Living alone
Is a personal torture
Whenever you feel need of someone
You cry without words on lips

In the glaring light,
The child holds out his blank palm
For the coins, his bread.

A butterfly on
A petal; a dew on a leaf;
A word on a paper!

I looked for honesty at many places!
When I found thousands of rupees near the bus stop
It was standing beside me!

The huge basketballs
In the wooden baskets!

Not for the score,
Pulp flows through the tongue!

Who
       said
           I am dead?
Evil
     Has
          Made me lame.

If you motivate someone,
You don't have anything to lose;
It rather increases your treasury of goodness!

When
You get fearful of failure

You lose freedom of getting success!

Do you want
To be mentally strong?

Stop thinking ill of others!

Only the fool can understand the nonsense of a talkative man!

Gaining knowledge is desire of the wise,
But sharing it is the priority of the humanitarian!

My book has feelings
She speaks to me in silence
She describes those also
Who give her a beautiful life

My book is my true friend
She diffuses my darkness
To new experiments she takes me
And guides me about my religion

No dews on the grass
No sky purple
No delightful notes in the air
Only zooming down

My father picked up the journal
Massacre, explosion, ****, theft,
He whispered instead of good morning

Inside the room
Mr. Mrs. Miss.,
Gave us bed tea
Who opened TV? Mother?

It doesn't matter
They are bound
Job well done

Days have undergone upheaval
Morning is dirge
Oh! Modern century
Torn apart wings

If you are brave enough to take risk
Be honest when you need immense money
And you can use a big amount freely

Poetry
Is
Wine;
It
Should
Be
Drunk
By
All
As
It
Is
Permitted
In
A­ll
Religions!

There
Is
No
Problem
Of
Being
Rich
Or
Poor; the biggest problem lies in the difference between our thinkings!

There is a place in my heart
Where you sit; others depart.
A garden it is for you to blow;
I will linger to smell your sweet flow.
From morn to eve I will care for you
And pray for your eternal hue.

O Frost
Fold thy white shawl

Crops are still babies
Don't strangulate them

The silver pearls gleam
Where the queen sets on her sail
Down the glowworms spill light flying
How sweet to meet thee in such a blissful night
O Stars! O Queen! Stay awake for  long
And let us get much delight  from thy wisdom

Trust
Is a strongest pole!
If broke
Many things fall

yes.
God made me honest,
and I maintain it.
it is my soul.

they give me grimaces
and lots of smiles.
I do *** for tat.

once a boy cried,
thinkng he has grown drab.
I couldn't assuage him.
I am full of pangs.

I stand; I breathe in the air.
I never sleep.
I am for truth.
your negligence is my death.

In the flash of June
I met saw a butcher
Whetting his knife
Against the thick twig;
And down in pieces
The corpses bled profusely!

Salute to the Teacher,
                                     an unsung soldier!

They stand still, our bodies,
dumb-struck, dust-skin in dust,
wear the mask of our death
the present moment or the next,
eyes lost in never ending dream
without light to see a single glimpse.
their shooting-birds fingers
don't swap the insects, pricking them;
the clumping feet are chained in immortality.
lips lie in wait for words
that were their own, good or bad,
and ears hear the groaning of the Soul,
bearing the brunt of their deeds.
and groan

Words
           Are
Both
          Flowers
And
          Thorns
                              The gentleman
Doesn't
          Hurt
His
         Fingers
With
        The
Latter

Perseverance is bravery,
And bieng brave is the attitude of a noble man.

I lost yesterday,
Oh the piece of diamond,
Turned to dust,
to the presence of today.

Yes.
I have another one.
This is tomorrow.
It will be in my pocket
If I defeat today
By a huge margin

What about her blue eyes?
                           What a sharp knife!
            Oh!  They have wounded my heart!
                                     My God!
                  Send her to heal the bruises.

in the vestibule
He would feed the sparrows
While all used to count the coins.
Today he sleeps in the same vestibule
And they count the same numbers;
The sparrows wait for their food
But none comes except the rustling!

If we had no morning,
Would we say-Good always night?
If we had no night,
Would we say-Good always morning?
So much funny it seems!
A little bit crispy!
The elephant without its trunk,
Still trumpeting!
The jiraffe without its long neck,
Still kissing our windows!
The lion in the bleating mode!
No ink,
The pen between the fingers!
No tenses,
Words in a thread!
Life is a purpose,
Not a dream!
Life is wisdom,
Not foolishness!
Life is how He made,
Not what we want to make it!
The scheme of things are divine,
And they are blissful,
They are for mankind!

With no point
Arrow will distract itself

Travel the unknown with intrepidity.
It's the promising pomegranate.

A tad bit hard when you open it,
But contains a host of gifts.

How wonderfully
one is connected to other.
Each one is amazing
and nourishing in its own way.

I have purchased over the years.
It's your turn to explore your luck.

In every green garden
Hisses the venomous jealousy;
Anytime, it can sting.

I fried a fish
And served him with wine!
He asked me about the poem no more,
But kept whispering;
What a scrumptious poem!

The lion
The king, the lord
The original dictator
In his eyes carries his prowess
In the forest, his kingdom
Tames the innocents
Their blood drink
Their death cheers
And on them feed, his feast
But unknown of the rebellion
Of the common, the poor
Now for the shelter flees
With his fangs and claws broken

I wrote something on water
                It swiftly flew away
         I held a piece of flying cloud
                It speedily melted  away
         I saw the gleaming beams
                It quickly passed away
         I looked at rainbow in the sky
                It hastily faded away
         I wrote thy name in my heart
                It stayed and will stay
         This is my love; it will never go
                This the breeze; it will blow
         This is the moon; it will glow
                This is the tree; it will grow

If your parents
Throw anything  at you

Take it like a child

Poetry is a wonderful land
Where classic, romantic and modern trees stand
Evergreen are the soothing trees
The delightful rhythm fly in the breeze
The vallies are so beautiful so deep
The people are mesmerised after they creep

The white dressed mist
Wanders around;
Kisses the cheeks
Of the sky,
And lips of blossoms,
Caressing the green girls;
Runs through the hair
Of the sea;
Leaps over the heads
Of the hills,
And dives into
The splashing valleys!

Self-pity
Is never the friend,
Fold it with leaves green
And throw in spring.

Consider yourself a leader
Victory Will count you as a leader

We know we have to die
And we must do for a noble cause
A heavenly death
The death of the uncommon
Forgetting our lots
Remembering their woes
Who lost  their buddies for the nation

Patriotism is a virtue
Its reward awaits in heaven
It's for the rich
It's for the poor
It's for those
Who cry to hear cries
Echoing around their houses

They are gone
And left their dreams incomplete
And put their wives' wounds on our shoulders

We know we have to die
And we must do for this
A heavenly death
The death of the uncommon

Let your dream
A sanguine warbler
That sings in rough weather!

Let your dream
A bonfire within you
And it will keep you climbing
The snow-covered mountain!

Leave your footprints there
And dive into valley of ecstasy!

Snow is kid
snow is nightingale
they dance
they leap
when life is peace
dance with them
they play piggyback
on the branches
laugh with them
they kiss our cheeks
and sing for them
for delight they bring