After first week runs out the thin pay
With price soaring high needs growing by day
The hard three weeks hardly pass by
Bad times stay longer don’t ask the reason why!

If only the month were cutely weekly sleek
Thin as the monthly pay spread for one week
Men would have worn happily beaming face
And not waste hours on a frantic goose chase!

A month is not richer with more days pushed in
Three weeks of workload less peace more din
One week is quite fine a month of seven day
So it stay long enough make do with thinnest pay!

The purse makes a clamor drained of all strength
A month be made a week reduce the long length
Prune three hard weeks leaving a week to stay
To make men stay happy make do with thinnest pay!

Why we delay in saying what matters the most
place it at the bottom of the list
scared it might let loose a fearsome ghost
of what's last but definitely not the least!

We speak this and that leaving it aside
keep the most necessary in the mist
beat about the bush in that bush we hide
not saying what's last but not the least!

Why we speak the most needed at the last
treat it as a monstrous beast
when we have to say it and say it we must
not say first the last but not the least!

What's the point of the deferment to last stage
and not say it at the very outset
keep delaying it and blunt its edge
turn the last but not the least into waste!

If you think my time is out
I'm old and decrepit
man I leave you in no doubt
you're wrong in every bit.

I can still live on my own
don't mind standing in the bus
still straight I keep my backbone
am hurt when you're too generous.

Am hurt when you offer me yours
in deemed kindness for one old haggard
thinking I'm a spent force
that has said its last word.

But I've not can take the bus ride
standing as tall as you
what if youth is not on my side
me an old man I don't view.

Man when you offer me a seat
hold me in sympathetic gaze
unknowingly me you mistreat
by mocking my hard earned old age.

As he scanned the far horizon of the mangrove beach
He imagined her silhouette by the sea of Norwich
A home he had left long to be so remotely far
On this alien shore with her face a distant star!

The sea winds kissed his skin in a bid to make amend
For his walks in the blazing sun weariness of dayend
He felt a peace in his ruffled mind craving for a rest
Amid the waves’ serenade dreaming a lulling nest!

What if he made his home on this ****** desolate beach
Walked the sands thought-romancing the woman of Norwich
Swam wild in the saline sea then lie in the mangrove’s shade
With no statistics to worry about only love’s buzz in his head!

Not going back to the asphalt path he would build here a hut
Laze dream lying in the shadows of wild and green coconut
In the starry evenings when the sea would hold her bewitched
He would walk the trails of scent left by the woman of Norwich!

This man went with the mission of building on the sea a port
But the mangrove gave him a reason to make there a love resort
No relic survives now the waves having carried beyond reach
All except the lingering scent of his love for the woman of Norwich!

I haven’t seen your face
Across the seven seas
Yet you have made in my heart a place
I’m drunk in your poetry.

Truth said doesn’t matter your face
If your eyes are black or brown
In your poetry’s grace
I so blissfully drown.

Don’t know if your name is real or pen
Your skin is fair or dark
Knowing your poetry is enough gain
You have made in my heart your mark.

I know this and only this much
You from across the seven seas
Have always let me feel your touch
Made my living days worthy!

In between the drudgery for hard prose called bread
pick up the hum of a pulsating thread
string them in mind give them a name
frame it in print outline of a poem!

It can be raw ripe cored and sweet
it can be anything but never complete
bitter nut cracked a songbird's tweet
the only opening heart's only conduit!

It can be anything untimely summer's rain
a pain unknown raindrops on windowpane
a sigh muted happy memory's fountain
tears for losing what would never come again!

Hold it for life for all they are worth
to breathe out the prose breathe in rebirth
in colors and shades tastes bitter sweet
a poem that is anything but ever complete!

Your paths shouldn’t lead astray

Heard it since childhood day
Heard it along all the way
What it means don’t know to this day.

It doesn’t show the way nor lifts the haze
Of a delusional journey the morality’s maze
Just a vague notion planted from the birth
Astray a wrong way is not a travel’s worth.

And that’s the dilemma all the trouble’s root
Astray the wrong way should not be one’s route
But each path has on offer its own unique view
Sublime obnoxious but stretched out for you.

Don’t I need to break shackles and explore
The way called astray what it has in store
How bad are its tracks uncouth unclean
If they are laden with only vices and sin.

Why not one day break out of shell
See if astray leads only to hell
Take chance of a choice to get away from the pain
Of the ways thought right but ashtray like vain.

In my most perilous times
I go by the devil’s book.

Burying conscience its tender rhymes
I find myself the safest nook.

In my times of hardest deals
I act as the devil wills.

Shedding my fragile conscientious guise
I find haven in compromise.

In my hours of moral crises
I decide what the devil please.

Stripping my garb of holy goodness
I find refuge in the devil’s face.

In my times when rages tempest
I qualify in the devil’s test.

His writs make me override
My morals and move onto devil’s side.

As he so thinly and lightly floated up
He saw a ****** mess crowded around.

He understood and not bothering his weightlessness

Thought I must now find my way home.

Over the mesh of cables and wires
Above the teeming dots of men and machines
He skimmed the noiseless air beyond pain.

Now I know they spoke of what gain.

Once found he thought of landing on the roof
Melt through the attic door and be right beside her
But he didn’t want to give her a scare.

He would rather take the front door.

He held to the belief he needed no mirror.

It proved right as she was just mildly surprised.

He wished he could hold her hand and say

I’m back early for you today.

But there was so little time for the frivolousness

And supposing he wouldn’t be there the next instance

Started to speak.

I came back just to tell how much I love you.

She responded in a beaming radiant face

This is madness

To have come back for what I always knew

And then as he lifted her in a demonic strength

Giggled I love you too.

When she rose to silence the phone’s ring

She didn’t see him take wing

To go home in the wind’s flow!

I held her in my gaze on the iron rail of summer noon.

This moment of humid silence wetting her heat burn cheeks

I knew would melt pretty soon.

Like moisture droplets on her lips and her palm’s sweat

This heavenly moment would retreat

With its phantoms of fancy it’s never too late!

Then sobered and in saner head

We would find our place under the banyan’s cool shade.

Soon his car was full of scars.

Was a time
He kept it clear of grime
Dusted off even a speck of soil
Put in his labors all his toil
To see
His car scratch free.

But in this running game
One after the other came
Streaks upon streaks of rough embrace
Leaving behind the ugly trace
Of unerasable scars
On his new car

Now he sings in philosophic mode
*Scratch is inevitable as you run on the road
You can travel only that far
Beyond which waits the first scar.

Defying stony indifference
Braving elements against her
Making no heroic pretense
She has taken it this far.

*She's the woman found on the way
Cuddling the baby begging her day
Not worth a look on the pave defiled
Delighted to bring this world a child.

Her skin's paramour there's no dearth
Wasted daily disrobed on earth
Then in a fulfillment absurdly wild
She gets this world a beautiful child.

The child is alive and solely hers
It must live none else she cares
She looks in its eyes in wistful trance
Sees in them her only inheritance.

I furtively glance at the wholesome flesh

afraid in case
she catches me stealing
her precious things.

There was so much bare
it seemed unfair
to have to content with one stare

With so much bare
no reason to see elsewhere
and deny my pleasure immense
at her expense

Of me
she gets little to see

As for my crotch

*it is no top-notch!

From his tiny place
He steps into a larger space.

Tells his face
He finds it nice
The blinding slice!

In that luminous relief
Of smoked glass and concrete
Is confirmed his belief

Freedom is sweet

Even an illusory one!

Before he’s back to the night
He must bite as much of it.

Must harvest to the full that walled flight
Store every bit of it

And never let that brief dreamy light

Go out of sight.

when in each breath waits a story to be unlocked?

Hand

A few playful beaking from him
And I remember
Did not soap the dirt off my hand!

Here I stand
Bothered
Praying

My parrot doesn’t get an infection.

Head*

Because it bothers
Low I stoop
To pen about bird ****!

On my way from office
Fell the hit-never-miss.

Finding no dried leaf
I used my handkerchief
And verified from a stranger
There wasn’t a stain!

Bird **** is a bane.

So they said
Is the chance my head
Would soon be bereft of hair

Quite unfair!

Here I stand
Bothered
Praying

The few remaining don’t leave me.

Come unlock my door
Everything here they ****
Beckons me a new shore
Take me for the last walk.

Count of time is past me
How long I have been in this hole
Only way I can be free
Is when you liberate my soul.

I make now only one plea
Prolong not my agonizing pain
Please have on me the mercy
Stop me from dying time again.

When I walk freedom’s last mile
Walk out the death laden cell
Fortune would upon me smile
Make me a place in hell.

Ink on her nose
Ink on her thumb
Her face a pretty rose
She stared pretty dumb.

Blue dots on her pink
Ink on her teeth
When gave her a wink
Stopped her breath.

She was a girl shy
Never smiled her teeth
I didn’t know why
She took away my breath.

The girls are now smart
Bubbly wobbly cute
Speak swift and curt
I loved that girl mute.

Her eyes were deep ocean
Had no hint of flirt
I still have no notion
How she stole my heart.

Her rosy cheeks blue pink
She won’t be back again
Gone with the ink
She’s dead like fountain pen.

Hare Krishna he greets all passing familiar face
the two invigorating words his strength and happiness
his own life in doggy mess he never misses to greet
Hare Krishna to each one his dimming visions meet!

Hare Krishna I greeted him as I passed him on my way
Hare Krishna could you stop a while I had a horrible day
the mother she came to me with her appeal in distress
save my children from death be on you god's grace.

When I reached there I found one child was already dead
an inevitable fate they suffer the children in winter bred
I heard the groan of the other one but it I couldn't reach
if only you heard the howl the doleful wail of the *****.

Hare Krishna I tried my best so badly I now feel
Hare Krishna trying is yours the rest is God's will
you tried what's not done and I salute the Man in you
who unwaveringly takes the call minds not the pain to rescue.

As he left me the ageing man passed into the evening's shadow
I saw there not just a man but a living god with glorious halo
It's men like him walk the earth that keeps it a place to dream
Hare Krishna I whispered if only I could be like Him.

Unseasonal* harvest priced too high
Just the right time to tell her a lie
Not one in the market not even a seed
What she wanted I thought for her own need!

But plump and large they were on show
Their vigor luring me calling me their glow
Fresh from the soil glistening green and cute
Jeered me mockingly the unseasonal fruit!

What anguish breeds the unseasonal fruit
Its pompous arrogance uncivilly brute
You dream of its savor yearn for a slice
Wish could bargain its unreachable price!

It argues with you it’s only the poor’s reason
They don’t taste as good as they do in the season
The excuse for not having them when the price is high
Reason enough to move away in failure’s depressed sigh!

It’s not the right time of year in the market is not even a seed
Come season you would have them plentier than your need
I told her to see the radiance come back onto her face
As she found not in my carry bag her requisitioned fruit’s trace!

It’s not for me I want them the birds they love the seed
Oh dear after so many years my need you couldn’t read
Sorry dear* I hold her and as the clouds leave her face

See there the fruit and seed of her love **seasonless!

Rise the way you want to rise
keep not ambitions in disguise
go as far go as close
with your finger touch the tiger's nose.

Do it the way you want to do
be not scared of jeer and boo
walk the path bled in thorn
with your hand grab the bull's horn.

Act the way you deem it right
you have in you the needed might
fight the enemy in its own den
in your fists clench the lion's mane.

Speak the way says your heart
say it straight never skirt
tell it all even the bitter thing
with your finger catch the hornet's sting.

Live life the way you want it
once committed no retreat
brave hindrance of the darkest night
in your wings soar the eagle's height.

when i see the youthful faces
i feel a bitter regret
curse how time crazily races
rue things for which i'm late.

my youth now seems wasn't there
or was just a fleeting span
fate dealt me a blow unfair
made me too fast old man.

if only the years did roll back
if time travel wasn't a fancy
if only was laid back the past track
i would've loved to be twenty.

why it's such i didn't care
let twenty fly too fast past me
why that year if was very much there
i didn't lock it to be forever twenty.

twenty at twenty seemed absurd an age
a fabulous but unreal mirage
it was the year i passed out college
twenty did i ever have that age.

twenty when came too fast it went
survives in the now twenty's face
for me no year an imagined moment
i curse how years quickly race.

Two brothers lazy bones were known far and wide
Devoted devils they stuck together on each other’s side
As you can guess on those idle souls life wasn’t kind
Without work they didn’t earn though they didn’t mind.

Still they managed to survive God played here his hand
The duo had a roof over head and some ancestral land
They were happy to just laze out with barely minimal meal
Spend their times at fireside with two staunch idlers’ zeal.

In fact even such rituals as bathing and nature’s call
Found them badly wanting they detested moving at all
They disliked going out of house hardly ever took a ride
Enamored of their laziness in it they preferred to hide.

The two brothers were often coaxed to go for a movie show
Couldn’t dress up never made it their limbs moved so slow
Yet they weren’t bothered for life’s joys remaining undone
Thoroughly enjoyed their laziness it held for them all the fun.

Not one good deed they ever did not once a noble act
Enslaved as they were in idleness tied to its devilish pact
None ever came to the aid of them none they ever did help
In notorious no work they stuck together keeping only to themselves.

Till one day came an ugly turn a fire broke out in their house
When all else left except them even the cellar’s mouse
In their sleep as they sensed the heat the one asked the other

My back is burning what to do please tell me kindly brother.

Though surrounded them the fire the two brothers didn’t budge a bit
Undeterred by the looming peril they kept lying in the searing heat
How do I know the other answered with eyes still not opened wide

*Go back to your sleep if it’s too hot move your back to the other side.

The winner gets his way
The loser will have his day

The winner may lose tomorrow
The loser needn’t break in sorrow

For the loser is no reason to fret
Time would come to celebrate

Today’s winner maybe morrow’s flop
For the loser with loss life doesn’t stop

There will be coming always a next chance
For the winners to lose see new winners’ victory’s dance

*Some win some lose, who to side with better not choose.

If one may wonder what kind of guy is me
What’s my real face from my faces of poetry
Am I what I write generous and ideal bound
As in real life as in my poems I am found.

Now to tell you the truth put speculations to rest
Am not exactly as I make out not that much honest
My writes bear my yearning for what I aspire to be
But I could not and that regret finds vent in poetry.

thief, burglar, you're stealing again?
I told you not to touch my biscuit

never been a stealer dear never been
me a stealer? you surely don't mean

a lie at the start of the day?
and you aren't a liar you say?

I ain't no liar you know that sweet mate
I'm a liar when one is waiting at the gate
should I keep the biscuit back at its place?

I'm no liar dear I'm no stealer
come to be just a kind dealer
when one is waiting at the gate
but would go back without regret

enough stealer go start your day

*yay...............................................

Two buds of garlic
Ginger in tea
Can't do the trick
Can't produce poetry.

Can spare you a sneeze
I'm done with too many
When blows the breeze
When it's rainy.

Where springs the fountain
Flowing ceaseless thru nose
Once sneeze sneeze again
Don't feel so morose.

It's the day to be dumb
Better if you resign
When nose is red numb
Can't pen a one line.

Through sun and the rain
It's time tested old
Once sneeze sneeze again
Lo no remedy for cold.

Gingered tea cup
Can't **** the enemy
It's time to wrap up
Close the shop for poetry.

Starved in daylight,

survive on ready meat of permissive night.

Her perfume fills the air
she is not that fair
next to me devouring my thought
sits the woman a harlot.

By my side in the bus
a traveler of different class
I sit engrossed in her thought
she's a woman then harlot.

I imagine in pensive thought
when a harlot what she's not
what's her lot to force a choice
to let ravagers in her rejoice.

A harlot then she isn't good
not decent is her attitude
she smells of cheap perfume
she reeks of ****** gloom.

I let my thoughts roam free
how otherwise she could be
what if she wasn't a harlot

*yet her body not mind was bought!

I'm now going to hear you
not babble myself anymore
I'm now going to hear you
not shut on you my door.

Do tell me now the unfinished
do tell me now what knocks
tell me all I badly missed
while I kept my ears in locks.

I'm now going to hear you
like I listen to a singing bird
I'm now going to hear you
not miss from you a word.

Do tell me all that's unsaid
do tell me what I missed
give me all words you made
for me rain drenched sun kissed.

I'm now going to hear you
not shut you out anymore
unheard but long overdue
you kept for me in store.

Do tell me all you wanted to
sweet funny bitter sublime
all that in your mind grew
I heard not a long time.

I'm now going to hear you
all that for long I missed
your words unseen like morn's dew
rain drenched and sun kissed.

Maybe so I willed
In half sleep’s ethereal stream
In January’s mustard field
She hugged me in liplocked dream!

What now she said eye on eye
I’m come past all fear
So our lips never go dry
Nothing stops us from here!

I put my tongue on hers
Rolled in her saliva filled
Her eyes blinked million stars
Traveling time in the mustard field!

Bloomed yellows thunderous bright
Rained sky a sweet redress
Dream came at end of night
Wept wet in her embrace!

I tiptoed on her bedside
Her lips quivered moist filled

Maybe so she willed

Same dream in the mustard field!

after one euphoric kiss
you hardly notice
her weathered cheeks

she is a Venus
she's tenacious
her beauty sticks

it moves you to tears
when went the years
you didn't notice

she matured from teen
ripened her green
since that euphoric kiss

how it's so
her beauty's glow
breezed past you

it moves you to tears
though ripened the years
she was ever new

was it so far
you right beside her
yet gave her a miss

ripened her years
you now see through tears

the first euphoric kiss

The pauper’s bread is his philosophy
The affluent’s philosophy is bread
Though the pauper hasn’t a bread too many
His dog is always well fed!*

The joy of sharing he knows best
His bread he cuts into two
The pauper the vermin the nagging pest
At heart is the most well-to-do!

He knows the joy of togetherness
To divide from his scrap of bread
The pauper a slur on the human race
Sees his dog doesn’t remain unfed!

He knows he can’t do without this help
He is too alone on this ride
The pauper knows better than to live with self
Loves his dog on his side!

Stares at him a blank page
Stares at him a blind rage
Stares at him a maddening pause
Stares at him an indeterminable cause

It seems so unfair
Before him is only laid bare
A taunting silence
Tearing into his patience
Dragging him down to bottom
Raising him up the cliff
Tossing him in the storm
Showing him no relief!

And it’s precisely then
Over the shattering pain
Emerges a newly born light...

He feels a palpable might.

He rejoices in its voice.

Past the night’s turbulence
Would be revealed at the dawn
The hidden shapes in the silence
The picture fully drawn!

A picture sans all flaws
For you drawn on the canvas
Making redundant a cause
For effects that far surpass!

My sweetest times were spent with them
They brought me here gave me a name
The only ones to be called my own
Now shadowy reflections in my moments alone!

His voice blurs faint as the years go by
Her face is a haze in the distant sky
I found from them an unmatched love
Living to this day in my treasure trove!

They gave me here a place to claim
Brought me here gave me a name
On this day of blessing and wish
I feel them within find a soothing peace.

With them in his pocket he broke in swinging dance
But now nonentity two penny gets no chance

Two penny is so poor got no clue what to do
No fetcher it can’t bring him a slice of the blue

He wanders on the way on him was fifty buck
Spent them on tangibles soon ran out of luck

Two penny is so poor can’t bring his eyes a gleam
Can’t make him a winner can’t weave for him a dream

He sniffs the evening air smells palate tickling food
But what with that two penny that isn’t any good

Two penny in his pocket with a little try
Fetch him a little blue a piece of his sky
Where he can paint his wish find fulfilment
Fly in the happiness of two penny well spent.

What magic is there in the spotless pin bird sky
Dreams sun in soft glow pause in whispered cry
Amid the cooing white doves bathing the aural calm
Lament the lengthening shadows of winters yet to come!

The silent wind stirs deep in to find the mind a wretch
Mourning of the moribund time of unseen wasted stretch
If only it could still pick up the threads of each instance
Retrieve what’s gone with them by a miracle one last chance!

The songs come back the past is heard in its sweetest voice
The years you lived you lived in full by your destined choice
Each of them the winters gone exists in sun kissed piece
So you live them this afternoon and you too they don’t miss!

You too they don’t miss is when the winter speaks its heart
For times will ever roll in amid the illusion that they depart
Amid the cooing white doves bathing in the aural calm
Someone you would be there in the shadows of winter to come!

Smell of last rain still not dried on their bark
They stand skyward taller somber and dark
I part the sodden grass to see if there’s a mark
Of the autumn’s trail when I last walked the park!

Does it still survive there the hushed canopied shade
Where sweet nothings were whispered commitments made
Dreams grew like wild grass and then in despair bled
As time ripped the woven words made them a barren glade!

Do they still come there in two lover’s timeless face
Sit on the wooden bench embraced in sculpted grace
For in those summer noons they hadn’t an address
Except in the labyrinth of heart a misty priceless place!

Can I still find them the two heads drawing close
Looking bonded for eternity breathing from one nose
Never making it but never timeworn forever new
In the pursuit of autumn’s trail the duo of me and you!

Smell of last rain still not dried on their bark
They bough over the couples in foliage green dark
For years will breeze past but they’ll make their mark
When they choose to hold hand and walk into the park!

She has her secret magic
to keep men's hopes alive
she's truly fantastic
the girl the woman the wife

On earth the heavenly flower
in color's riot blooming wild
south wind and summer's shower
god's face is she girl child

The morning though passes to noon
times in her wings fly
she's a woman too soon
the woman of my eye

The woman of all weather
without her man is woe-man
she's wife sister mother
the way only a woman can

She fathoms what men don't tire
see her heart burned and holed
till she walks the whole length of fire
and be the woman in their eye old

When the evening glimmers day slowly turns dead
I peek at my watch sweet six in my head
Walk in windy sprint in cheerful childly gait
To reach home in time meet you sweet mate!

When the few hours seeming like weeks
Roll out prolonged till they reach six
I pick up my bag leave the tedium behind
To reach home in time my sweet mate in mind!

When the day unfolds bland time slowly ticks
The clock acts too lazy to reach the magic six
I hold on the belief the evening won’t be late
To ferry me in time to my waiting sweet mate!

When nothing seems to tick except my weary watch
As it trundles into six I say thank you very much
For though you ran so lazy reached six at any rate
To tell the time is ripe to rush home for sweet mate!

When each hour passes mundanely alike
Work drags slowly painting the day prosaic
Past its burned hours beyond the toil’s sweat
Chimes the magical six it’s time for sweet mate!

There’s always a fifth man in the cab.

The fifth man
Pathetic pitiable
Ignored
Smoked out

And the one to go out
Before the ride begins

The fifth man never finds a place in the cab.

Find on his face
The smoke’s trail

Find in his look

Written bold

FAIL.

He’s the one without a place

He’s the one leaving no trace

He’s the one without a room in the cab.

Find on his face
(though you wouldn’t care to look)

the smoke’s trail

of time and again failing
to find a room

find in his look

written bold

DOOM.

For the fifth man there’s no space in the cab.

While others win
(or so they think)

ends his journey

before it begins.

The fifth man is forever out of the race.

Never makes one of four

When closes the cab’s door.

Find on his face

Written bold

LOST DEAL.

The fifth man ever out of the cab

Still

Isn’t a fifth man

By his own free will!

It all started after two deaths struck the family
The house was devastated it happened so quickly
They were still in mourning coping with the shock
When was heard their presence the eerie nightly knocks!

The sadness was soon replaced by a sense of horror
Footsteps were heard with none on the corridor
The lights went off their own stones pelted from nowhere
Doors banged without a gale lost things weren’t anywhere!

Ashes dumped on food filled jug was soon empty
Wastes lay littered in rooms locked and debarred entry
Nights were spent sleepless each stayed on bed awake
Praying for the knockings to stop arrival of daybreak!

The terrorized house lay numb without a key to the mists
Till they had them enough the pranks of the evil spirits
Too long was going this at their cost the ghostly ruckus
Not deterred by one’s boastful claim we got a gun with us!

When the unwanted visitors showed no signs of retreat
Priests were summoned to drive out the evil spirits
They said not one but the house is playing host
To not one evildoer but a bunch of malevolent ghosts!

They performed for three days got bagful royal treat
Then they were gone but the visitors didn’t retreat
It was by now known they would go on till
Their mission accomplished they could close the deal!

One day it all stopped as suddenly as did start
Quietly they left sprightly souls did depart
But also found were gone with the phantoms’ revelry
Grandpa’s saved gold coins all Grandma’s jewelry!

On a y-shaped twig hanging on the stream
The kingfisher was absorbed in fishy dream
Move close I told myself move as close
To make sure you shoot its meditative pose.

Instinctively manifold alert and smart
It didn’t oblige me as an object of art
But flew away with the thought in its mind

**No luck now with a ******* creeping behind!

Fried brinjal rolled in flatbread
Her magic recipe of love homemade
What treasure they hold what charm unlocks
When sharp at two opens up lunchbox!

A sweet candy from the finest cheese
Made from cow milk a salivary bliss
I feel helpless and little can do
My belly when growls sharp at two!

I feel entranced in that magic hour
When smell green peas and cauliflower
She makes them fine rich butter spread
The toasted breads her love homemade!

She knows my bowel not makes it rich
Fine cut cucumber in soft sandwich
In all them I find her special brew
Of love homemade to be opened at two!

Though it’s never that I made her known
How sweetly relish her love homegrown
But when I open lunchbox at two
Wonder without her what I would do!

In his own class
His ninety summers’ lens focus
On the fine print
To uncover the hidden tint!

All his peers long gone
He cheerfully carries on
In a way he isn’t mortal anymore
And death would never knock his door!

But for occasional drifts into past’s ember
He needs not much to remember
Except to pour over the thick bound book
Befitting his timeless wizened look!

In his nook on his lonely perch
He still isn’t tired of the search
For chancing upon that ultimate tint
Still baffling him in its blurring print!

She isn't writing poetry anymore.

*nay, maybe she's writing
but hiding
them from the world
pouring inks all over them
when she finishes
in her agonized realization
there's no finish
and only beginning
each time starting all over again

her unfinished story

with each poetry!

Saturdays will never be the same.

My Saturdays

not seeing him a fortnight
is he gone with the light in his eyes
to the land of eternal light?

Come Saturdays

he doesn't follow me anymore
in his staggering walk to my door
hiding his worldly pains
for a morsel of my handful grains

Come Saturdays

he isn't waiting on my way
in another aching day
unable to stand on his feet
but not giving up giving
his silent greet

Come Saturdays

I utter his name

*My Saturdays will never be the same.

A stupid question
With the answers

Luminous

It’s that long
What it takes
To unearth
All the love
Begot on earth
For you

It’s that long
What it takes
To travel the way
To know
You got more joy in giving
Than receiving

It’s that long
What it takes
To close your mouth
And wait in patience
To listen what’s uttered
In the silence

It’s that long
What it takes
To reach the point
Where you feel fulfilled
Without a visible gain
In your coffer

It’s only not that long
That you live

*In years

Happens for the good.

With every loss
I turn a better man,

Seeing clearer
Learning
That wouldn’t have come in any other way

Then shedding as I move on

A piece of rotten me
Blinded by ego
Seeing what was not there
Hearing what was unsaid
Evaluating only by my yardstick
Stuck in the muck of my own making!

Whatever happens
Even when that makes heart bleed
Burn and break me

Make me

A better man.

Keep your eyes on the road* she says at the door
But he knows better it nibbles at his core
There isn’t no real dangers lurking beneath
They’re looming high up to ***** out his breath!

He nods his head and bows out of the house
It isn’t worth a heed the caution of his spouse
For he knows the real dangers lie above his head
Waiting the pull of gravity hanging in thinnest thread!

With each step he stops to take a look at the sky
Down here is quite safe high up the perils lie
It’s a wonder human minds are still stuck to the myth
That eye must look down when walking upon the street!

As he looks at the high rises inside he shivers tense
They are too eerily tall to hold for long balance
Can come down any moment by itself or if hit
Throw down chunks of debris crush lives on the street!

What if of all those signboards grown weary of bearing load
One crashes down on someone whose eyes are on the road
Down here is no real dangers up there are fearsome ghosts
In the form of cell phone towers sky hugging light posts!

Once more the thought shivers him how in an instant one can die
By a blow coming from high up hitting unseen from the sky
He thanks god that he doesn’t heed what his spouse has to say
But keep his eye riveted to the sky so he survives another day!