"shekhar" poems
Outside it was the same sight
Yellow light at a distance, infinite
Gazing as I sat tranced
Inbreathing an uncanny delight
Euphoric was the silence,
Quiet was the night,
And the skies proudly recounted
Tales of some morning exploits.
Shekhar Suman
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
Not that it comes not so oft,
Lifting my spirits in process aloft,
And takes me for a whirl, awhile
O’ thou lovely, shy, smile.
And then comes the ice,
In your stare so vice.
I shudder for a while, recoil
my spirits, as always, get mixed with soil.
-Shekhar Suman
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
whenever I get a comment or a like I always look at that person's profile and sometimes read truly poetic writes. Here is one such write
Shekhar Suman
It's shadows that I like
They walk with me, when there is light
And when darkness raps but loud and clear
I sit down and write, so that you can hear
thank you Shekhar
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 6:14 AM UTC
the distant, dull, the dreamy star,
of all the orbs in the sky so far,
plight it had–of the strangest kind,
reaping the foils of its curious mind
alone it was amidst the crowd,
gales of time whilst thundering loud,
youth was to come, its youth is to fade,
abashed of its shine, its fancy charade…
yet incomplete :(
shekhar suman.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Not long ago, the writer of these lines,
in the mad pride of intellectuality,
maintained “the power of brain”- denied that ever
a thought arose within the human brain
that can’t be wiped away by the gales of time.
And now, as if in mockery of that boast,
a picture, painted with blurry brushstrokes,
much alike the façade of Aphrodite,
bathing in the moonlight fall of silver sparkle,
and dancing to the hymns of angels,
have exhumed a fire lost in squalls of,
distance and clocks and unvoiced passion .
Resurrected the yearn to burn in the flames
of Proclivity to glance at the seraphic vista.
Flared and charred I feel myself ashen,
and shivering. My pen falls from stiff fingers,
and I stand at the fringe of the abyss,
with you at the bottom, and the sides
and at the start of the end and,
at the end of the start, it’s you all around
O’ I wish, somehow, I drowned.
Shekhar Suman
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC