I serched in many objects,

In many ways

to find peace.

I searched even in your heart.

wealth ! fame ! charm !

All fade or prove fragile.

Then I closed my eyes and

Keep my hand near my heart.

And talked with myself.

The spring came from within

A pure bliss !

I was a fool in deed

to keep distance from myself.

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It has been long,so long

since you depart.

I was afraid my teardrops

could tear me apart.

It like a desert,

only dryness and thorns.

I plodded the letters

yellowish and almost torn.

One day a storm came,

and went insane.

I could not help letting me off.

then came rain.

The wound healed somewhat,

I am running away far.

There comes rain to

adore my scar.

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How exquisite you are !

I get numb to think.

Your eyes-

unfathomable, unavoidable.

I am wretched,

lost in wilderness.

You engrossing beauty

appears as an oasis.

I know you are beyond

my withered fate.

I run behind the jack-o-lantrn.

Thats is my joy,my search,my work.

Dear,just reside in my memory:

more powerful, more careful and

wealthier than me.

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There comes a time 

when the tiny sapling will be a tree

ignoring all sighs,wounds and strom.

If you wish ,come and sit

under its shade.

There will be time when

we tide over the vortex.

There must be a time when

live to the fullest extent again.

Hold you fist tight and welcome 

the sobs and pains now.

Tomorrow we shall sing again.

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I have an enmity with rain,

She comes and play outside,

She laughts with the rustle of leaves.

I got afraid,angry.

Those splash reminds those days

when I drenched a lot.

And now I am robbed by the cruel hand of time.

O Time,O  Fate!

I adore the raindrops on the window pane,

And curse her loudly.

And curse all.

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And we walked a lot,

lots of laughter and fun.

Suddenly I stumbled and fell down.

I turned back

And there was none!

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There is no pain to see 

my words sinking into the abyss of time.

Should I pity myself !

O readers !pour your fresh raindrops..

And there was none.

How fool I was to pity myself !

Nay,I adore my words, wreath of lines.

the readers,the audience,the listeners -

you are so mingy over the years.

Buy I must not.

I will cry out and recite all my lines

to all the trees,ai...

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"Come in the shadow

And get lost.

Here lights glare my eyes

I can not see you clearly.

Colourful lights eclipse beauty.

Come in the shade.

We can make our bower here,

little may be."

And you depareted...

This is a tale you know and I should.

I can see the patches of dazzling lights

all over you.

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Its no pain

to be ignored,

to be unsung,

to be unread.

If you are poet and have true passion

for the melody of joys and sorrows

You know how to swallow them.

That why you are a poet

not a fiction writer.

I chew every sighs and winks well,

And digesting everyday.

And YOU ??

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The rain is falling,

the raindrops kissing my window pane.

I can see your blur face.

I can feel you footstep 

on the narrow lange.

The wet moon perhaps

waving hands,

Why my lovelorn heart is so fool !

dragging me on and on

towards the hidden quicksand.

I know but I step out,

The withered leaves and none.

Yet I came down,

just to find the shadow of solitude.

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Evening melts into the

furnace of my memory.

Who cares !

The birds  make their way

to their nest.

The darkness comes bare footed

And whispers into my ear.

It reminds me of the bygone days.

The loner lucifer waving hands.

The unkempt hair of breeze

touches my face.

Then comes tears,

The world is calm and tranquil.

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Ignorance! phew 

I digested it well ago.

All your embroidered emotions

don't catch me now-a-days.

Pain ! wow

I befriended it long ago.

We chat everyday.

Indifference ! hurrah

I celebrate it often.

Just never talk of love,

It tears me apart.

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Even after some unremovable

scar marks,

I still crave for your love.

The painful wound is no past

but love can heal.

So why hatred?

Dear Love,

come again in any form.

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The last withered cherry bud

 promised to return and bloom.

I adore the tree.

And coax her.

I believe it will come and

bloom to a smiling cherry blossom 

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You can grow a lot,

you can change some rules.

Or modify as per your taste.

But you can not exceed your own shadow.

Nature bounces back.

Its time to learn again the alphabets,

to bow and to surrender.

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Time is all,

dutiful,punctual,unforgiving and parsimonious.

travels a premeditated journey.

In between we watch tennis matches,

and controlled by the adrenaline.

Match ends,clappings do.

We grovel for own unkempt bed.

It was too predestined.

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The footpaths buzz with the sobs of

oppression and

dead letters of love.

Every lamppost knows it.

Just a man with a normal blood pressure

tends to forget.

Love,hunger,hatred and so ons

dime at a shabby hotel.

The lamppost and murky hoardings know all.

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Mirrors are lying,

be aware !

You are hiding ,

You are avoiding,

You are befooling yourself.

There are mirrors called love,care and empathy.

Look through them.

You can not escape from you.

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Today is the best time to keep silence.

And yesterday was the best time to keep silence.

I am sure tomorrow will be the best time to keep silence.

Its a deluxe habit,

A tricky formula invented long long ago.

Follow the rules and live with sophistication.

If you can not 

Then ask for a cyclone,

not for any soothing breeze.

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Ignore my halty words,

My pain tinged sorrow.

My words are too lucid...

too funny ....

I know.

Then you are ignoring

Your very own-

Love,

Pain,

Life,

Separation,

Society.

And a part of yours may be.

So, I have to agree its no poem at all,

at all.

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There comes a time,

when withered leaves and flowers

begin to rot after days of being unloved.

They rot over the weeks

and assimilate with the soil.

A tiny seed falls somehow.

Once in a morning,

a seedling peeps its out of the soil

and takes the kisses of Sun.

And promises to be a tree at all costs.

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I know all decorated lies,

And fashioned camouflage.

You are an ocean of lies

or an expertise of saleable emotions.

Its an ancient tale.

Every poet can feel.

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Once a mask came in my dream,

I tried to grasp it.

It moved fast out of my reach.

Suddenly it began to snicker.

It was so scary.

I felt something odd within me.

It came near me and whispered

"You are doing much better,

You need not wear me".

It vanished and I woke up.

My room was filled with masks.

I recognized each of the masks.

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When you have come to buy love

don't bargain.

Its handy,movable and at reasonable price.

Apart from some passionate concocted nights

some well formed kisses are free!

Threre are some extra packages

for memorble photo snaps.

Besides you will be given some

wonderful lonesliness to cherish.

Dont think twice.

What more can you expect !

If you can not pay 

Compensate...

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I find no reason not to cry,

not to break,

not to awake long,

not to miss you.

I pity the definitions.

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I am a wordsmith,

Thats all I know.

Your liking or disliking is yours.

Your indifference hardly pinch me.

I feel an affinity with words,

Words make me restless.

Thats the blessing to me.

I am no poet,shall never be.

I am a Wordsmith .

Like clouds I make collage of words.

numberless collage everyday.

I write to provide nutrients to my soul.

I write to sustain ,to...

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I made few vain attempts to 

make friendship with a river.

I told a lot everyday 

sitting on the bank.

I thought there would be 

little ripples to communicate.

The river was calm more than before.

One day I got down into the river

and drenched my whole body.

That day I woke up at midnight.

Getting down from bed I felt

my feet touching water.

A chill wind was blo...

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After the stormy night 

I opened my eyes.

A slant sunray was whispering in my ear.

The house was almost blown away.

I heard a faint twitter of a starling.

It had its home on the rig of my house.

I put my hand into my pocket

and found some  darkness, failures and losses.

I stood and went beneath the tree.

The starling was making its nest again.

I stood till the evening...

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After the party and lots of rollicking

I felt uneasy .

And some droplets of cold perspiration came

on my forehead.

I felt someone following me.

I turned back hastily.

I found nothing except my frail shadow.

Suddenly it grew larger and larger.

I could not move.

I cried for help to drag me out.

I just heard a cackle and felt a suffocation.

I woke up and found my body...

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The garish lights,

Artistic banners,

A milleu of intellects.

such well chosen melancholy music.

The costliest bouquets.

Dear society!

What more do you need

in your funeral?

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Erase the pencil mark from the

yellowish page of my heart.

You are fool as ever.

I can still read every lines,

every notch.

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Let us kiss the sunshine,

Lets adore the shy wind.

They know our story better than

You and me.

You and I were chosen to love,

to bask in the aroma.

How fooolish are we to break some eternal knot !

I feel your grin,your wit and wink.

But who cares,

I live within the moment,

Let us just accept and apart.

Then some tears may be.

But it hardly matters.

I am in so...

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Every time I broke up,

I seek your help Poetry.

You are my balm.

I took up my fragile pen,

an scribble.

I dont know if they are poetry or not.

Just they are my life.

I seek your help Poetry 

everytime,in every rainyday.

I dare not ask me the reason.

I am afraid if I reply something more 

than Poetry somehow.

I just need your help Poetry.

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How good our cosy sleep !

How good!

The burning smell does not bother

now-a-days.

The roomfreshners are doing their jobs.

ok,we need not heed their problems.

We just sleep.

Nightmares are our friends.

Dreams are dead letters.

Hush!We are sleeping.

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Its good to be goods,

In the invisible hands.

As if we are in a cheerful mood

to celebrate of being a puppet.

The concocted movement

all that forcible dance.

They can not restrain

they succumb.

I was labelled.

And adorably ostracized.

I hope you are celebrating

your anniversary of bondage.

So,champagne!

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Broken hearts practice the role

day after day.

Its an ordeal.

A metamorphosis or ecdysis.

A retribution or reward.

After a long spell of shower,

a wink.

They did their part well.

Have you heard the silent scream?

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The stony path

And dried leaves ahead.

I think to subjugate.

The Sun above

And a decaying hearth in me

keep whispering "move on,there's the gate"

Glimpse of love,the cosy lap of life

all are but a day dream.

The journey is the life

and the struggle is destiny.

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You have gone too far.

I am done and dusted dear.

Nope,I will move on.

Move on with a smile.

I owe nothing to you,

even a second.

Rain reminds me the days .

Yet I shed no teardrop.

Really I owe a lot to rains.

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The phoenix is dejected, may be.

The dreams are in sleep slumber.

The obstinate shadow pricks.

Alone I am in a shabby couch

turning over the pages of life.

I decided to wake up .

Lets gamble again.

I can not succumb to helplessness

Better to burn out day by day.

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Suppose I lied all,

All our smiles were fake.

All the vows you made

are nonexistent.

Suppose all our walks

were merely walks.

The bower we made

is a hoax.

Forget about me..

Can you console yourself ?

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Sick of your packaged life,

hatred ,cry and laughter.

We are selling same musty emotions,

in different colourful wrapper.

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I didn't write as they said,

directed or instructed.

Naturally I was outcasted.

I was not in a hyped review or

Concocted rostrum.

"Just gibberish" they said.

I didn't not mind.

Why should I ?

My words and emotions are

no saleable commodities.

I write for I have to write.

My joys within are my best reviews.

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As if numb with ache.

deep wound within.

Time snickers sitting somewhere.

I got down to the sea

with scars and wound.

The salty waves taught me

a lesson.

I started taming those wounds.

I make little banter with them.

I sleep better now-a-days,

Just a teardrop comes unknowingly.

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Whenever I awake in morning

And look through my weedy window,

Life seems to be spoilt prose.

I get down

And go to little garden.

I relish the smell of fresh air.

The scampering squirrel and

the twittering birds awake me twice.

I start humming.

Life seems to compose a poetry again.

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the drakness trickles

over the lawn.

A body rests on couch,

Mind roams like a fawn.

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Baffled by the spurious light,

I started embracing pure darkness.

I hear the whispers,

I hear the clappings.

I feel the pulse of this madding crowd.

I feel the mystery scripted within,

All colours are roaming naked

with lebels.

I am sinking in the unfathomable darkness,

There is no lie,no hoax no adulterated joy..

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I know the clappings you give

are none but a trick

A trick to stick to the hard and fast system

You are afraid to vomit or swallow properly

Yet you like suffering from irreparable digestion.

You adore to be remain a hungry mendicant

Your hands are itching

Your each and every vein carries

the blood of moral sycophant.

Your nerves parrot after the crazy milieu

You have ...

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In this flea market

fake emotions sometime turn us blind.

sometimes body is sold,

Sometimes mind.

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No battle at all,

No fight,

Just kissing the lonely sky

Like a tattered kite.

Life is now at the grace of time.

Who were we?

And who held the thread ?

Each and every kite falls one day,

making the flight sublime.

I know not

 is it the rule or merely a consolation ?

Life sometimes gets vengeful

Putting us into cage of desolation.

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Fast fading,fast fading,

Light and darkness mixed up in cocktail,

Masks jeer at face,

How can beauty hide under polished nail?

In the golden cage,

Souls feel suffocation,

Lets join the flea-market

Bask in the concocted distinction.

Fast fading,fast fading all the divine gifts.

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