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Mar 2015 · 1.0k
Voice
Voice feels spent this day
when death is a quarter away
and life has passed real quick
without a voice worth to speak!

Have I it properly harnessed
raised where most needed
or have it always compromise repressed
its urge for truth kept unheeded!

Did I war to blow it genuine
hushed it when demanded silence
or wore it with a fake coating
to buy peace with vain pretense!

Voice is ever enslaved to me
used as I chose to be
never able to utter its core
and life may only be a quarter more!
Mar 2015 · 1.2k
Money
the worst obstacle in life
and sadly
the most needed!
******.
Mar 2015 · 893
Your eyes and my eyes
I never knew how the roses you grew
the myna flapped again broken wings
soils thirsted for touch of you
longed for your gift of saplings!

I never knew the depth of your eyes
reaching to the densest of bush
I only snapped the mating butterflies
the day end’s scurrying mongoose!

I never knew what hidden key
was in you to unlock the door
to be in a world yours only
with a sky for limitless soar!

I would never know why said you
when at dusk I pointed afar
*your eyes and my eyes together make two
please never show me a lone star!
Mar 2015 · 713
Hot Pursuit
Inspector Jim was clueless about the case
The sniffer dog followed quite a long trail
Leading to everything but the criminal’s trace
Ending finally in an abandoned well!

He had second thought about the animal’s skill
Panting from the run to keep with its pace
At end of hunt not deriving a little
Left to ***** in the muddled mess!

The track was a meadow the season was spring
So much were laid for the eyes to feast
Birds and trees and all the best things
But Jim was enveloped in the riddle’s mist!

He was still stranded on the same ground
Fearing once again he might fail
This is where the body was found
The darned beast had led him back to the well!
Mar 2015 · 985
Why we move on
There is as if
from deep within the sorrow
is heard an echo

*it's not the end of way.
Mar 2015 · 760
Old Brew
Loyalty is fleeting
Fragile to the touch
I’m scared of being
Trusted too much!

For I too am tempted
To seek new pasture
I’m not exempted
From greeding luster!

Old brew is fine
But thirsts this lip
To taste new wine
A forbidden sip!

So I ventured
As secretly willed
Tried adventure
On greener field!

But lo I returned
A hole in my heart
All fingers burned
Soul ripped apart!

Can’t hide from her
She knows it true
Healing my scar
Needs her old brew!
Mar 2015 · 1.1k
A Poet's CV
So the only thing you lay claim to
is you are a poet.

He was referring to my CV
where it was mentioned boldly
the art I dabble in.

But that’s no skill
shrugged the questioner
doesn’t hone your ability
in finance management
or marketing strategy

can’t fetch one good deal
for the company
your poetry

but to be frank with you
I too wrote a few
only to dump before it got me
your poetry

otherwise I fear
I would not have been here.

Outside were faces in nervous wait.

I wondered if among them
was another poet!
Mar 2015 · 1.2k
Uncrumbled Crumbs
This silent question I asked
for answer endless explored
where’s love grains husked
beyond eyes quietly kept stored!

Is it on the bed we sleep
whose sheet bears marks of lust
or something that’s more deep
hidden neath her layer of crust!

What’s the place love she stores
ceaseless flowing from the start
veiled in her all daily chores
I erred to be the place called heart!

In the house it’s a small nook
here her love makes me dumb
standing mesmerized as she cooks
I wait from her hand love’s crumbs!
Mar 2015 · 2.3k
To the unborn
the one I got never to see
the one wiped out silently
yet the most precious

what could you have been child
killed as the fetus!

the one that was never born
whose smiles walls didn’t adorn
yet the most precious

what could you have been child
killed as the fetus!

the one never known to me
the one that was never to be
yet the most precious

what could you have been child
killed as the fetus!

the one my own broken piece
the one I would ever miss
and the most precious

what could you have been child
killed as the fetus!
Mar 2015 · 637
A funny love poem
she plays cat's side
i of the mouse
there ain't a place to hide
in my small house!

knows she the places
she can hunt me
knows all the traces
of where to find me!

she knows where to look
easily can guess
my favorite nook
below staircase!

it isn't hard to seek
knows where to raid
dimly lit attic
below bedstead!

merrily play in bliss
in the small house
end the game with kiss
the cat and the mouse!
Mar 2015 · 1.2k
Familiarity breeds contempt
I have never seen her the way
saw her the first day.*

she was the prettiest from far
when the beauty of her
was in dream discovered!

she was the sweetest of song
when she first came along
my heart went ding ****!

she wasn't just a pretty face
but a fountain of grace
my happiest address!

but the days soon wore
in insane explore
she was new no more!

seen it from morn
her splendor was shorn
she turned a monotone!

i found many a flaw
her plume was of daw
by proximity's law!
Mar 2015 · 2.3k
The Wooden Flute
Play a thief play a cop
Take an arm ride
Skip a rope spin a top
Find a place to hide.

Sail anew river wild
Alone with the moon
Break the mirror be the child
Never grow soon.

Find again little things
Dust the wooden flute
Age cannot clip the wings
Grow in mind a root.

Years roll time wanes
Life is joy and grief
Why give up innocence
The inner child’s belief!
Mar 2015 · 1.3k
Mark of Beauty
she was standing close
her waist an hourglass
in flirty girly pose
skinned in hue of brass!

nay it's all my hype
her girth was plumply round
skin was of dark type
teem such girls abound!

she was on my sight
sweet was her fragrance
her eyes were happily bright
mind loved her at first glance!

it's my fancy wished her be
her eyes were cloudy dark
she was smelly and *****
with none of beauty's mark!

yet long held her my gaze
this heart craved her close
eyes feasted it for days
her small black mole on nose!
Mar 2015 · 5.6k
Krishna
When the dust swirls in the March wind
the forlorn noon is thick with flames of the forest
and the meadow sighs in gold yellow sun

my eyes seek Krishna in that aching void.

She grazed the cows from morn till twilight
and though eldest among the siblings
she was schooled only in the blazing days
learning to pull her herd to greener pasture
venturing into marshes none would dare tread.

Not one groom could be found for her
bypassed she was for her fairer sisters
that went to school grew up were married
and ushered new inmates to the world.

Then a few summers past
when I had almost forgotten her
I saw her forehead smeared with vermilion.

But why she had to come back
playing once again the shepherd girl
gathering them for home at dusk
crooning aaaaaa….oooooo…..

I don’t know if Krishna went back to her husband
for after a few days she wasn’t seen again.

Only the winds howled in the forlorn noon
and the little shepherd girls who came after her
whispered she had at the in-laws
hung herself from a tree.
Today was the morning like other days
but I cannot focus my mind just strays
the empty bowl stings with dull pain
like her would be none ever again!

I light the gas and look around
for her purr’s faintest sound
seek in air a long known smell
silky caress of a raised up tail!

Two deep blue eyes don’t beg of me
to love for love given freely
morn’s kitchen is only grey
where she haunts from yesterday!

These winter days she craved me close
if I refused lap sighed morose
softly spoke her petal face
I wouldn’t ever love you less!

She hid her away when strength failed her
beyond all eyes to quietly suffer
not let me know on what sunrise
dreaming of me she closed her eyes!
I'm heartbroken at her loss.
Feb 2015 · 987
The Untamed
He was ready when they came to take him
stepped out to the day as in a dream
and with a face unmourningly serene
entered the waiting palanquin!

How quickly passed his seventy years
he felt having spent not a year even
now on a ride on the bearers’ shoulders
his lips moved in prayer to heaven!

His heart was not weighed with grief
but a resignation deep and tranquil
there comes a day one has to leave
preordained by kind God’s will!

That way he had wanted it to be
when death came to knock on the door
would hear him say I am ready
won’t keep you waiting a moment more.


Through the hush when rang last bell
and to the wind his breath was free
echoed through the mourners’ wail
the untamed refrain *I am ready.
Maharaja Nandakumar was hanged on false charges by Warren Hastings. It was a ****** and not execution of justice. Hastings was later impeached by the British Parliament for this crime.
This poem is an adaptation from the eye witness account of Nandakumar’s last moments before his execution on August 5, 1775, recorded by Alexander Macrabie, the then Sheriff of Calcutta.
Nandakumar remained composed through the ordeal up to the gallows.
Feb 2015 · 653
When nothing else is left
hate the minds not like you
hate the ones not of your faith
hate them that question you
hate that the world is diverse
and not converging to your views
hate when there's nothing left to hate

**yourself.
Feb 2015 · 784
Death of Ignorance
What ails us from knowledge
the flaw of being wised
is having less and less
things to be surprised!

Why bamboo groves creak
occurs ghost light
puppets can speak
stars fall at night!

How sun paints a rainbow
moths can make silk
summer sky is aglow
with whitely flowing milk!

Seems such a loss
death of ignorance
by effect and cause
hardly making sense!
Feb 2015 · 719
Dusk Time Story
sun when slips down west
sky is pink-a-blush
day makes merry-home haste
dies in sullen hush

my eyes dreamily follow
not the meridian star
but in the dusky glow
the flock's flying far!

how they rush together
in twos of clinging pair
ahoy a home is there
waiting in all weather!

the ones roaming on south
run home way down north
leaving their hopes to sprout
on the sunrise coming forth!

the northerners fly to south
end of day's toiled roam
hoping surely no doubt
finding there a cozy home!

Tell me their chirping words
as they fly over head faraway
it's time to pick up the shards
piece them to build another day!
Feb 2015 · 903
Fortune Smiles
Today I was hoping a breakthrough
seeking good luck my way
lift me from bad times sticking like glue
growing like weeds by the day!

My coffer long starved badly needs to fill
but dwindling faster instead
no more can cope with long line of bill
falling time barred unpaid!

Fortune you know has her weird style
in choosing the man to shower on
while I dream for her just one smile
she prefers to leave me alone!

The ways she chose to send me her love
could in no way lift me from bog
she threw on my way a bleeding dove
dying from the fangs of a dog!

She cast on my way a famished old hag
who for bringing good luck was no good
just short of **** in her surviving rag
couldn’t count the days without food!

Without a windfall on the mire stuck
my hopes lay ruined by sunset
the night found me still a sitting duck
with another day lying in wait!
Feb 2015 · 970
Stonewall
wind scatters the fallen leaves

mother roams helpless
child in her arms

fleas merrily peel the stray
and her two pups

girl offers her flower
for a dime

as the clock strikes three
the devout race for a glimpse

the deity’s stone carved face
beams with divine grace.
Feb 2015 · 1.2k
Jesters
They're all jesters on your path.

Unbeknownst to you
Light up only the wrong way.

Success is a slow poison
Wealth a carnage
Fame a fatality
And pride the hell’s peak
From where is only one way

Down.

Now there was no applause
As the King saying thus

Put down his crown.
Feb 2015 · 806
In relationship
I take the blame
if that saves it.
Feb 2015 · 1.2k
Simplifying
bitterly i remember
in my first simplification class
i forgot BODMAS.

boys around me
solved gleefully
while my pencil
showed no will
to budge with the clock
bent on making me a laughing stock
before my peers.

it's such times in life
when devils raid
to come to your aid.

i gave a furtive look
to the notebook
of the boy next to me
put an equal to sign
and to the sum's next line
wrote nine.

what followed i would keep to mine.
Feb 2015 · 1.1k
Whispering Wind
Back from the sun baked field
she served him hot meal.

From the quick dip at the pond
droplets lingered on his bronzed frame.

She loved them
the way she loved his eating in peace
standing quietly like a shadow
and then when he rose to go
her lips’ quivered glow
would be one more time killed.

As he trudged to the paddy field
her fragrance haunted him
and wind scattered his sighs
to the land
where the crops would soon be gold!
Feb 2015 · 1.0k
Taste of Earth
The mist swirls around us
thickening deep.

wrapped shadows lost in thought
drink one after another earthenpot
dream on imagined wings
puff unseen smokerings
pierce the fox-dark night
in tobacco spark light
voice in stupored half sleep
debt and hardship
despite clayburnt toil
on the redrock soil
the treacherous seed
growing never to need.


The night looms wearily old
when the last man walks away.

My tea tastes bitter bottom cold.
Feb 2015 · 624
From the Bridge
look remote out of reach
on the river when afloat
and you view from the bridge
folks down on the boat!

the sun is just past prime
ripples shine silver bright
on a noon yellowed lime
tinting eyes in dream light!

bares her chest muddy shore
to the water on the glide
**** she would stay no more
when the moon pulls the tide!

can't hold long mote of space
soon the river meanders right
leaving echoing emptiness
when the boat passes out of sight!
my cover photo
Feb 2015 · 544
When a girl
a friend of my friend said
the ******* the second floor flat
two blocks from your house
is in love with you.

is it the girl i ask
that spreads smiles on my way
everyday

or the one
throwing admiring glance
whenever i happen to pass

or the bubbly pretty who gazes
so long the road
shows me to her

nay you fail
says my friend's friend

she prefers to be shyly far
from her lover
Feb 2015 · 894
The woman at the gate
as i turned at the bend
the house showed up

at the gate she stood
smiling at me
her hair fell down on her back
black slightly curled
perfumed oil fragrant
which when she raised her hand to comb
revealed her navel
that like every other day
lusted me to grab her
press her onto me
coalesce
till i would not know
the part that was she
the part that was me.

the house stands freshly painted
there's a woman at the gate
but she is not her.

i sniff the wind for her fragrance.

twenty years is a long time
but why my lust still seeks her

why these hands burn
to grab her just once

do the time we leave behind
and the space
immortal?
Feb 2015 · 722
Word is just label
The line
you are my valentine
has lost shine

but well
word is just label

i mean
deep within
like undying old wine
each of us has a valentine

dunno why.....
it refuses to die!
Feb 2015 · 1.6k
Lotus Feet
From the countless footsteps
I could feel hers
when summer sun was slanting
the day was losing glares.

Oh her lotus feet
how they cooled the burning dust
soothed my spirit
now I tell the story must!

She would wait beneath a tree
to catch a passing song
that breathed her lullaby
stayed with her for long.

When wind hushed the passing note
the darkness chilled her bone
upon her eyes starlight wrote
you are so alone.

She turned the way she came
trod me her lotus feet
hadn’t seen her known her name
but felt her in heartbeat.

One evening she waited long
till the last crow found its nest
she was dying to hear his song
but silence rent her breast.

As she walked my laden stone
weighed in load of pain
I could feel her anguished moan
that fell on me like rain.

She hasn’t come back to this day
hadn’t seen her known her name
only know it’s truth they say
once lit never dies love’s flame!
Feb 2015 · 1.7k
Ageless
in that lane least trod
by light glaring broad
up the window evergreen
never outgrowing her teen
shaking waves of her curl
waves merrily the girl

a little bit surprised
i look deep in her eyes
and oh what a joy
find there a wonder boy!
Feb 2015 · 2.2k
Magpies do steal
the magpie stole my pen

then flapped its wings
to hide it fast
so i couldn't see it again.

i ran up the staircase

so i could see
how far could flee
in blue's cool embrace.

the day had a golden hue

up the roof
wind blew aloof
the sky said i need you.

birds were dazzled white

made pleasured cry
soared to high
stole my all eyelight.

cheerily swayed the tree

cute green leaf
in disbelief
saw me carefree.

the magpie called me then

now i bet
you don't regret
my stealing away your pain.
Feb 2015 · 1.9k
An Angel
They flowed easy the tears of her
In her core was a kindness’ river
With a heart of gold a love too pure
Her bags were full with pains to endure!

Married at teen and a widow too soon
Her youth dark dimmed an eclipsed moon
Dragged to abyss and feasted upon
Bereft a blood she could call her own!

A wonder her life though ravaged much
Growing not hard she broke to the touch
Would come to grief at others’ pain
Her cheeks overflowing in sobbing rain!

As a child I felt at a time now far
On one short span spent with her
When my innocence could easily tell
Neath her frame was an earthly angel!

Wasn’t a beggar returned from door
A stray unfed to die on the road
She was there with a saving aid
Her own life though was left unpaid!

As I write this rebel locked tears
Break floodgates of long lost years
Reveals from the mist a haloed face
Of an angel of love and godly grace!
Feb 2015 · 1.6k
Poetry is a spirit
reflects smiles
mirrors pains
its beauty beguiles
entertains

wakes up heart
opens door
transcends art
furthermore

swells in vein
its maddening flow
drops as rain
on parchment glow

once seeded within
grows deep root
makes you come clean
speak only truth

soul's inked beat
pearls dug from deep
in true spirit
have it worshipped.
Poetry is a spirit; they that would worship it must worship in spirit and in truth.
(E.M. Forster: The Celestial Omnibus)
Feb 2015 · 902
Extraterrestrials
We may not be alone
in our belief
we're alone.
Feb 2015 · 1.4k
Some more before
some more wooden plank
it would be whole
bridge the two riverbank
reach its goal!

the creek is narrow tho
high swells tide
dreams do freely grow
on the both side!

the short span looks far
but a few poles
the boy can reach to her
tie the two souls!

some more wooden plank
when finished then
mingle two riverbank
when I come again!
inspiration: my cover photo
Jan 2015 · 1.9k
Who is this poet?
Who is this poet?

Is he faithful to his poetry
as good as pretends to be
or his heart is ever on the darkside
nowhere near of what he writes.

Who is this poet?

Is his hat real or fake
he’s weak and easily breaks
he aims only to teach
never follows all that he preach.

Who is this poet?

Is he really that sweet
joyous and good as his wit
does he expose truly his heart
or the real he hides behind his art.

Who is this poet?

Does he have in him
all his painted dream
the lover’s happiness
he does profess.

Who is this poet?

Is at heart he's that pure
what with words he conjures
or all them are just his arty wile
he's merely spinning tales in style.
the lens turned to self.
Jan 2015 · 1.5k
Yellow and Red
Neath the shy January sun
she turns a butterfly
upon the marigold field

Flies now wildly far
amid the yellow and red flower
beyond the bounds of the catcher
in the madness of a child’s dream fulfilled
leaving wind scattered trails of her wings
over the marigold field!
my cover photo.
searching her since.
Jan 2015 · 1.9k
When I feed the birds
A peace permeates my heart
lights gleam in my eyes
when I feed the little birds
feel all darkness soon dies.

Disappear chunks of my woes
a smile breaks on my lips
as I hold them warm n close
my fingers kiss their beaks.

A bliss they give without price
that dissolve my aches n pains
when I look deep in their eyes
touch there a divine innocence.

In rough tides my solace
rescuer from life’s quicksand
they import me a happiness
while pecking from my joyous hand.
Jan 2015 · 2.3k
Pray
the world turns never so dark

light is seen
only with closed eyes.
i'm fed up with isms and faiths and dogmas with apparently lofty goals in effect battering humanity.
Jan 2015 · 1.5k
Uncaged
in the glare of space and light
she feels a terrifying fright

but soon her cramped wing
brushing aside the fencing
***** the wind into it

her little breast heartbeat
pumps all blood into vein

so they never hear her tweet again.

she flies not far
when the blaze swoops on her
and night's chill turns her into dust!
Jan 2015 · 1.9k
Ephemeral 2
I come to life
when the rain stops
and the sun
fires a light in me

my pearly heart
beats happily
swaying with the wind's song

your life would be forever long

I glisten in the belief

a raindrop on a leaf
inspiration: my cover photo
Jan 2015 · 852
A Reflection
at the mirror above the wash basin
i pause at my reflection

in spectacles and muffler
is a face familiar

where have i seen him, where?

i remember it was beamed on tv, newspaper
made headlines for some days
before on an early dawn

he was quietly snuffed out.

from the mirror
i make a hasty retreat

so closely resembles my face

with that terrorist!

back on the writing table

i ponder

if the resemblance
goes beyond the face!
Jan 2015 · 2.1k
Ambiguity
there's almost always
an ambiguity
between what my words mean
and what my mind intends them to mean.

like, with loving intention, i tell her
i can't praise you enough

she smells a ploy in praise and enough.

she interprets them as
she hasn't done enough to deserve my praise.

then, when i tell her
with age you're maturing in beauty

she takes them to mean
i'm digging at her age
and her beauty is in doubt.

last, but not the least
when i compliment her thus
you've made my life full

she retorts

no more fooling.
Jan 2015 · 824
Verrier Elwin
around the hut gathered a crowd
the Englishman had made them proud
by taking an Indian wife.

what kinda man he could be
a white skin yet unhesitatingly
embraced a native's life.

they viewed him with awe
to his kin a flaw
living and loving in a thatched house.

he was a bishop's son
that made an alien land his own
and Kosibai, a Gond woman, his spouse.
Verrier Elwin (1902-1964), one of the rare European anthropologists to assimilate into non-European society in order to have a thorough understanding of the other peoples. An Oxford-educated theologian turned anthropologist, born into the family of a clergyman, Elwin joined the Christian Service Society mission to India in 1927. In the course of his proselytising, he converted himself to an ‘Indian’.
Gond, tribal hill people of central India.
Jan 2015 · 1.1k
Designed
life is far better
in not having an answer
and reaching
a dead end.
Jan 2015 · 1.3k
The Questioner
when you go to that lane
where the houses are graves
their rooms only pain
shadows' dark waves

where winds pause morose
light is barred
closed doors and windows
keep sunshine debarred

where walls are deadened
reeking of moss
the way is a dead end
weighed with cross

you would meet a hollow face
covered in hood
who would ask *all these days
you did what good.
Jan 2015 · 1.4k
A Mid Noon Nonsense Rhyme
At the mid noon hour
above the cell tower
over two frolicking kite
swoops a plane on flight.

It has grazed the sky
spotless and dry
smelling ground cavorts
nigh is airport.

Amid wind's flutter
diurnal moon quarter
eyes droop to a rest
weighed with dreams' harvest.

The plane port bound
is circling on a round
waiting landing call
slowing to a crawl.

Love this time alone
up from dirt and grime
fiddling my cellphone
keying nonsense rhyme.
Jan 2015 · 3.7k
Why Else
is your faith so fragile
you **** to protect it?
no notes necessary
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