Think of life not in terms
of love or hate
just follow its tides
to the occasion yourself relate.

What's the  greatest vulnerability?
   It's none other than love-- literally

Be brief

    a long speech

    is a verbal screech

The world will never, never be OK
  as long as everyone insists on their say

This is yours
to write
alone
for yourself-
the anthem
of your life
crystallised
from your tears
purified
by your own heart
carved
from the depths
of your soul

unknown
unheard
by the world

not sung
by the nation
to the raising
of the flag
nor to the sound
of trumpets
horns and brass
nor to the march
of medal-wearing soldiers

every note
forged
from the furnace
of your pain and sorrow

life is yours
yours alone
it belongs
to no nation
nor to the world
you are the keeper
the preserver
the nourisher
the nurturer
the alpha
and omega
the only knower

where you stand
is your self-crafted
sacred ground
that tiny spot
you count
as your right
and legacy
unalienable
verily
to the end of time

what though
the wildest storms
come your way
what though
the ground
were to shake
what though
all were in flames
what though
you were inundated
by sweeping waves
from the tumultuous sea
what though
you are drawing
your last breath
what though
all the past
would be reduced
to dust--

there your head
you'll still hold high
and look upon
every adversity
without fear
or a single sigh

and claim
'I'm my own
and myself
I don't let down
as a hero never
would I count
even as tears
are welling
I'll complete
the composing
of my anthem
that would sound
nowhere
but only
in my own ears

then myself
I'd have overcome

my anthem then
is my life'.

She's arrogant, insensitive, callous
garrulous, recalcitrant, cantankerous
but don't ever call her a '*****'--let her be
happy are those who live in humanity and charity.

Life is endless talk

most of such has no worth

You've been insulted-
for the first time?
Be prepared:
many more will come!

The stereotyped
people prefer
what is new
they fear

You went so far

looking for others

that you totally

forgot your own self

Don't scowl or frown-
be prepared to be let down
life is a Darwinian jungle
its keyword is: SURVIVAL!

No one can claim
  himself he owns fully
  he has absorbed
  that of others, at least partially

  we're each to some extent
  a bud graft and a hybrid
  but such would
  any of us admit?

The world
they discovered
but their true self
they forgot

A hero
can also be
a villain -
this is harsh reality

Smart people
    there are too many
    not all achieved their goals-
    they lacked curiosity -

    how they did bask
   in their past each victory
   resting too long on their laurel
   they faded away in complacency

You've spent most of your life
analyzing other people
but haven't enough time
to understand yourself-
that's your greatest moral trouble!

Teaching oneself
is much harder
than teaching others:
there will be excuses
for not being diligent

Even the most consistent
can change
due to the force
of circumstance

We wonder
what others are
but don't know
our own character
and what
we should be-
a moral disaster!

Without lies
most of mankind
wouldn't have survived

Misled
by another?
No, more
by oneself

I love every Monday :

it draws me closer

to my monthly pay-

weekends are costly

my credit card blows away!

Of course
I didn't see
what you saw-
don't ask me

I wasn't there
I've nothing to tell

don't drag me
into the dialogue
or dispute
that would be callous

you should relate
the story
as into the thick you were there
add, subtract, speculate
for all I care,   fabricate!

Anytime
write I may
but should contemplate not
I would be famous someday.

A PAINTING NAMED ‘AN OLD BICYCLE’
                              
                                 She cycled with me and we chatted so merrily
                                I was eighteen and she was sixteen
                                Down the hill and across the meadow so freely
                               The flowers waved to us--life was beautiful and pristine.

                                'I'll love you forever ' she did say
                                The words echoed through the air
                                But too soon after to a foreign land she sailed away
                                I wrote sadly in my diary--' Love is so cruel and unfair'.

                                Time opens up a misty past
                                Like a river life silently glided along
                                How many first-loves did ever last
                                Despite love’s first ecstatic song?

                                This painting touches my heart so deeply
                                But no tears fill my weary eyes
                                Old age is but compassion and sympathy
                                When the heart is sure and youthful passion dies.

   prompted by a painting posted in Linkedin

There were only two persons left in the world
after its mysterious end and they owned everything thereof.

They challenged each other to a duel and would fight to the death as they felt that only one of them should own the world.

But destiny had the final say:
when they drew their swords, a sudden lightning descended and struck them and they both died on the spot,  watched by a few birds perching on a nearby tree---all around was silence

Abundance at some stage tends
   to lead to excess, and joy
   diminishes-- only two hands
   we have.  The child tires with too many a toy--

  paucity and poverty* does enrich
  if our lives are by love liberally endowed
  for such the wealthy might eagerly itch
  only to regret and sigh for being left out.

Whatever I am

is what I cause

I belong to no one's realm

my life sets its laws

I would not beseech for more
surfeit is too heavy for me to handle
abundance stultifies me and makes me tremble-
this little is my core and equilibrium
my raison d'etre in my frailty--
my cup runs full in my poverty
words take leave and elude me
what's there to count or measure
as I have more than plenty?
now I am ready to tell my story:

Love, ah so wondrous
so exquisite
so warm and tender
so glorious
so divine
I have no right to demand
beyond more than that meted
I would rather give
in greater measure
than seek
the pleasure
of ownership
for love should always
be larger
than self
and I can't say ever:
' Oh, that's mine'.

This part of me
tested by time
this heart of mine
by your love sanctified
these tears you came by
to wipe, this pain
you visited
by the dead of night
to heal while I was lost
confused, afraid and alone
you hugged me like a child
and with me you wept
though not a single word
we said.

Now
age has taken over
the past has its story related
joys and sorrows of ours we shared
are documented
deep within us
known to none else
secrets that are sacred
that make us what we are
we have reason
our love to re-celebrate

we have become
parts assembled
into the finished work
that faith, patience and endurance
first built amidst the ruins of time
against all the odds
of mindless fate
marooned, forgotten, lost
but we never gave up hope
our parts we brought together
we struggled, we merged
adversities we so courageously fought
and strength from some unknown
in mystery overtook us
the light forsook us not
from the blinding darkness
we woke into the bright new day
what had gone before we forgot
a miracle has been brought
we no longer in isolation live
all my parts belong to you
and yours are mine--
this becomes our unalienable lot.

A PASTORAL ROMANCE

Come, my love, come, join me
in the strawberry field, don't tarry
the fruits are ripe for plucking--ready
just waiting for you and me

the sun is shining
the birds are singing
the roses are dancing
and my heart is pleading

I'm no pearl
only a pebble
hidden under
the sand of time
unknown
to be discovered
by none-
yet I don't complain
or moan-
what I am
happily I accept
being just alone
a tiny stone-

the rose
has my pity
it blows
and loses
its beauty
when the sun
loses its glow
and admirers
are gone

a pebble I am
free to the bone
my life
as in
a perfect cone
abiding
consistent
unchanging
with nothing
to atone.

Kin-dom
irksome

If you know
a perfect job- kindly
recommend to me

What is false?

what is true?

what law, what clause?

is someone misleading me and you?

Do not in any way test me
I had been forged--painfully
in the burning crucible of time
and suffered so deeply

alone, to no-one known
and my wound is still in slow-healing
like Prometheus I held on
defiant, indignant and unyielding

for life is lived singly
with every pain being borne silently
those who have themselves overcome
are among the the strongest and the most free

hence, do not try ever to test me
your own cross you might have to bear heavily
some day- we're common travellers in life's journey
how we rise above calamity will mark our very humanity

There's no appointed time
nothing is predesigned
the will to act rests with the self sublime
the resolution of the prepared mind-

in the oasis of infinite imagination
constant beauty, love  and joy I find
in the immediacy of inspiration
all that's life ugly dross I leave behind.

I prefer
enchantment to
beauty-
it has a deeper view

I choose resilience
over strength:
it holds me up better
and I'm made always consistent

They said to me
  reach out--that's the game
  I replied: I'll look within
  I need no one to know my name-

  what I am and what my future
  will be, that only myself I could frame
  the world shall not judge me
  if I fall,  only myself would I blame

I would rather fail alone
than with others to succeed
if they are out me to own
in their nefarious deed.

Make life
the possible
the defensible
accept not the inevitable.

Appetite
but for what?
to what allied?
why such?

Where beauty has no heart
in what it offers I'll not take part

Perhaps too much
I've experienced and seen
of human nature
in each setting or scene

and no longer wish
to know any further-
there's little to recommend
that would make things better

for man now as before
is a savage and voracious creature
too ready to pounce on the weak
only his own interests does he treasure-

things would not change
even in several centuries to follow
wars, conflicts and hatred would still persist
life worldwide would remain bleak and hollow

That which
is easily understood
often besmirches
the very nature of truth

Too keen to convince
    is too often symptomatic
    of obsessive self-doubt
    the person could be really sick!

First principle- follow
  so says the philosopher
  what if it were false
  wouldn't I then be the sucker?

If you've chosen
independently
not to believe
or to see
that which is
doesn't exist

though that is
the raw reality

obvious isn't this?

I, then, am but a piece
of others, not my own
I'm a million voices
a creature programmed
from childhood to all later years
I'm to wit not myself--genuine
a misplaced expression
of a collective unknown
for to others I belong-
who, who then
is that individual
who dares to declare?
'I AM my pure-self!'

From the past
  I came
  no one knew
  my name

  since in some corner
  of space and time, all alone
  my silent life-story
  I ceaselessly write-- just for my own

of me a wandering poet
a voice heard by no one
yet I have no doubt
there's a place for me under the sun

for to myself I sacredly belong
as long as life does still run
no regret or remorse will I suffer
when all my life-work has been done