I find peace in storms,
The waves tell me otherwise,
Violent coils grazing me with the
last bit of sanity that's left,
But maybe I can survive without getting seasick,
While the sun comes out,
A clamorous sound wakes me from the dream,
Of hitting my place,
You can't touch me here,
You can't phase me here,
So I am not afraid of storms,
For, I am learning to sail my ship.

a.s.

I only see the dim of
Black and white,
In my old home,
We never saw anything worth seeing
Just hate,
Destruction,
And lonliness.
Never had i seen one color,
I never knew the
Wonderful site,
Of even our ethnic rainbows,
How different we all are,
And I'm not alone,
Now In my new home,
I'm in a place with purple walls,
And rainbow curtains.
No fear,
Or loathing,
Just my happiness in beautiful
Colors I had never seen in my gloomy past.

a.s.

one fine spring morning
sitting in my chair
newspaper
in hand
basking the sun
in front of my eyes
a scene thus run:

a sparrow perched
on nearby neem tree
sailed to my verandah
and sat on the sill,
in front a looking glass
a while she sat still
a little thoughtful
a little perplexed
finally she was
bitterly vexed.

her own image in the glass
she couldn’t tolerate
to beat it with her bill
at the glass she knocked,
so madly she did drill
as if ‘the other’
she would ****.
in doing this
she broke her beak
all over the beak
the blood did spill,
ignorantly her own
she couldn’t bear
mercilessly her own
with her own beak tear.

frequently she visits,
she now understands,
she comes with her company
but I never saw the repeat,
she and her company
seem to have known
the harmony in Nature
to places they have flown.

WE ‘the roof and crown of things’
spill blood of our brothers
some times on 9/11
in US and fly
again in Jaipur and
Bombay high.

How long will go on this ****** trail?
When will the harmony in man prevail?

C. P. Sharma

My bar is unique
A bar-less bar
Whoever joins it
Becomes a star

The rich or the poor
The Civilized or boor
Feelings don't injure
Equal treat assure

Color or the creed
Country or breed
Such ideas don't feed
Serves without greed

Bathed in divine light
Its visitors don't fight
In their drinks delight
Here Santa's gifts blithe

Bar girl in divinity shines
Serves the 'Soma'* divine
Come here, dance and dine
Ill wills to Krishana** consigne

Perused that which was written in blood, applying saliva to the fingers
Disgorged the writings of hunger unread
Those of tears got erased even before reading.