What more is being lost,
than not knowing where to go
for the fingers that hover over
the lettered keys have nothing to say*

And the half empty ink-***
with a dried stuck cap,
is dancing to the cries of
the un-tuned borrowed guitar
mocking the silence of a silent heart
as the shadow of a flame mocks the dark

So long have I whistled this tune,
or is it just my forte?

The windspan,

of your open arms,

incalculably magnifies

On,the simplicity of

hiding wind in your pockets,

and the stars in your eyes

That perhaps an eon hence,
When time and distance
Will finally set us apart,
And million new stars
Will adorn our skies
Some teeny ticks of time
Would still be when
A strange smile would come,
And curve your fruity lips
For no reason,
That reason, my love
Would be me.

Not that it comes not so oft,
Lifting my spirits in process aloft,
And takes me for a whirl, awhile
O’ thou lovely, shy, smile.

And then comes the ice,
In your stare so vice.
I shudder for a while, recoil
my spirits, as always, get mixed with soil.

-Shekhar Suman

I wish
A million years hence
basking in the pre-afternoon sun
when i sit,
i smile at how,
my life turned out to be.

This coquettish smile,
I splay every time,
Knowingly,
Unknowingly,
Is cold fire
Born out of
Rubbing thoughts.
Frozen I am,
Was, will be.

laugh, my laugh
and know the laughs,
cry my cry,
and feel the cries,
glance at the mirror,
with dark dull eyes,
which belong to me,
to watch your lips
curve for no reason.
crawl 'neath my skin,
and live for a day,
for only then you will hear it all,
all my heart has to say.

Not long ago, the writer of these lines,

in the mad pride of intellectuality,

maintained “the power of brain”- denied that ever

a thought arose within the human brain

that can’t be wiped away by the gales of time.

And now, as if in mockery of that boast,

a picture, painted with blurry brushstrokes,

much alike the façade of Aphrodite,

bathing in the moonlight fall of silver sparkle,

and dancing to the hymns of angels,

have exhumed a fire lost in squalls of,

distance and clocks and unvoiced passion .

Resurrected the yearn to burn in the flames

of Proclivity to glance at the seraphic vista.

Flared and charred I feel myself ashen,

and shivering.  My pen falls from stiff fingers,

and I stand at the fringe of the abyss,

with you at the bottom, and the sides

and at the start of the end and,

at the end of the start, it’s you all around

O’ I wish, somehow, I drowned.



Shekhar Suman

I
Wish
Morning
Mist finds way
Somehow inside the
Hourglass, once
Again
Now

“There is something about this breeze,

playful, calm and peaceful.

which tells you to be silent, feel

dance to the rustle, with steps graceful”



“for one more time, you feel your breath,

for one more time, you know you are alive.

for one more time, the music divine

sings in your ears, anecdote of thine”

sounds of laughter still reverberating in my heart,
i feel the showers of time cleansing my eyes,
though autumn has gone and winter is going to start,
the parrot drowned in grief is going to lie 'neath the starry skies.

wincing in the pain of miles, I am thy lover hidden in smiles

the fleet jealous of the twittering bird,
fails to see its crying insides,
and though she has lost her heart in breezes of nights,
she beautifully hides in smiles, her eyes, full of cries.

wincing in the pain of miles, I am thy lover hidden in smiles