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I like the spices in your new song
That jumps in an expected direction
To teach our tongue to be so long
I will keep it in my musical collection

We can attempt to see connection
How friendly elephants never forget ?
Don't turn away when we need protection
Our worthy life is to credit never to debt

But, be sure , snowman will melt one day
So be true to your thinking, hat, and gloves
That day may be Sunday but not a fun day
So try to be the star, the whole world loves

Jasmine draws my eyes on the highest tree
So that, nothing can be kept hidden from me
I can watch over you, Earth, Sky, and sea
Now ask God what is left for me, yet to see

~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~


P.S...My granddaughter , Jasmine, She has written, Oh my kind grandpa, I've drawn your eyes on the tall
branches of the trees

He is an unpopular character this old man
Who sits and draw cartoon character
in memories of the dearly departed.

He said that he felt like crying,
but he wasn’t going to cry
Because if he did,
he might not like the taste of his tears
Those loose cells in the tears
is mostly of his mother and father.

He resented  them for not aborting him
He wishes that he was never was born.
Due to the facts that all his life he was scorned

He was in and out of intuition
Always in a state of confusion
Month too months he never saw the sun
He never felt the rain upon his face,
Only long session with the nurses and the
Physiatrist who thought of him as a disgrace

He recalled taking the train for the first time at age fifteen
And that didn’t turn out as expected,
He wets his pant, so he sat in his seat and slaps his head furiously
He was spanked by the nuns, ridiculed by Sister Margaret the head hunter,
Got a huge ****** thermometer roughly up his **** by a ******* dude
Suffered daily due to his severe autism behaviors

He is an unpopular character this old man
Who sits and draw cartoon character
of all his childhood abusers:

My skin is
black and blue,
a tender bruise
that matches
my nightly muse.
Darkness
silently expands
beyond my
understanding;
So I sit
and observe
as my vision
blurs to
completely obscured,
then finds an even
darker universe.

Does it even make a difference, if none wishes you?

A dead body I met, she was someone who everyone did forget,
Whenever she complained, the only thing she did later was regret .
Her eyes had grown tired of being wet, thus decided not to weep,
A day for her was hard to realize, that sun did set, without eye's wept.
Horrified with being happy, that night she couldn't sleep,
Her past was dangerous, was mysterious , exactly like her, every layer deep.
She was helpless, she was hopeless, she was direction-less
She even was lifeless,i saw and turned depress and she in my mind did creep..
There were so many cuts on her body, yet it seemed section- less..
She knew what was right and what was wrong, yet she was action -less .
She had been stuck with some disgrace, was visible on her face,
Her simplicity in a complex world, seemed aimless,
It wasn't painless, but because she didn't want to part of a race,
She wore an anklet, made up of needles and lace,
With the caption "77", as her dead body's grace..
I wanted to console her, but before that she was gone,
**** these winters, I had turned this idiotic hot shower on ..