"dhak" poems
Ek geet hotho par likhna
Yani saare geet hreeday ki
Meethi so choto par likhna...
Ek geet palko par likhna
Ek geet palko par likhna
Yani saare geet hreeday ki
Meethi si choto par likhna
Jaise -
Jaise chuv jata h koi
Kanta nange paow me
Jaise geet utar aate hai
Mere mann me gaao me
Jab v muuh dhak Leta hu
Teri julpho ke chhaon me
Kitne geet utar aate hai
Mere Mann me gaao me
Ki palke agar jhuki to jaise ×2
Dharti ke unnmad soo gye
Palke agar uthi to jaise
Bin bole sanwaad ** gye ×2
Jaise -
Jaise dhoop chunaria odhe
Aa baithi ** chhaon me
Jab bhi muh dhak Leta hu
Teri julpho ki chhaon me... ×2
Kitne geet utar aate h
Mere Mann me gao me... ×2
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 1:20 AM UTC
The leaves in winter, they all fall in place.
In endings hidden, embers of a new life.
Every once in a while an unknown girl
walks up close on a smoggy night;
And an awkward lank woos her with
half-withered roses by the south bank;
Going after severed kites,
landing now by the memory lane:
by the Thames, holding a palmful,
saying, this river's named after you:
she has a dimpled smile;
By the lakes, deep at night, when the moon
walks over the waves, dancing with the swans;
Where the Lee bends around the corner,
a red bus emerges out of the mist,
a hero on chilly nights of the early autumn,
when the dhak welcomes the Goddess home.
Teals, wobbling out of the pond, by
the temple of love, closed for ages now;
Crimson paint dripping from the evening
sky at the corners;
Every day when loving this way
seems like a picture painting away,
get lost walking by the Thames;
Whirling back like the descent from the Eye,
time and crackers light the sky,
on a Guy Fawkes night.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
He looked at her eyes
Shining like a midnight
He dwells in it...
With no escape
Her skin glowing
With silvery moon
His fingers itched to
Trace the crescent of his life.
Dhak...Dhak....
His heart drummed
With their Passion
One step closer
And their body
Danced with synchronization.
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
**
Trin Trin Trin Landline rings Trin TrinTrin.
Dhak Dhak Dhak Heat beats ring Dhak Dhak Dhak.
TingTong TingTong Doorbell rings TingTong TingTong.
Peep Peep Peep Motorcar horn rings Peep Peep.
Why not corruption bell rings to awake from corruption.
**
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
My heart beating alone in a Ghosttown, dhak dhak
The ringing phone in an empty house, ring ring
The dripping of water in an abandoned home, drip drop
The soft breeze rustling the curtains in an isolated place, swoosh.
My soul in a Ghosttown, cry.
Sylvia in her kitchen, cut.
Whitney in her bathtub, drug.
Lucy Jordan in her house, laugh.
My love in a Ghosttown
Hades in Tartarus
Hestia at the Hearth
Kitty Genovese in New York.
Adam and Eve in Eden.
Zeus and Hera at Olympus.
Marilyn and John in the White house.
A Ball, A Ballad, A Masquerade.
A Dove in Normandy.
An Olive branch in Kashmir.
A communist in America in 1940.
Dreamers & Idealists in existence.
Mahatma Gandhi in 1948.
John F. Kennedy in 1963.
Martin Luther King Jr. in 1968.
John Lennon in 1980.
Imagine
I have a dream that one day
we need men who can dream
where there is love, there if life.
A heart beating
beats of isolation.
A soul weeping
the tears of loneliness.
My Soul
My Love
My Heart
all in a Ghosttown.
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC