Honesty is sheer *******.

dishonest preach it
honest suffer it.

the mind
has its own futile cravings
satisfied in succumbing!

Making best use of the adverse weather
Road kittens and puppies grow together

The ma dog suckles the kittens orphaned
And the ma cat though wary of suckling the pups

Keeps a watch on the pups so they don’t stray too far
Besides keeping them together in the warmth of her fur

Before my eyes happen this caring effortless

Why men find it hard to care thus for happiness!

The right attitude
sadly
is always
the most difficult attitude!

Sometimes she visits
leaves mind no traces
sometimes she lingers
for long

Sometimes her spirit
quickly vanishes
sometimes she stays
like a song!

Sometimes she dresses
real too fast
sometimes her clothes
she not finds

Sometimes she presses
for her fill of lust
sometimes she messes
my mind!

Sometimes her eyes
upon mine stay
sometimes her cries
look away

Sometimes her smile
showers like rain
sometimes they rile
cause me pain!

Sometimes her hands
cling to me tight
sometimes like sands
drift away

Sometimes her lands
are hazy and grey
she seems remote
far away!

*Yet she ever makes me feel
she loves me upon her sight
me her heart always wills
all of the day and night!

Upon sleepy creek she rests
calm water dull august noon
memory are now all the crests
riding the waves in the moon!

Sailed the lunar breeze pearly sea
swam wispy phosphorescent gleam
when the night sang a lullaby
stars wove a blanket of dream!

Held her heart all the lovers’ trance
stolen kiss blown in the wind
on her breast joyous feet’s dance
tears of romance fallen ruined!

August noon resting weary
spins a sea for her to retrace
must find her way the ferry
to be lost in the waves’ embrace!

A pain gnaws him as he looks out to the falling day.

On this land of dimmer glow and vaster stretch

stings him the thought

separation could be such unimaginably painful!

From the beginning he had dreamed a resemblance
had hoped for it

between this world and his

but his wildly scanning senses
keep bouncing on a dead wall!

He remembers how he missed home
from a few scores of miles

and when younger

even five hundred yards from mom
was enough for tears...

Here he’s away five hundred light years!

The night dawns with the blue moon sphere.

He has to live from now on

*his worst nightmare!

So you say poems don’t sell
ain’t no buyer for your works
arduous hours of a job done well
go down the drain fetch no perks!

You’re right poems do don’t sell
though you fill them with heart’s spice
by the hour growing weary and frail
you surely can’t feel any nice!

A dollar a poem how fine it would be
add a dollar a read to it
but poems are meant to be sold just free
you aren’t to be paid for the feat!

But you’re wrong poems do sell
them the readers do buy
when to their heart your thoughts travel
and their spirit soars up sky high!

In the falling light of day
I read the old man a book.

Stories of love, enmity, deceit
Jealousy, betrayal, sacrifice
All from one author’s mind
One penning hand
Some very short some too long
But nowhere do I find
He has taken a stand
On virtue and vice
Right and wrong
Belief faith
Destiny fates
Nowhere asserts
If he is theist atheist agnostic
Nor invokes god
Praise or curse him.

I read and the old man nods

in the falling light of his day!

A fear in the certainty

A bliss in the forgetting!

when we see ourselves
as being here
to comfort others.

Kicked around

Numbers countless

Makes no sound

This numb ****!

A mysterious crave entwined the air
in that moment all words were mess
when river breeze frolicked with her hair
sun pinked rose smeared her face!

We stood below a casuarina tree
the dust windblown scattered far
neath slumberous sky that breathed lazy
there was so much I wished to tell her!

But rested my hand upon her nape
dreaming that frame to shimmer long
with a clumsy yearn that took no shape
dropping to earth with casuarina's song!

Of passing time a momentous shot
in the autumn noon’s silent cavern
a ripple’s life was all it got
no rewind could be no return!

I know what time it is
At your place five past three
Night’s thinning for goodbye kiss
You are sunk in poetry!

Moon seeks recline to west
Stars are craving dawn of sun
Yet your mind hasn’t found rest
Chasing words on the free run!

Go to sleep angel tarry not
Before the fire burns you whole
For the coming day spare a thought
Close eyes till the night is coal!

You need to stop before hours grow small
Birds wake up in dewy rain
Rest my angel can’t catch them all
Your poems of joy and pain!

Buried in the quagmire of questions

the lonely traveler gasps.

Faith suffocates, belief stifles

and he seeks answers no more.

He regrets he walked into a one way trapdoor.

Inspector Fox felt emotionally blackmailed
his eyes blurred the first time in his life
the man cried pitifully to have the suspicion dispelled
there was motive for him to have killed his wife.

I picked her up almost from the street
you can call it love at first sight
whose fragrance in heart I always carried
showed me the way her love’s light.

If you ask if she was always faithful to me
she was and not a moment she left my side
laid herself bare and so happy were we
years passed like an endless joy ride.

Never ever, never once, I have to say
she set her eyes on any other man
happy as she was in my love all the way
as I was in my loveliest woman.

She loved not me but only my money
so would the tongues roll in mischief
how they envied that I was so lucky
our devotion to each other was beyond belief.

Behind me she slept with other men
I had to bear with many such gossip
two love doves we were crazily insane
our love was true and fathomless deep.

It hurt me Mr. Fox and I couldn’t take it anymore
those ******* spreading canards about her
so I started to love her more than before
and now must have killed her some jilted lover.

The inspector noted each word in his book
thanked him and got up to go
to give the note a good look
at home in his table lamp’s glow.

He read it once and then again and again
each line in isolation and with the rest
till he pieced together only the first lines
arrived at the confession cleverly crafted!

You know my maths teacher
He was my greatest torment
Though I had to address him sir
Would rather have called him sirpent!

Easier sums he solved for us
The hardest he left for me
While I was made a fool in the class
He would watch and smile in glee!

I found him always scheming
To prove I was one big *******
Who couldn’t solve the easiest thing
And deserved on the back a bash!

I still shudder at the thought of him
My time with him was worst spent
He comes back to haunt me in dream
Not for nothing I call him sirpent!

And then there were none.

They came and they went..

silent joy simple fun

the starry firmament.

While for words this mind craved

the wind blew unheard

While this ink raved

flew away the singing bird!

The stars got weary of twinkling

real moon turned an imagined one

These blind eyes had no inkling
how they debarred the simple fun.

When they turned to behold

this madness was done

times hid in wrapped fold

And then there were none.

He has the acumen to charm
His words don’t reveal his mind
With your emotions he plays with skill
He is a charmer deft in his art!

He preaches what he doesn’t practice
His craft hides from you his real face
In his life he has never given peace
Never brought one soul happiness!

His art keeps the audience enthralled
His songs make the listeners sway wild
But in him is a devil installed
He is farthest from innocence of a child!

What he shows to you is the husk
You never get to see the real face
A charmer his art is a mask
In life he **** cares goodness!

A plastic bag without a handle
A pair of straps without a sandal
A briefcase with rusted locks
A pair of old worn out socks
A never used candelabrum
An empty jar of finished gum
A broken door iron cage
A lost book’s tattered page
A piece of cloth insect holed
An old calendar neatly rolled
A fluorescent light long dead
A clay puppet’s broken head
A fountain pen sans its cap
An old atlas dusty map
A bunch of cassette in tin box
Nails and screws unused locks
Cable tape wire and plug
Grandpa’s brolly faded rug

Can’t disown throw them out

Fond attachments without doubt!

Have not seen them for quite a while
Breaking like a thousand springs
Its ripples spreading across a mile
Touching heavens on butterfly wings!

It’s infective in its length and span
Cackling joyous like a thousand duck
God would be charmed (not to speak of man)
Its spell makes every man awe struck!

It’s quite a while life is losing fun
With faces wearing botox on stressed lip
Not getting at least one when the day is done
To give this soul a stronger fillip!

I need your muscles playing around your eyes
Your cheeks raised high for me to see
Doing so would bring me double sunrise
And live each day ever more happily!

I haggle over the price a kilo

a city fellow
deft in bargain

The veg seller
she’s a minnow
simple plain

Cuts the price
smiles so nice
her profits dip

She didn’t say
if I had my way

would buy her cheap!

She lives alone in a rented pigeonhole
with a lone window forbidden from sky
her skins now a parched scroll
in her eyes no more sparks’ fly!

In that april shadow as she stood at the stair
she looked an absurd ghost from faraway time
the world moved on but little did she care
rested her beauty cocooned sublime!

From across years looked her ethereal face
as if she knew the question haunting me
enough to shatter her fragile happiness

why you never did marry!

Perhaps I had my fill in that first moon crush
when my caged heart was dreaming to be free
pierced her words the evening hush

*one love was enough for me.

In the village haat
our hands collide
my left with her right

a moment’s flirt
she by my side
in the paraffin light!

Comes to close
she quickly goes
blushing shamed

how she knows
bloomed a rose
to be never named!

On the river's this side
the boat waits for high tide.

*beckon me the far line trees
'neath looming clouds congealed mysteries
to sail yonder in long winds' way
where dipping sky touches bay!

But I don't have the wind's will
to cut the rope and sail upstream
having swallowed the bitter pill
of deep slumber in buried dream!

Show not their thinnest trace
let the words wear a happy face
how harsh may be the day’s living
hide the tears and broken wing!

Write me one sunshine poem
for my day dwindling in burning flame
needs your ink to see me through
by words beaming with lights of you!

To give their face a facelift
on the lip and around eyes
invented was lipstick
extracted from dyes.

Ah a woman’s lips
have held for countless age
her mind’s secret tips
love, hatred, rage!

Her lips parted pursed
speak the subtlest lines
of a relation gone accursed
or one in glowing shines!

It’s not when lips do part
but when she’s tightlipped
the silence breaks man’s heart
the strongest one gets ripped!

But sure her puckered ones
they invite you to a bliss
sparkle like thousand suns
when land on you as kiss!

Can a year change a man

to what he is
from anything else

of life
his notions
emotions

Can a few garbled words
of unshapen thoughts
inked on paper
carve the way
for the rest of his days

Can a teen’s painted mind
a treasure finds
that he holds on
making him alone
but rich in loneliness
never craving to possess
but embrace
what’s his destined
a love a heart
but when goes past
never breaches his trust

Can a year make a man
what he would be
the rest of his life
when he inked on paper
his first poem
that to this date
shapes his fate
keeps him free.

Did all these the year

1973.

the red girl turning blue
means she's falling for you
displays her love's basic
your charm has done the trick.

the blue girl turning red
means your chance is bleak
displays no love is bred
your sight makes her acidic.

the red girl remaining red
the blue girl remaining blue
in this worst case I'm afraid
she's neutrally looking at you.

With her grandchildren on the seashore
where the sky has mingled with sea
a rumbling she hears over waves’ roar

this was the beach she was supposed to be!

The boy rained kisses her eyes had poured
she was breaking so breaking within
cut her bones the splintered dreams
couldn’t take it the girl of eighteen!

Though parting for now will be in your reach
when the full moon makes tides wildly rough
please be that day on the Cuthbert beach

passed thirty years to cross the gulf!

She doesn’t regret wonders to this day
if really the boy caught the moon
standing alone on the crags of the bay
hearing the gulls’ mournful croon!

Not lose your mind
nor heart
when a job you lose

there's another to find
make a new start
another to choose.*

With the job you lose goes the earn
don't think there you would be stuck
soon for you the tides would turn
come knocking your door good luck.

You never really loved the job you lost
money was the only call
but it made you pay a high cost
and the return was meagerly small.

Ruined your hours numbed your soul
the job robbed all your smile
surely on you took a heavy toll
caged your mind all the while.

Money is the need to pay the bill
for even breathing needs buck
but the job you lost stole your free will
made you to be a lame sitting duck.

Ever wondered if god was thinking
To make a move or deemed no need
When closed in the vulture’s wing
Smelling a cadaverous human feed.

There was a poem
awaiting me
from the morn

announced her name
showed faintly
shy to be born!

She walked all night
along my dreams
fell as dew

robbed daylight
its howling screams
she hardly grew!

She tore my sleep
her garbled rhymes
thumped heartbeat

I couldn’t keep
her broken lines
on crumpled sheet!

There was a poem
awaiting me
from the morn

her incoherence
made no sense
she was stillborn!

Cuts the midday heat’s eerie lull
the knife cutter’s call...

from his pedaled wheels
rise dust haze

his own life a walk on ledge

gives your knife the razor edge!

There’s a box I bolted my sorrow
But hear it knocking kicking to be out
I keep it telling I’ll free you tomorrow
His prison he will break one day no doubt!

For the box gets old and the lock grows rust
And sans my feeding sorrow isn’t any frail
Bides time in prison knowing one day must
It’s going to be free have me in its spell!

I write happy poems breed smiles as mate
Use all my ink to drown sorrow’s voice
But sorrow in silence goes spinning its net
I hear its cries rend sounds of joys!

There’s a box I bolted my sorrow
And would rather not worry when it breaks free
I’m more than happy it’s locked till tomorrow
written on the box to be cheered by daily!

slosh slumber river noon
dumber life behind
skim fishing gull's croon
poetry far from mind!

flirty wave tosses boat
why a dream no clue
script for day someone wrote
only for us two!

winds too know cavort blow
land as dusted kiss
dizzy lips drink it slow
doze in lover's bliss!

stakes are high hours short
must grab hold it tight
'fore it melts on the port
dims the river light!

Pretty Woman

rest your head on my shoulder

you are richer wine

as you grow older!

On my shoulder is a space

that craves much

the spark of happiness

from your loving touch.

Now my shoulders

been imprinted these years

with your joys your tears

there you have not grown older!

Pretty Woman

my shoulders lust your rest

and for as long they can

reap the divine harvest.

there is no respite from love

no need ever

really.

Tell you the truth the ones in teen
There was a time I was your age
When I didn’t yield to the words’ din
Spent not the days pouring on page!

But passed hours in the nooks of noon
Smelling old books sniffing at dreams
Rode my wings to the diurnal moon
Never on page poured ink’s streams!

Fought many battles with enemy unseen
soared high up to the depth of sky
With ease painted the needed scene
Jotting them down I never did try!

I loved to love the girl next door
Though hadn't ever seen clearly her face
Imagined myself the princely amour
And she my heart’s pretty princess!

I spent much time in a world my own
On trails of mystery and missing link
Might have yearned inside a poet to be grown
I didn’t waste time staining paper with ink!

By the wayside
iron in hand
presses salts of her oceanic eyes
as passes life's flowing tide.

Shreds us the life
With bruises and cuts
Our days run rife
In the ifs and buts!

If the day was bright
If hadn’t fallen rain
If quickly passed the night
If living was no pain!

But the day was a mess
But the winds blew harsh
But time was hard pressed
But cloud hid the stars!

If happened how we need
If they all smoothly clicked
If luck came with speed
If clock slowly ticked!

But things ran amok
But nothing went right
But faced a roadblock
But fortune took flight!

Tear us apart the ifs and buts
Do steal away all happiness
Wound our life with bruises and cuts
Alas for them we have no redress!

When the clouds web a raven moon
His thirsty eyes your eyes may meet
And unless your senses frigidly swoon
Can hear may I have tea and biscuit!

The hungry seeker is ever on roam
Carrying in winds his heavy sighs
With none to call his own and home
Except night’s stray passersby!

If you stop some moments with him
Can hear war stories and his bravery
In soldier’s pride his eyes still gleam
His eyes are wet when speaks of Annie!

He roams the night till the moon is veiled
His home is here this earth his heaven
Loving to chat with the souls strong willed
About Annie who he left at forty seven!

Write
because everything needs to be written

like bud's bloom.

When the last train chugs out of the station
the doppler sound mingles
with his unseen tears’ flow

I got nowhere to go.

The lone small window will close
chrome sun won’t come soon
night would echo in silent flow

I got nowhere to go.

They all went their home

a place on earth
where a heart
where a hearth
sews a peace
brews a love

only his eyes burn
in fireflies’ glow

I got nowhere to go.

In the crickets’ hum
sleep doesn’t come
and it’s long since the last train rolled
from this barren cold.

He can’t make sense
can’t follow

*Why he got nowhere to go!

I’ll walk up to her
seek her hand
one September
in the far meadowland!

Where the grass grows tall
the sky is low
dreams are small
hearts aglow!

I’ll walk up to her
taste her lip
one September
love her deep!

Where the winds don’t cease
in their song
just one kiss
grows love long!

I’ll walk up to her
to read her eyes’
shining star
she can’t disguise!

Where the needs are small
in reach is sky
giving easy is all
in love to die!

The sodden sky was ominous gray
Halted wheels on fruitless span
I knew I had lost my way
When from earth shot up one old man!

There he was by the broken bridge
With soiled hands face smiling
His long white beard hid agelong crease
And bar him the road had no one thing!

I asked him the way to the old fort
For rolled the wheels in vain too far
He caught me up in quick rapport
As flew in the winds his monkly hair!

He told the story when the English came
And how they struggled in the hostile clime
Built the bridge got the river dammed
Now broken pillars of ravaged time!

Twenty miles he said need to go
Till you reach the fort now a rubbled pile
On the left with you would be river’s flow
That’s half an hour with a forty mile!

I have so much to tell about this place
The English bridge and all the story
But I know he said with time you race
If only you could spend an hour with me!

On this first day of September
as I look up at the rainwashed sky
with cheerily flying grey white storks
I grow fonder of belonging.

This is the place I call mine
where in the autumnal shine
open all doors
and the wind whispers

All is yours
yours

this is your place
forever and no less

all of today
and tomorrow

for you made
yours in essence.

This September day
insignificant becomes transience!

Mr Deek

when needs to speak

can't hold his length.

it's such a burden to be good
manifold grows your shoulder's load
conscience driving you to what you should
you're a constant walker on a tortuous road!

it's such a burden to be good
you feel a lot of breath on your nape
you can be everything but ever a rude
with people watching your every step!

it's such a burden to be good
you can't relax to ever be mean
can't talk rough or have a bad mood
you have to live up to how good you've been!

it's such a burden to be good
and once you are there there's no way to halt
acting bad is the last thing you ever could
and goodness brings you the worst downfall!

i cant name that pain
when i see a human foraging food
beneath a large hoarding of a restaurant

i cant express that feeling of helplessness
when i see a human feasting on leftovers
thrown by a mouth too full to gorge more

i cant put in words that paralytic numbness
when i see a human and an animal together
pouring on the roadside bin for something

i cant give all these pains a name

or tell you about them in a rhymed poem.