost forever
time I can't turn back

yet I still know not
was I right or wrong--and why?
life is not pure science
straight answers it does deny.

Life is possibilities
let me not pursue the improbabilities

It makes no difference
whether it's hard or easy
I'll choose in preference
that which makes me happy.

Of course, my friend
you didn't get the sun
you hid in the shade
preferring the company of one

Give me the epigram
NOT the Instagram!

People want to be 'something'
all I want is to be 'nothing'.

Like, admire
adore or love
choose as you may
from the said above--

whatever you desire
I'm here to serve
love I can't demand
I'll receive only what I deserve.

Why wait for Christmas
to do the gifting?
it should be every day
every hour to be giving.

It's the greatest mystery
  this ubiquitous circularity

I can't claim
the sun shines only for me
nor the stars and moon
in all their splendour and beauty

But what would I
really be
if I don't have the courage
to ask: 'Would you love me?'

Claptrap
it would be wise
to give its face
a tight slap!

What has to be said
need not too contrived be
speak has your heart bids
that's enough clarity

I close my eyes

so clearly I see

what is in sight

is not reality

It's most worrying

when words begin

to betray or distort

the mind's intended meaning

The moment cracks
in cleavage-- nothing
anymore seems to be the same
only the regretting and aching

the rock once impermeable
is in ravage-- weather-beaten
the last rose falls in late winter
the change of season has spoken

the sea has lost its vibrant voice
by its own waves neglected and forgotten
the night hides away in furtive silence
the heart of love has broken

the past belongs to me no longer
into the nowhere of time I have been driven
beauty asserts at my darkest hour
in vengeance: 'you have not been forgiven!'

It's the cliche
of the dawn
every poet praises-
'a new beginning'

not for me
the tiresome repeating

give me then

the sad languishing
of a mellow sunset
the day put to rest
its chagrin and fret

give me only
the heart in calm accepting

people are loathed
to denying
their love for craving
amidst
busy hours rushing
through their veins
and their entire being
the perennial pursuing
'what's there for me?
am I not-deserving?'

evening shadows
they lengthen
me into such
they are drawing
my very motives
they are questioning

but

I am not answering
as the truth is:
life the enigma
is beyond my knowing

like past years before
the wonder and awe
(to me ) of living
but lies in the Zen-ness
of not thinking
which is the cause
of human agonising

hush!
a tiny star
is appearing

is it listening?

Wordless
I am
the moment
in embracing
is worth
my very dying

Cliches we all are
but most don't know by far

I feel
therefore I am
I think
to doubt I succumb

feel first
the heart is calm
in clarity
is found the desired outcome.

I went in hurried search
of the colour of my heart
and it replied, not in good mirth:
'none--
for what worthy things
have you done?'
no other words
did it bother to impart.

I'll be the least upset
if the reader were to interject:
how bland your poems are
tasteless, colourless, abject!

Ah, where's my imagination fled?
are the flowers in my heart 's garden dead?
how would I fresh seeds cultivate?
would any poem of mine be worthy to celebrate?

What's the colour of your life?
   an immediate answer it's hard to find
   let me speak without hesitation or strife
   I am colour-blind!

Colours,  such wonders
they speak-- listen, do listen well
each offers itself in unabashed nakedness
hear, oh hear what tales they tell-

yet, their voices, so tender
(they seek not to impress)---so demure
how they sink into your depths
your inner eye wakes to explore

your own life, the present and past
for you have chosen one of your own
what you are and the love you feel
is a colour---unknown to others, only to you alone--

a thought, a feeling, a joy or sorrow
is coated in colour and from the spectrum
one arises to console your heart or your hand to hold
what is the colour that dwells in your sanctum?

A thought is a colour, so I deem
in my dream so many colours
it does assume--ah, paucity of neuro-science-
it labours and struggles in shadows!

but my love is well beyond
words, thoughts and borders
ten million rainbows pale in comparison
with its infinite beauty and wonders.

Colours are the emotions of the heart

blue depicts a sense of melancholy

a sigh from a world far apart

in their desolation and misery-



ah, will love come to deliver me?

my loneliness seems an eternity

though abandoned without pity

I am still haunted by her strange beauty

Comedy sternly spoke to me:
' don't you count my words as hilarious
  if I turn to a different direction--be ready-
  I could be deadly serious!'

Come to me, not in my days of prosperity
but knock at my door when I am in poverty.

I have returned to myself
this natural home of mine
which I left in ignorance and folly
and having then  lost my sunshine

now as I look around
my mind-scape one again
is  a lush green field and a rosy garden-
ah,  the coming-home, the end of my pain!

.....the sanctuary
     where the self is set free
     and all that which abides in tranquillity
    is pure joy and beauty

Looking only at the cover
and not the contents--
how could you discover?

People don't want
       to be regarded 'common'
       to themselves they say:
       for bigger things I am born!

..but people are their own
  you will always be alone

Everyone wants to enter
         but the host doesn't bother

Count me in-
         the theme everywhere
         (apply the smartest scheme)
         morals---who does really care?

By all means---it's a public park-
    any flower don't hesitate to pluck.

To oneself:
        my trump card I'll hide
        (not everyone is trustworthy)
        I will never be taken for a ride!

Of others' words I quickly tire
mine are hardly enough--they are full of treasure!

You are right, boss
  I am wrong I admit
  (there will be no salary loss
   this should be every employee's wit!)

My neighbour is no singer
    like a crow he does caw
    I am the village's best tenor
   honour on me abundantly the villagers pour

Better than other people?
myself I could not
I spare myself the trouble
by banishing this thought.

Compassion
but not by compulsion.

Compassion
everything it encompasses

I know the stars are angry
     I am stuck- up, so they say
     but I can't speak to so many
     90% of them live so faraway!

The truth
one should not dissect
it must be held on its own
or count it dead-

to compromise
is its heart to stab
how weak is human nature
such mindless solution it rushes to grab

as the parties parley
and to mutual advantage negotiate
what's on hand tempts the stoutest of hearts
let the deal be sealed and then celebrate-

who does care if truth should perish
right before the negotiators' gate?
profit and gain is the substance of the game
morality is an easy word to set aside and forget.

Writing to achieve fame?
that thought would only bring me shame!

Have I reason
to confess?
how would such
I address?

a twilight zone
the good and bad
( how's that defined?)
I might leave more sad--

would I've to return
the same confession to make?
  I would then be more sinful than sin
  is my life then such a grievous mistake?

     Would it be adequate explation
if I list in my poetry my every ill?
      let that then be my litany of confession
      I'd regard that a not too bitter pill.

Knowing most things
I couldn't be
my teacher advised:
Try poetry.

I was naive and young
thought that was easy
an old man now looking back
a poet I could never be!

Even my own self
I couldn't move
vis-a-vis others
what do I have to prove?

My own morality
if any
is judged only
by others---not by me.