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Postman Jul 2017
Twists and turns,
gorges and meanders,
war against
the watershed
in a relentless desire
to be one.


Complication
is simple
as simplicity
cofuses.


Amidst the maze,
there's barely any haze,
every turn has an end.


A straight long highway
though goes undistorted,
won't let anyone see
what is there ahead.


Eye-sight is sure to fail,
the sight before those
who took the easy trail,
won't either be a help.


As they won't dare to accept
their wise unreasonableness,
dismissal of the their realness!


The righteousness
of the outer world
is enough
to ruin the natural reason
that reigns the land that lies in
the inner world of
green-seed possibility.


A leisure walk
in a labyrinth
doesn't promise a destination.
Then,
there's the threat to be lost.


Confusion
is a constant company,
as advices echo like an earworm.


As there's none
to pat your back
and millions of fingers
pointing at you,
with some dreadful derision.



You end up losing
the slightest peace
as
the precious perennial spring
refuses to flow
in ephemeral unbelief,
repentance wrecks
the very zeal of exploration.


The desire to reach the core
may sink
before meeting the shore.


Doubts may loom
as early as
you step out of
the wise path to doom.


Sometimes it may even seem,
the highway has all the peace
in its offering
for each
of us.


So at times,
the labyrinther meets
the mirror of mockery himself.


But
amidst the darkest of disdain
you must call
someone on the highway
in order to put the mazy route
in comparative sunray.


If
complexity
is your cup of coffee,
simplicity
isn't going
to make you happy.


For a change,
be a fool,
go deep down
the darkest wood.


Ask
the wise-you
to leave some space
for the fool in you.


Allow
the fool
to invigorate
himself
and
let
him
pluck the flowers
of courage
so that he can stand
the breaking barrage of
a game of illusions
called reality.


Okay!
Let's call it
what it is.


A story called life,
with a tiny
variance of choice
made by one
who
sought
an atypical approach!
Postman Jul 2017
An artistic soul
worships art even
in the darkest of times.
Art is the light that guides you
when all drift far away from your side.
At that time, you'll meet a new set of people.
They'll traverse the track in your very rhythm.
They will also dance as artfully as you do,
at times it will seem fun to have them too.
But no matter how many choose
to dance to your tune,
but you must
remember
you can't defer
isolation forever.
Postman Jul 2017
Lo! Lucid love looms
Hope in your and my eyes blooms
Would the tussle end?
Postman Jul 2017
Tense nerve
lack of verve
feels the dove
when in love
Postman Jul 2017
The vivaldian violin on
the sweet green grass,
the melodious moon
oozing sensuous bass,
'Tis a time drenched in
delicate honey delight.

On the luscious grass,
I swoon under the moon
as you, with a fine gaze,
send my mind to a maze.

The maddening wine
in your twinkling eye
invites the amorous vine
to rise high, up in sky.

As I see the ritzy river
embracing the rivulets,
lakes amidst lakelets,
islands around islets,
offer life in a new hue,
all in one fine you.
Postman Jul 2017
The warmth of a bonfire is what I seek,
amidst the chilly alpine milieu, under the sky,
a sky that is clear and dark at the same time.

I wish for the densest darkness
as I yearn to witness the brightest glimmer,
the lucid shimmer of the twinkling starlight,
unmarred by a circuit of city-light.

Misty monsoon in a cup of coffee,
in search of milk-warm sunray
with reasons rolled in a scroll,
entwining fantasy on the window pane,
craves for a life as easy as it was
in the book of the binomial theorem.

— The End —