Let’s take a pledge Now,
To keep our land neat and clean.
Even our authorities truly know,
We also dream, grow, live green.

We proudly craft the nation’s fate,
With unity, courage so great.
Also guarding the Nature's age,
Not just attract by MNC's package.

Peace, Sustainability, and innovation's flame —
These will uplift Bharat’s Name.
We stand together, with voices pure,
And make our nation's future secure.

It’s Viksit Bharat’s flight,
Empowering all to shine bright.
our economy must rise at top,
But first, let corruption come to stop.
- Saish Itankar

I ruined the thought of what could have been
the dosage of limerence was so high
all the joy was destroyed with just one word
so delicate is the beauty you wake up with
a flavored scent that never goes away
I have not once dream awake while staring at you
pretty little princess in a pink bow
aghast my spirit has been living these past few years
I've felt amoral
it was never my intention to hurt you
I take back every blackened word
all my witty remarks I murmured looking at you sing
it's my fault
I hear only the soloist amongst the choir
my eyes sparkle missing the beautiful bride-to-be
quivers of happiness in front of different mirrors
a teal green silhouette dress was my favorite
my heart pounded the handful of times around you
anybody who has your name now gets their name changed
these ill demons surround my soul
I battle with my angels before I awake
please
open the door of heaven or hell
let me go into the abyss
I want to forget the aesthetic taste
fashion installed inside of your goddess spirit
the most perfect face my eyes have
immortalized mentally.

The old pine boughs,
Sway, fold, bend,
The sky’s wind tipping them low,
The tips downturned,
In the waving breeze,
But each bough holds,
Against the formidable winds.

When they fold,
The wind tells them to dance,
To sing against the voice of the breeze,
To sway like a flag,
Red white blue,
The colors of an evening sky.

While the boughs refuse to break,
They are just as a prow,
The swerving, pointed-tip of a handsome ship,
Muttering softly against the ocean,
As it carves its way,
Through the deep ocean’s blue-clear-greens.
The pine sits with its old aerial roots,
Its deep nut-brown chest swollen with pride,
Dark green needles catch some air and fly,
Still connected to the old boughs.

The old boughs watch over,
Through the night-morning-noon-evening-night,
Every storm and frost.

The old pine boughs are as great as a grain of sand,
Alone in the deep blue seas,
For no one appreciates that one old pine,
Its boughs each a prow,
For the wind and the rain.

sometimes i'm green, sometimes i'm purple.
not doing a green eggs, and ham idea here.
but, i can be purple. instead, of green.

when i get asked what my favorite color is, but i had always said since a little green pea. i don't have one, cause i never wanted to hurt the colors feelings.

but, i'm green. or, purple.

I feel forsaken
like a rolled newspaper in the rain.

Is that You? in the window box?
Is that You? magnificent in a woken engine?

I don't mean to be sullen,
a crushed flower with a brave yellow bloom--

I'm a vine growing in through the window
of your abandoned holy room.

Oh honey. My fingers flat upon
your smooth chest made of smoke,

I am rain falling ever further from her cloud.
Call me back---use your voice of *****-shaped leaves.

I will come, across the lawns and waters
to kneel at your feet
and sing.

I looked up
This morning
Before
the globe
Of life lifted from
The dark horizon

The passengers
In the sky
Began to announce
Their arrival
With frosting
Dressing the gray floaters
Tipping a hat to the mistress sun

As do the yellow roses
That glow in the darkest
Of green along the
Fence. Next to me.
Waking up.

One only knows
The presence of the days beginning
By these clouds
These flowers
And the black capped chickadee
Announcing all clear
See-see dearee
All threats are gone.