When I was seventeen
I  held onto the destiny,
But now see i’m eighteen
And where I’ve been.
All the mountains,
Seemed Nearby hills
But look I just tumbled down,
From the very top
All bruised and broken.
There’s this wide ocean to dive
But  they don’t know
I drowned.
Oh I was just seventeen!
doing everything  
I didn’t mean.
But see it’s late... for
Yesterday I  turned eighteen
They say, it is summer that
the sun shines  the brightest
but they don’t know
It  burned too.
it all seemed
so small,
just like a hole
in the gigantic boat,
I overlooked for
I had just turned seventeen
And forgot  that
someday  I’ll be eighteen.
It was all just a fancy,
a teenage melody,
sweet to taste
but poison to my body.
The carefree vibrant soul
nourished my
seventeen and nothing
was left for the
soon to be eighteen.
Oh what I have been, just
while jumping to the eighteen.
A jump takes you upwards
but mine was directed
only downwards.
Down Down
down with  him
they all shouted.
Shouts their faces didn’t shout
but ones only my backs could hear.
Ohh seventeen!!
Ooh eighteen!!
Wish I had a different
Ending to my teen.

I am here.
The soul is dead.
I just breathe
And the skin sags
Kisses and hugs
All I had
But a few words
To say
"you aren’t left
And our run through
The green fields
Cannot possibly
Be less than
The best…”
It's all I wished
I could have..For
Even the kisses and hugs
We considered to be the best
Are short of matching
That run which
Would have been the best

i be an ocean
you be the waves
just roll over me
each time
washing me over with the
memories...where
you exist as vast as an ocean
and i remaining just as long
as a wave rolls over the ocean

Finally sat down
To write.
Write epilogue
To all that we were.
All those starring
And longing
Which I wanted
To end
And end just in each other.
My pen broke
Asking me
To stop
To wait
To give us another chance
But I knew ,
I know
That you won’t never know
And thus I complete it now
With an epilogue
With a book
Which I hope unlike others
Will go to my grave
Unpublished unread
Just with an epilogue
EPILOGUE that’s all
We were.

Why do poets write?

Is it their words escaping prison
Of pen to gain freedom?

Maybe its this land
of ink and paper
the only place my pain
sorrows and joys  can reside.

Is it life ?
That forces and compels
To find solace.
In  bleeding of ink on paper?

Or is it a beckoning
to fellow brothers,
of the storms that rise,  
while they battle
their own own storms of life.

I sit with ink and paper
To write?  To tell?
To find ? to seek ?
I just ask why do poets write ?

Maybe I write for the sake of writing
To express all that I am in writing.

My poems and their poet
Their commitment to each other
The way they understand
and accept each other
With no judgement or expectations
On each other’s  part
I believe are the reasons
Why does this poet writes.

There stands a bridge…
Which expands over a river?
Or a lake?
I do not question.
I do not wonder.
I just walk over it
And drown myself,
In that vast emptiness
Where I hoped, myself
To live untouched ,
Naked ,clean and pure…
But the winds were strong
The waves were high…
And this little soul
Could not climb and run through the sky.
I don’t worry, I don’t fret
For I am  untouched,
Naked ,clean and pure…
In that vast emptiness
Where I reached,
Though drowning
Under the bridge
In a river?
Or a lake?

I know her
but forget her.
Your beauty
Your love
are what
world calls lust.

I don't know
I would never know
whom I knew and forgot,
who was the one
whose beauty
whose love
blinded me,
which the world
failed to see.
I know I would never know.

I ask it and shout it
Why am I stupid?
Is it my questioning of the inapt
Or of the myriad
Ways in which
I have been wronged
Am I stupid
Cause I see it.
And do not choose
To ignore it
And just question
You each moment, that
Why I am stupid.

WE'LL BE LED
THROUGH THE CHAOS

THEY WILL MAKE US
DREAM THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM.

THEY WILL TEACH US
HOW TO DISCOVER ME

THEY WILL.
THEY HAVE.

LOVED US
AND TAUGHT US.

WE ALL KNOW IT
AND LOVE IT
books ARE AFTER ALL
WHAT MAKE US.

THICK OR THIN
books
MAKE US
WHAT WE ARE UNDER OUR SKIN

waiting for the fall
hoping maybe you too will fall

I had a dream
I am seven
Running  through the fields
Catching butterflies
Though all I do now is running behind you
And only in dreams
I catch you
After seven years of running

my life isn't what i wanted it to be...but that's O.K.
for i have learnt and understood it.
life won't be what i wanted it to be

You and I
against a rule,
set for us by time.

A marker drawn
to show our end
Etched into its line

The briefest moment
shared with you
the longest
on my mind

--Long Low

We die a slow death
each day,each moment
as we are erased
from the memories
of those, whose
new memories were born,
day after day
as we laughed
through the way.

A person we were for him
that day...will surely
cease to be the same
in his memories
some other day.
AS WE WILL DIE
EACH DAY

all i want is...the WANT from u...

the days have passed the nights are over
but true love they say can't get over.

I sit still and withdrawn
waiting for the dawn.
Eyeing the droplets
as they pour from the taps
under the frons.
Wishing for acceptance
to arrive.
As noon approached
those flashes from past
intensified the yearning
and set the fireball of emotions
alive.
Finally with the twilight
birds returned
for a new beginning  
the understanding dawned.
Love is within.
Love is me.
Not the one who just walked past and left me.

how it would have been,if u could make someone fall in love with u