Bring your empty words
I will re-charge them again
And make them potent;
The hollow words---
Bring them to me and
I will make them sing,
In the summer afternoon
On the glistening lips of
The workers in sweat
Working on construction sites;
Bring your faded words
I will make them shine in the forge
Of blacksmith whose sinewy hands
Will form them into forms that appeal;
Bring your sad words,
I will make them smile
On the faces of war-orphans
Street children
And cancer patients,
Because when sterile words
Of poetry come into contact
With unsaid suffering of the
Larger silent humanity,
They become fiery,
Gleam,
Mesmerize and
Truly become
The sweat-soaked words and entire syntax
Great transcendental poems!
@Sunil Sharma

You tucked your sugar candy wrapping
with surreptitious dainty dips
and lots of little body wriggles
in between my couch cushions
I found them when I did a clean

amongst a weight of quiet
tight squeezed tears
pushed by love out of sight
shaped in dainty pears
appealing with question shaped
twists and marks from subtle turns

I wish your apple secrets
kept so **** sweet
unwrapped and served
peeled with berries on a plate
in neat dressed shiny mint
response coated lozenges
so I could press that sadness out
and dissolve that reposed tinge
of unsolved hidden hurt
between your sensitive tongue
and my own open heart

I'd throw your cares
that empty wrapper stash
into red liquorice skies
to chew through a dash
of  lamp lit tinctures
and catch its splash
in tutti frutti sprays
wet with an array
of well licked flavours
but please keep away
those sticky fingers

look at your paper trail of pink and white
let's follow and pick up each far flung bow
there's a picture on one we can see smoothed out
a part of a boulevard not torn but bright
and it's a bonbon for eyes that dry I'd treat
tucked in a chat upon a couchette
to Paris with you tomorrow night