Every bad has some good in it
like silver line round the cloud
a bad isn't bad every bit
has something to make feel proud.

One night on a rainy day
out on my aimless roam
saw a koi that lost its way
caught it and brought it home.

In a bucket it lived two years
no way I would ever regret that
had I on that day chosen to stay clear
it would have been taken by a cat.

Once she bought a bird cheap
back home we soon found out
surely it wasn't a prized keep
was lame in one leg no doubt.

But be sure we chose not at all a wrong
the foot though not cured healed a lot
the budgie would not have lasted long
had its lameness prevented to be bought.

I saw a picture of you and me together,
And I realized that I'll never  hold you like that again.

You'll never be there to hide my pain behind violent bouts of laughter;
Your warm neck will never offer me comfort anymore.

Of course, I was sad,
But then I wondered, why?
Why should I be sad when you're not here?
When you don't exist anymore?
When all the atoms that made up you are in the mud
Just like you wanted?

Of course, you didn't deserve to go,
But then I wondered, why?
Why should you not go to the place where we all will be eventually?  
When that is where you were gonna end up anyway?
When you knew that you had someone to love and be loved by
Just like you wanted?

Of course, everyone tells me it's okay to grieve,
But then I wondered, why?
Why should I be sad about something I knew would happen?
Something that I had been preparing for?
Something that would take all your woes and miseries away
Just
Like
You
Wanted?

a sad poem for my dinner
one gloomy for day meal
my smiles are getting thinner
dying my living will.

give me some fun write
am crying all the while
break me if you might
break me into smile.

a dark poem for my dinner
a crier for breakfast
my joys are getting thinner
sunshine is into rust.

make me one a fun read
a sparkler jolly bright
so joyous tears quickly roll
blur words from eyesight.

Her body, tired.
Her limbs, overworked.
Her baby, forever wailing.

Laying bricks around,
That's who she is.
The little lady,
Who puts houses together
But couldn't build her own life.
That's who she is,
Forced to survive,
Forced to be something
That she was never born to become.

She goes to sleep after washing off the dust,
That she knows will collect in the same places tomorrow
And the day after that,
And the day after that,
And the lifetime after that.

Laying down the concrete,
That's who she is.
The old young lady,
Who mixes cement for a living
But couldn't glue her life back together.

There's a poem on your window
one on the door
another in the wind's blow
welling up more.

There's a poem in your heartbreak
one on your tears
another on a long trek
walking for years.

There's a poem on the girl's eye
one on her skin
another in her silent cry
wearing out thin.

There's a poem in the hope's hue
one in your whim
another on the morning dew
waiting light's gleam.

There's a poem in the mirrored face
one in the season
another in your happiness
without a reason.

I beg you
don't leave the sky

when dark clouds billow in the south
the weary winged hurry home

overhead on the dead blue
jupiter and venus are born anew

the wind slows to silence
trees loom night's shadowy ghost

nocturnal birds sing on their new day
you feel your breath as they fall

the clouds spread across the sky
cracked by the lightning

a drop lands on your stretched palm
soothes all the burns in you

you melt in love
by the torrents falling from above.

don't leave for shelter
I beg you
when heaven arrives here.

When in moonlight her tide swells
the river dances to the temple bells
mounts the ghat kissing in lust
moans aloud in the wind’s gust
it’s then the moon lifts her veil
entwines her makes love at will.

I finally figured out
Mankind's obsession with stars.
They are ten thousand lifetimes away.

We can see them from such a great distance,
Even though they are shrouded by the all-consuming night.

They signify love,
They twinkle only for our eyes.

They are so lonely,
In a void that consumes everything.
But they all come together
Just to give us a sky worth remembering.

They are the only things that we can't touch.
They are
The only things that don't hurt us back.
And that is why
They are the only things we can trust
With our deepest secrets.

I see colors.
But all I think of is black.
The bright blue of the sky
Is always clouded by ugly grey clouds
In my mind.

Each of my eyes
Sees different things.
One of them sees everything
That any normal eye should;
Family, friends, birds, trees.
A vast blanket of normalness.

The other one, however,
Sees how threadbare the blanket really is.
Sees only the shadows that fall behind
Family, friends, birds and trees.

The other eye sees everything
As it really is.
The other eye realises
That the lush lawn of our humanity
Is really just a concrete floor
Painted green.