When you called me hi friend
It's pleasure without end
You struck the cord that bound
And left me free of count.

When you called me brother
You find me close further
That cleared of all my bother
Though I'm too a father.

When you called me O dear
It shook me like a deer
You set me free to tears
With glee that flush all smears.

When you called me O son
I felt with you as one
I looked upon the sun
And everything with fun.

So now it's my concern
If allowed to take my turn
What address would you prefer
To dress and free you for ever?

You want everything excellent from him
Can't afford, understand how much he burnt
Of his self the candle, the oil turned
Low in the pail, the toil to see you can't.

Not to fail to prevail hard he takes his tool
Every time you try to derail his profile cool
With loud laments upon the un-attained
Without standing  a while in praise of what's gained.

A soothing word of grace for the acts that comprise
In fact parts of him too a human caprice.
Some eternal fuel supply the sheen
From an unknown source we believe
Hide beyond the cosmos we live.

For what he does is not his power
But whose behind him under cover
With patented rehearsal who hold
The instincts in his dream could code
And pull decode in no time with strings
His acts are bound per whose wish he springs.

But you demand him to excel and act
your script well and bewail
The one he couldn't afford the travail
The same might be against whose will
That he may over do the strain
whose strings may not hold the sprain.

But since your love is visible to him
Surrenders he like a child in its prime
But you want him to pay rent, a
tenant
For the love space you render and bill
To see your live wish currents to fulfill
Knowing or unknowing the fact a crime
That his talent circuit may get defunct
If he over loads to make you pleasant.

Hi, every one,  I am the captain  of all disease
A micro Guerilla war lord  you strive to finish
Within the next fifty years and with catch word campaign
“IT’S TIME" as part of World TB Day (Twenty Nineteen).

Armored with mycolic acid, we are aerobic
Aerial experts invading human pulmonic
System in colonies of MBT spectrum.

Throughout the ages  my  target is  Human beings
Of all regions from Horn of Africa,  my origin.
My task and designs are to impoverish men
Kings and his men were my targets in ancient aeons.
People used many names to call me and my legions
'White plague', 'Phthisis', 'romantic disease' were common
Crazy men wanted to die embracing consumption,
A mere ‘the poor melancholy angel' assumption
To gift on the sufferer with sensitivity height
And  to slowly die with the disease of the artist
Until Rene Laennec inventing the Stethoscope.

Men realized the lesions scope and my design and art
Doctor Koch discovered the cause and effect of my start
Men like the owner of Mammoth Cave,  Dr. Croghan,
Put the sufferers into the cave  like a pagan
In the hope of curing the disease and began
To treat with the constant temperature of cave air.

I caught the German physician, Hermann Brehmer,  
Who came to the Himalayas to cure and endure
So he proved and labeled me a curable disease.
He opened a sanatorium, a place for healing
On the mountains of Silesia to treat the ailing.

Peter Dettweiler, an inspired patient of Hermann
Started one at Hesse for the afflicted He and Her man.
Edward Trudeau too was influenced by the German
And opened one at Saranac Lake's confluence.

But still we are powerful and **** millions of people
Our success rate of terror is far higher than the steeple
Chase unleashed in the Holocaust and in Hiroshima
We catch millions in latency and adapt to change
In time and try to outsmart any adept campaign!

Yet you can approach the Creator who may have a design
To defunct and re-engineer us to change and combine
Our deadly power to release us from this cruel confine.
For me too is fed up with this turbo holocaust!

If your mind is a lake
And face the surface
I see a pure lotus flower
So pure and represent
The seat of the light
That well from the eternal source!

If your mind is a sea
And face the shore
I feel the gentle breeze
Kissing me with the depth of many oceans and nations behind.

If your mind is a universe
and face the sky
I sea the cool full moon
Pregnent with permanent
Love

Sparkling sweat beads dripping
Down his shining head and wetting
His shirt that's sticking to his fast ticking heart.
The stranger was a strange encounter
For the tea vendor at the counter  near 
 the Indian railway station.
He looked out if there were any rain
There wasn't any and couldn't restrain
"What makes thou to perspire so much?'
The man stood slowly gasping and ordered a tea
And bumped on the banana bunch
While turning to sit on a bench.

The vendor at the counter
repeated same question:
what made thou perspire so?

" O the mad rush
from station.
To retrieve the cash
bag"
He paused and said,
"my wife left at ***
End of filling the car
With rag tags
and bob tails".

She and her mother
Had  to catch the train
in time
And to be seated in fine
The only  scheduled train
half past seventeen.
I dropped them though
very relaxed.
As it were conceived
Twenty minutes ahead.
Was it not ideal with an aged
One to move unbothered?
"Then tell me why art thou sweating?"
Take the tea and be seated.
The curious vendor
came out of counter
Placed the tea on the bench
near him and sat beside
To listen to the stranger.

I waved good bye to my wife
then she asked for the cash bag
and sensed she left it at home.
No time to think
I jumped into car and shot off
Zooming in terrific zigzag
Through a flood of swelling traffic
Ten minutes remaining
My  car stopped with a crushing break
At home. I jumped and  grabbed the bag
from the side of the garage
Where she left it.
Put my hands to the shoulder tags
Perched on my two wheeler thanks
To God. I gushed out like a wind
dealing and wheeling
steering like youngsters
Rushed to the station yard
Dashed the scooter forward
Caught an auto rickshaw
The Surprised driver pull started
I  commanded to drop me
At the station entrance
Just three hundred feet distance
And threw a hundred rupee pittance
The train was hooting to commence
I did not see the couch number
Running  I asked a runner by
For B2, "to B or not to B you C"
First board the tail
and move forward inside the isle.
Without waiting for detail
I ran gasping like a runner
And in the other corner
Aghast my wife speechless
At my ghostly shape and beastly pants
Caught the costly bag from my  hands
And saw me dart the moving exit
Some one voiced me to sit
A while and rest.
The train left in disgust.
"Alas! You relax. At last
You are a winner! Right? Take tea"
The man curious though patted
And told to encourage him.

"No! Not. I am a loser!
A snake bite
Following a lightning strike!
I was gasping and sitting
On a chair on the platform
A man in black suite stood
before me, a snake with open hood
over me who ran like lightning Bolt.
"Show your entry pass",
his voice bold and told
"Or pay a fine hundred fold
The cost of a platform ticket"
I paid the bitter fine.
Is it not a snake bite behind  
A lightning strike?
Wiping out the sweat beads
with a piece of cloth he stretched his hand
For a cigarette!
The vendor helped the man to light it too
and watched his face glow up
Behind a whirling puff
Of smoke and a hot sip from tea cup.

What's that rare precious gift
To present the grace of human race?
The branch of man
the land of seeds
that sprout and spread
And bear fruits
Of love that precedes
the mellow flesh and seeds
The fellow who makes the feeds
The love that filled the hills
the thrill of silent scenes
The killer will to still the love
And will to live within the love.

What's that rare precious gift
To present the face of human race?

An open heart
A winding embrace
Sweet overflowing lift
And a scintillating kiss!
will it surpass the praise?
Or suffice to surprise
Her a rare precious gift!

The western sky sweeps
Darkness to back yards
The dawning east keeps
Designing with hues
Mornings greeting cards.
Nice to see the crews
Active in writing
Fresh magic haikus
Deep in creating
Textures and sinews
With unique mixing
Of color and lures
Interspersed musings
On honeycomb verse
Soft snowflake rhymings
Draught on fragrant wings
Beams of rainbow waves
Fuse sweetness and light
Deeds of Devine Inc
Wrought in suntan ink
Duty with delight
In morning twilight