Hymns of Humanity

Star Sight

Did you see the stars last night?
I could not,
Clouds had been truant,
and the sky overcast,
they had put an umbrella,
and hidden my stars,
I am a gazer who has eyes set,
every night on the canopy above,
for their sheer brilliance and light,
my eyes soothe as I venture my sight,
to get an inner glimpse of star light,
it stretches farthest,
and instead of tiring rests,
these clouds are my enemies,
they have been there for three days,
that is why I am frantic,
and asking you if you have seen my stars,
I would be relieved only when you tell me so,
that you sighted them well,
and found them smiling,
ringing festive bells.

Heather

Brocades of shimmering silk,
In ornate trays of sparklers,
In manner that was timorous,
she shone like a twinkler,
as she meandered through the gather,
as if minding even the feather,
she almost transformed the weather,
that was the power of heather,
As she pouted her lips,
her whites lightened the room as if camera flash,
she smiled in dimples,
that gorged her pink white cheeks,
her clear eyes,
went in for fleeting ,naughty peeks,
made men after her intensely in seek,
that was years ago,
when heather had her first outing,
now time had taken its toll,
and heather was rather,
after bearing life's full weather,
she is nothing but a story often told,
when buying vegetable,
everybody picks the fresh and ignores the old.

Fallen friend

Give me your hand,
I would place it at my bosom,
My bosom is warm,
and thudding with palpitation,
I am aghast and stunned,
breath coming short,
I am nervous,
with every moment getting more,
Can you now lend me your legs,
carry me to the doctor,
I am about to fall,
help me I cannot any longer hold it or stall,
hey !my friend,
can you lend,
and steeper a little bend,
I want to climb and lie down,
I think I am finished and mown,
Before I could do anything as a friend,
he had fallen,
as he could no longer stand.

Immobility

I had come from far,
traveled a million miles,
I was tired and fell down,
the bed was soft,
I lay there,
gazing at the vacant loft,
I lay there for hours,
not willing to move,
in fact I could not,
I had traveled a million miles,
and now not even an inch,
I thought with a wry smile.

Anger Control

Insane moments,
I had gone berserk,
My eyes raged,
and ear lobes turned red,
my stomach muscles tightened,
and knuckles ripened,
blood was rushing forth,
as if sea waves tossing ashore,
I was all cocked and alert,
I had after all,gone berserk,
I was all eager,
with a mind,
that was ready to shear,
I do not know what calmed it all,
now I am cool,
as if I was never angry before,
But one thing I have noted in my diary,
it is three words'do not get______',
I have decided to fill in blanks,
next time I do,
with the hope that another blank will not ever be withstood.

Ascent to Heaven or Heaven's Descent

They had measured on close counts,
Before they began his dismount,
All flowers and scents were left behind,
It was only mud that came to mind,
He was a log of wood that had no use,
They were about to consign him as refuse,
They had measured on close counts,
And now had finished his dismount,
They all glumly looked at the innards of earth,
Dug apart so as to be his home and hearth,
They lowered him with care,
Some cried and other shed tears,
Such care they had never shown,
When he was alive full blown,
They left him but he could not,
In years that followed he thought,
And all thoughts were about and their's,
But he lay still there,
Not able to do much,
While lower insects ate him as such,
Twenty yards under the surface,
The earth weighed on him like a mace,
He had volumes to carry,
Every moment without delay or tarry,
In peace he had the quiet,
Under the forceful mud of his burial site,
He was largely unattended,
Only heard anniversary footsteps,
When his thought subject came tending,
There was lot of din,
As one day woke abruptly in,
He could hear the rattling and banging of hammer,
His peace was disturbed and began to stammer,
It was furious and fast,
He presumed it could not be just his nest,
But also his neighbors from first to last,
It was familiar yes very much so,
All the sound and racket on the go,
It was regular and incessant,
As if it was rain rampant,
Yes, clouds up there from above,
Were pouring over his grave,
They sounded angry and irate,
And were determined to drown all gates,
He felt secure under mud,
And there suddenly was a seeping thud,
It was really bad and water had come in tones,
His grave was all definitely drowned,
Now the water had bossed over the earth,
Pressing it hard for the inner most berth,
It was invading the twenty yards,
And approaching him fast,
And he thought will the dead also meet the flood,
The seeping thud was on the first drop,
That fell on his stomach,
He churned as eating insects scurried,
Soon train followed thud after thud,
And then it was a volley of scuds,
His cavity was being filled,
And bones getting viscid and humid,
A coolness spread through rotten carrion,
And went on to turn into a bath for the skeleton,
It bathed him till it was just soaking,
Was it he who had ascended to heaven,
Or the heavens came pouring down to meet him even.

Life and Times of the Manila Folder

Manila folder,
Growing older,
Lying on table,
Watching other files,
Grow bolder,
It was earlier looked upon,
Now ignored,
As if it was dead,
After a bloody gore,
They had submerged in its custody,
A lot many papers and notes,
Carrying dates and events,
About people and of people,
Some body took a decision,
And others left them for future,
It needed for a full view,
Lot of sutures,
Perplexed and seeing its capacity,
They had simply affixed a label,
And left it at storage level,
Years went by in vain,
Lot others joined it in graveyard,
Not for short but pretty long,
Saying has it that every dog has its day,
It so happened that while the manila folder lay gathering dust,
One of the persons not decided upon with in the manila,
Had grown in stature and length,
Either through effort ,luck,relation or lust,
He had reached where he was,
He beckoned all signatures in the manila,
And sought his dues,
If it was not forthcoming,
Then he waved a thick stick,
All signatures rushed to look for manila,
They raised dust and dusted files for long,
Opportunist men got their way,
And having found manila,
Gave a full blooded bay,
As they chuckled in delight,
The 'big man' came around for another fight,
Now they were scared to no end,
And turned the pages of manila,
They frantically looked,
Where they had signed and not,
Where they did not they did,
And some places where they had,
Got it erased,
Manila was theirs,
So what if 'money' was his,
Finally manila was in demand,
And used and gored,
Like a happy whore,
Manila looked askance,
At the door to graveyard,
Where it had spent years in exile,
Before getting this 'exciting while',
Then to top it all,
The Manila had its final big ball,
The day came,
When the big man came to undo his last fall,
He held the Manila lovingly in his palms,
Which were wet and warm,
In anticipation of lot of money caused calm,
His greedy and beady eyes,
Warmed each curve of manila,
As manila coyly smiled unabashedly smiles vanilla,
The swarthy and mean big man,
Saw his words,
Understood them well,
Kept them digested in mind,
Looked disdainfully,
At frightened signatures,
And voila! Tossed the manila folder,
From where he stood,
Back in graveyard to grow older.

Play in Water

In the pipe of thoughts,
Something was left blocked,
It could not occur,
Long till the time clocked,
They shook and shoved,
What was stuck was thus,
Not budging it refused to behove,
It was as if motors had jammed,
And gears rankled,
It was a bundle of stray thoughts,
That were clamouring for link,
It was indeed a battle well fought,
Some sound came after a lot of exertion,
One of them had moved,
And in some shape it got proved,
Now another moved and laughed,
As if mocking the effort,
Belittling the poor bloke,
That was attempting the sort,
Let me help out by a fraction of an inch,
Perhaps that would suffice,
And get foundation edifice,
It beckoned its mates,
Though they were pretty late,
The thoughts moved by chemicals,
That they ate and consumed,
And moved with grudging concurrence,
To their preslated place,
As soon as the link clicked,
A blinding light too blinked,
The 'idea'was formed,
And flowed like water,
As if freed from dam,
It was the first real play in water,
Very painful though it was,
It did not at all matter.

May Flower of Dreams

Twilight sparkled defying its usual gravity,
Sun followed in full riot,
Blue yonder oozed ozone,
making for full soulful breaths,
The slumbering baby in cradle,
forgot about the feed,
as he enjoyed the cool breeze,
flowing everywhere and all along,
it was so good that he wanted to sleep on,
all those walking were on trot,
energy flowed and gushed,
spreading like an infectious dream,
the green and lush carpet,
and verdant forest were turing greener,
with every passing moment,
the flowers were in more than bloom,
not just smiling but laughing all along,
a riot of colors specked the green,
it looked as if all was silk and stin,
starred like those that hung above far beyond,
the sleeping baby was in deep dreams,
incomprehensible and distorted dreams,
which had no meaning that could be understood at all,
somewhere some how a may flower branch,
swayed in spring ego and ,
casted an unwanted shadow on cradle,
branch was not meaning bad,
it had the baby in sight,
and to render its fragrance it was fighting bad,
it was doing its job quite allright,
suddenly a wind shower turned tight,
and shook may flower branch to bitter plight,
branch lost its flowering to ground,
baby was covered in a flower shower abound,
it was then it woke up and cried,
looked around and saw spring,
afterall mayflower had been baby's flower for may,
it had brought the baby the spring,
who enjoying it stopped crying,
and began to sing.

Toy the Joy

It began with mind again,
Every word was heard and heard again,
It was the accumulation of honey,
That soothed like pacific depth,
As if a burning pyre was doused with plain cold water,
The peace aligned inner in a perfect gear,
From feeted central gravity to alpha, gamma and beta,
The ions moved around in magnetic field in smug aura,
All body parts ran and ran and were willing to do so,
It was as if the life had blossomed to youth,
The skin glowed and each body cell was eager to opine,
The protoplasm was splashing no longer supine,
Energy levels were astounding,
He felt healthy as if awoken from long sleep,
It was not shallow but very very deep,
Anybody who saw him,
Simply said that he was elated and more,
They all were wrong he was much and much more,
He was at peace with himself,
And no longer felt the need to fight himself,
Body was lifted off the ground,
And he wished for a flight path,
He looked around moving eyeballs rollercoaster like,
Looking for a soul and more so that he could ingratiate,
He had it all and was eager to distribute along,
After months of insistence his mother had concurred,
To give him the toy that everybody had,
Child's joy is a joy anyway,
Whatever little might be at stake,
He like father of man,
Recounts a man's very own story,
Our lives seek such moments of joy,
Whether we are man or boy,
Whether permanent or transient,
They are like energizers,
That preserves youth and life,
We get them and loose them,
And in the process age along,
Those immune from infection of joys,
Are neither men nor boys(perhaps God).

Wreathed Flowers

Sterilized trauma of grief,
Gathering in the core crust,
Layering to thickness that was about to explode,
The hands went limp,
The legs were shaken not ready to take step,
Grits and guts wrenched and stringed,
The abdominal muscles turned taut,
The pelvis froze as if struck in tar,
Cold perspiration rolled down the temple,
Oozing out of central pate,
The sting of body water cold,
Retold the inner tale quite open and bold,
System was down and out and going nowhere,
Blood had lost move and heat,
And was recurrently getting about this feat,
The emotions were many but feeling was one,
Refined, focused and stabbing deep,
Sterilized to core it pervaded it all,
The grief had turned to trauma,
And he was not participating,
It was a one act drama,
What had happened he knew not,
Nor could he move the mind to know,
He was in a drift less tow,
It was as if he was awaiting the death,
Waiting for them to come with fragrant wreaths,
His mind smiled though he could not,
In one corner of his brain a light flickered and he thought,
Now he knows none and hears none,
He cannot even see none,
But after death,
He probably would smell one,
Lying still he would be free as others get busy in disposing him off,
They would not even know how he relished the sweet smell,
Of wreathed flowers laid on him by known pell-mell.

Invaluable Diamonds

Moribund cerebrum was graying yet,
It had set and lost several bets,
It knew not what to do and think,
Yet it was not ready to sink,
It was breathing easy and down,
Finding short energy for a rebound,
All this while the being felt dead,
As if a vegetable which had been had,
Think master rankled its pockets for change,
But nothing came along,
It was dead broke for ideas,
Suddenly it had seen the thing on road,
With eyes that were half shut,
It got the energy it was looking for,
And made the eyes broad,
They focused on the road,
And found that this was what,
It had to goad,
Flashes went wild like laser beams,
Sparklers went berserk on their sulphur seams,
It was a treasure and not just pennies,
The ideas had come in a long time,
It would correct all losses and mistakes,
Of the past hurting now so much,
Make things and set past amends,
These were not simply ideas,
But invaluable diamonds.

Remove the trace

Brisk efforts in the dusk,
To close things under more husk,
To dither and spread,
News, information like a bad muse,
Who had also a lot of valves fused,
The main thread had to be lost,
No one should keep its track,
It should be made from hard to soft,
Reality had to be turned fiction,
They really had the ability for false depiction,
They said that some said he did,
Some ,though,had never taken this bid,
They said some came to them,
Some said they were aloof sitting all along,
They said help us spread,
Because we want him dead,
When some did not come along,
They invented and took their name,
They were spreading ink,
To hide the path of swim.

Recoil

Tremors raised in shakes,
Pores soaked in bathe,
It came in dug deep,
There was root,
Down below layers of soot,
The distance the wave had traveled,
Was enormous and now unraveled,
He was scared and down,
All gears strewn and thrown,
He had not anticipated,
And was not expecting to be expiated,
Mercy he sought,
As he had huge fears he fought,
It was as if day did not exist,
He could hardly subsist,
He repented and panted,
And learnt and ranted,
The lesson was good,
And for times it had withstood,
Never dig graves for others,
For they might push you in it,
Only on a very slight bother.

Mind on Spring Harp

Morning emerged out of night dark.
Shy sun began to show its face,
It streaked the night sky with daylight,
The dawn was striking and clear,
Blue azure sparkled in the spectacle of sunlight,
I left warmth of cozy bed to catch that sight,
Stretching limbs to get off sleep stupor,
My nostrils widened to heavenly fragrance,
It was spring time,
And everybody could feel its vapor,
Each leg movement was up and about,
As if it was springed all right,
Zest flowed abound,
And eyes searched far and beyond,
Wherever they were laid,
Colored canopy of blooms was in raid,
Red, blue, geen, yellow, pink and what not,
My little garden was witness to it all,
Blooms had been ripening and had now broken free,
They smiled as if coy and confident bride,
I ambled across to the green carpet,
And stopped at a riotous bloom,
Cool wind blew across,
And they all began to zoom,
This bloom was as if a search light,
Instilling delight and dispelling all gloom,
I was a late riser,
Many had awaken before me,
There was activity on the room,
And it was on the riotous bloom,
Little pale streaked honey bees were in flight,
Flying now and then landing right,
They were busy gathering nectar,
And possibly ready to ferry it home,
No! Was it a beginning of a new home?
No it was not; I saw it sharp and clear,
Developed broken wax cubicles lay in vantage,
Right there near the bloom,
Looking as if it had been a part of bee home,
And now was a little home stand alone,
There was a rebel mother bee,
Or my imagination was on a spring,
To make most of the spring,
These little bees had brought in their home,
They could not wait to get home,
Now here they worked,
And here they stored,
I watched it for a time,
Before it struck me real hard,
If little bees could use spring thus,
Why I could not,
I had a lesson indeed sharp,
And my mind was hooked to the spring harp.

Steadfast

Blue stone grovelled in mud,
wet viscid and and dirty mud,
no one knew where water poured in from,
nobody was there to stop it hence,
it had crushed the earth,
made it soft and humid,
it had drilled hole,
and widened it broad,
and now was eating sides,
loosening mud,
and making the muck,
this blue stone had loosened,
from the water attack,
and fell down,
with no jack,
from its earthly rack,
now water worked on mud,
and mud on stone,
god knows for many days,weeks and months,
the scene had remained the same,
a philosopher doing the round,
saw it every now and then,
and wondered when,
the stone will get bleached,
philosopher had to see his last,
and died his death,
the stone held the color fast.

Loss of Crown and Hat

Drone around a crown,
it was my work,
I had a message,
and wanted it in,
I had separated from my swarm,
fledgelling my little arms,
which were wings,
I had folded my stings,
as I was on a noble mission,
I had reached his majesty fast,
and was droning around his crown,
murmuring that it was approaching fast,
his majesty was in danger,
alone and unarmed,
and would be killed soon,
if he did not flee now to moon,
I had landed on the crown edge,
careful of his majesty's dignity and self,
but that was too far,
for my poor chords,
his majesty was busy,
in his smoking of the cigar,
he heard not a bit,
and I had no other place,
other than nose bridge to sit,
now so near I droned and groaned,
his majesty now aware,
turned peevish,
and rose angrily in swat,
I was killed,
but his majesty also soon lost,
his crown and even the hat.

Close the Tale

Jettison the flotsam,
hurt me hard,
strike me from behind,
and stab me back,
bring in a spear,
dig it in my heart,
till I do my soul escaping fart,
bring in a leather cane,
and make it my bane,
you have ill will,
and make my full bill,
you want to see me in pain,
and I do not wish to gain,
here is all I have,
take it and,
close the tale.

Worth a Little More than Dime

Brimming with youth,
with lips full,
eyes in bashful droop,
she was tall,
and eyes stared,
open and wide,
as she walked in an open hall,
she gyrated maddeningly,
and smiled beautifully,
teeth flashing,
as if lightening,
her contours made the show,
still more exciting,
as she shrugged her long mein,
of clear and flowing hairs,
she blew the wind,
contributing to airs,
her wide eyes twinkled,
as if hundreds of bells,
in abandon merry jingled,
she was not on the look out,
she was out for fun and frolic,
she had many drinking through her hand,
and had turned them alcoholic,
she frisked from place to place,
leaving the fire trail in entire space,
her fragrance was infectious,
it filled nostrils,
far and near,
men came rushing as she was here,
it is story of that happy her,
about whom everybody was murmur,
she knew she had years on her side,
which she wanted to enjoy besides,
she did not know that this was short,
and there was nobody with a wise exhort,
she went full pace in fun,
in the full open sun,
till she tanned,
on the full skin fully fanned,
often the tan had been washed,
but this time it was steadfast,
she worried on her dark,
and began to cry,
loosing her full hark,
she was past her prime,
and worth a little more than a dime.

Confused Sob

He had a thought and a vision,
a small desire and a dream,
only thing was that,
it did not appear what it seemed,
he thought it would be fun,
but what mother thought it was a gun,
if she thought that,
then he had to run,
he did just that,
but could not go far,
he was caught at the door ajar,
she hit him scathingly,
on cheeks straight,
it singed his skin red,
a pain travelled down his spine,
and a deep sob formed inside,
it gulped upwards for going out,
but got stuck half way through,
he was bleary and distressed,
chest paining real bad,
he was still confused,
between his dream,
and the stinging cheek chime.

Recouped Blood

Bullocking the earth,
he shed salt and water,
blood had lost them both,
he had burned blood,
with sinews blown swollen,
with effort,
and skin browned by sun,
his legs dug in uprooted earth,
he sowed seeds in with care,
fed them water hell of a lot,
as required and even bare,
he sat day and night,
like a overzealous guard,
like a word weaving bard,
writing poetry on a golden card,
slowly seeds grew shoots,
and began to crackle out,
like a tower from roots,
all green and flowing,
the windswept crop,
was indeed glowing,
he loaded them on,
and sold them for dozens a dime,
he bought from the dimes,
little he could,
apart from his hoarded crop,
he ate with satisfaction,
and had recouped,
his burnt blood,
not fully but a bit,
take it, that he was not happy,
but indeed very very sad.

End of Mouse

Greyed and greying,
from a few ounces,
to hefty pounds,
he had seen tunnels,
and alleyways abound,
he knew all nooks,
where he could still go,
he had run all corners,
that he had to go,
he was seen as a pest,
and behaved like one,
the moment he was sighted,
he was long gone,
he had temerity now,
with pounds on his side,
no cat thought him an easy bite,
they now took him in stride,
allowed him an allowance or two,
he had a field day feeding on,
as he trained his trained ones,
in more ways than one,
he would never forget the day,
he got stuck in a hole,
which he thought he could traverse,
taking a barge pole,
cats were still scared,
but man was not,
he was caught and killed,
even before he had fought.

Heed

In that trampled state,
with a breath,
that had long began to bate,
he had looked healthy,
and pretty all right,
but inside he was not a pretty sight,
all was dishevelled,
and burnt,
all the neural networks had fused,
and body chemicals moved randomly,
as if normal paths were refused,
his eyeballs rolled randomly,
seeing less wanted and more unwanted,
thoughts ran helter skelter,
piling on in a maze,
he looked allright to world,
hand/legs movements were still steady,
they did not know how much effort,
he made for it ready,
more was happening around him,
fortunately a quarter was captured,
and a good three fourth escaped,
had he captured the escaped,
he would have been rendered disabled,
enough not to get it at all,
this stuck him now fine and good,
develop yourself,
so that more escapes and less is captured,
he pulled along and catered to need,
he captures almost nothing and leaves most,
they are all praise for him now,
and say that he is good and pays heed.

Microbes' Revenge

Broccoli and blisteringly crisp chicken chips,
spruced with taut tomato slices damn fresh,
the onions were discs of pungent pleasure,
the sauces were all exceedingly well done,
I went overboard and got a fat stock in,
masticated and in I began to wait,
for the heavenly satisfaction to set in,
it was the platter that was to blame,
the microbes that were on picnicking atop,
got inside with broccoli et al,
they were unhappy that I had dared,
to have their habitat shared,
they worked their way deep inside,
before everything stolen was turned outside.

Affection Killed

That was pristine white,
innocent like dove,
it was neat and small,
but flowed in the ever land,
do not know where and when,
she had acquired its stocks,
she splurged it generously,
like a spendthrift spoiled,
mostly they loved her delirious,
for her affection that flowed,
was exactly like that,
when she came to me,
the villainous me,
tooked a tarred dagger,
and sunk it deep,
she screamed in pain,
for her love hitherto,
had never gone in vain,
then I raised the dagger far,
and sunk it deeper,
to shear her affection ajar,
the pure white,
looked bloodied and tar,
in my lonesome space and time,
I crankled all my dimes,
and got about the point,
I wailed in anguish,
why was I so brutal,
to get her pure love,
so cruelly extinguished.

Faded Frescoes

Broken,
shattered frescoes,
faded with time,
dimmed in memories,
of artists,
long buried and gone,
paints chipping in all places,
and edges shorn,
this is what time had to do,
and it had done,
they still recalled,
the days of toil,
spent in getting ideas honed,
mind ached as moved in,
the plotty fresco plan,
pencilled with tedium and care,
it was still rocking and bare,
paints ,palettes and brushes,
all came,
flowers,bark,rocks and fruits,
were milked to get required hues,
they worked hard on bristles,
so that filling in was not hustled,
wrists ached and eyes baked,
before frescoes had sprung to life,
time leaves none,
first it got the artists,
and now the art.

Secret Has Come Out
Astounding in depth,
the secret was well kept,
it was in a place afar,
where no one could go,
and leave it in tar,
they vowed,
they were its guardians,
and sworn custodians,
nobody knew abut it,
nor ever hoped to,
one fine day,
the secret,
having been in for long,
got tired,
and terribly bored,
it decided to take a walk,
and while on it met a stranger,
who spread the word,
that the secret had "come out".

Real Life Between Acts

Loins were afire,
they smouldered,
and searched,
for some parched humidity,
thirst was smothered,
in the well,
and loins were recoiled,
soon enough fire was up again,
doused soon enough,
but rose again,
doused,
rose,
doused,
rose,
doused,
rose,
no one knows,
how many times,
till it was finally done,
loin was still there,
shaking with the pelvic bone,
but it was waiting for its grave,
to be finally gone,
Is this life's only act,
think simply,
real life is led,
between any of such two acts.

Separation

Distanced from me,
she was aloof,
she had a grouse,
and a lot of refuse,
in her mind,
she had determined,
that she would not give up,
rather she would move out,
I was also not allright about,
and always had to shout,
when two do not hear,
with plugs in their ear,
distance has grown,
and relationship is mown,
it remains for two to decide,
how to tend and care,
what both had sown.

Human Smells

Mahogany table varnished bright,
polished wooden floor giving a neat sight,
the room was deserted,
but for that radiant person,
who looked sitting in that framed chair,
quite endearingly handsome,
the heap of flesh lay on floor,
bones collapsed much before,
the poor man had died,
and was scared with fright,
the long journey to here,
heaven or hell?,
had taken its toll,
he was lying listless on a marooned atoll,
the baritone of the radiant person,
resonnated in the vacuum of the room,
beckoned him to be alert and be groomed,
as if rays of energy wafted from his fingers,
man heard first signs of life humming and drumming in ears,
as if it was a sweet song delivered by a compact singer,
as man opened his eyes,
and adjusted his sight,
he blinked in new fright,
he could not focus,
at the intensity and charisma,
but felt a soothing inner delight,
he knew it was God,
or someone near him,
and bent in obeisance,
he heard the God speak,
beckoning to table top,
he saw four glass bowls atop,
God asked him now,
what he thought was there in bowls,
one had bloody red other had pale yellow ,
next one had some thing yellower,
and the last one a viscid white,
it all shook and shook as if liquids,
God whispered him to walk,
get to the table and smell the stalks,
he did one by one,
one was blood,other sweat the other urine,
and the last one semen,
How do you find them?,
acrid, nauseating and bad,
not one but all,
these are samples,
of the liquids,
totally taken from you,
they smell as bad as the body they are in,
all humans have them,
and smell as bad,
they get artificial perfumes,
and try to hide these behind,
just like they try to cover their misdeeds,
by more misdeeds scented afresh,
would you be interested,
now to get these back in your frame,
and play yet again the human game,
the man who had heard it all,
vigorously shook his head,
he refused and,
turned down the offer of God,
to be man once again.

Puss Filled Fester

Gruesome paint,
red,blue,orange and green,
that smelled horrible,
and burnt his skin,
those snazzy clothes,
colored for laughs,
with horrible style,
those bad lines,
which he mugged,
so he could muster laugh coughs,
those fellow actors,
who were imbeciles,
and a quarter nutted,
for heckles they ,
had him cruelly butted,
those dirt folks,
who paid pennies,
to watch this circus fun,
he often felt,
like taking a gun,
and ram it in his temple,
and die once not less but ample,
but stomach churned,
and horned,
for food and stuff,
he had to work,
as a jester,
even though his life was now,
just a puss filled fester.

Mutation Spectre

Three legs,
four eyes,
five hands,
and two heads,
they could not beleive,
he was there,
and born,
but they had to,
when they saw him ahem!,
what could they do,
look bewildered and flat,
and in shock do a full spat,
they walked around,
looked him full,
it was an average hour,
they spent with him,
in single or groups,
then they returned,
very seldom to come back,
to work their lives,
with two legs,
two eyes,
two hands
and a head.

Gestation

Gestation was in jest,
she was enamoured,
and fell down to rest,
he fell along,
laughed and cried,
she was waiting till he opened and pried,
they were both lazy,
and acted in rough and hazy,
now she was in gestation,
and quite happy,
of the belly that was growing zappy,
it was fun,
and she looked forward to next run.

Living Dead

I was lonely,
and in desolate environ,
it was inhospitable,
and a dark gloom,
there was no ray,
of human communication,
though humans abound,
they were all there,
everywhere and here and there,
all interested in own deeds,
giving others negative heed,
cruel as if they were,
they had me effectively barred,
all moved,
so I did,
it was all sad,
as if it was a city of living dead.

Jarring

Jarring to spine,
normally ears carry it just to brain,
here the rotten voice music grain,
had climbed down,
and chilled even the spine,
it was concert,
organized perhaps in concert,
to promote a dud,
not caring that,
not even single audience would be alive,
by the time it was over,
most would have fainted or dead.

My News on Front Page

Misquote me now,
I meant this,
you understood that,
and told them,
a mix of this and that,
two who heard you,
understood as they could,
they spread various variants,
of this and that,
by the time is was layer three,
hearers had added theirs,hers and his,
to originally floating this and that,
soon it gained space,
and ended up quite distorted,
on the front page.

Spider's Doom

Frisking in glee,
the cobweb swayed,
the wind that was crossing ventilators,
kissed the spider,
it did somersaults,
pole vaults and high/long jumps,
it was just aware of air,
and its soothing effect,
and ran amuck one cobweb corner to another,
it scarcely did realize,
that enemy had intruded the abandoned room,
and was thinking of inhabiting it clean,
first thing it would do was to use a broom,
and sound poor gleefull spider's doom.

Toddler to Boy

Ding Dong,
jingle,
twang,
Boom Boom,
Whooom,
Tring,
with a sting,
thud thud,
peeen,
he was keen,
just on these sounds,
they trained his brain,
alerted it full,
he knew it came from his toys,
it was how,
he grew from a toddler to boy.

Desert the Desert

Dunes draining just sands,
merciless sun playing waltz,
dry winds rasping body parts,
clothes were clasped,
to perspiring body,
and appeared as such,
tounge hung out with thirst,
which occurred every second at first,
shoe soles felt like popcorns,
roasting and flowering fast,
legs were drained of energy,
that was dwindling past,
stomach felt vacant,
as difficult terrain,
turned tougher,
he wondered why he had chosen the tour,
now rather he should take detour,
and desert the desert real fast.

His Own Stew

Monologue,
rambling,
in words,
sounds,
grunts,
shrieks,
and what not,
it was unknown,
what had hit,
and how,
and where,
he was here,
making sounds,
uttering incoherent words,
with suffused red,
in cheeks,
eyes,
shot dark,
the words,
flowed,
now with,
lot of sparks,
he was looking,
for someone,
when,
there was no one,
his words flew and flew,
and came down,
on him,
and now he had to,
of these,
make his own stew.

The Will of River

Meandering effortlessly,
It swayed as if wine of centuries,
Made the senses to waltz,
In the daytime,
The sunrays,
Shone like quartz,
In night,
It made sounds,
As if bells jingled,
In melody,
Penetrating the,
Silence of night,
It was dark serpentine,
As if long hairline,
Of a brunette,
Tied in an infinite bind,
It got any place it wanted,
And never had to fight,
It made shores of river,
And river of shores,
It went along with gay abandon,
Happily and contented,
Cruel guys came along,
Build a dam,
Even before she had consented.

Bell Toll

Toll,
Of bells,
In a shrill,
Pell mell,
Gale,
Of wind,
Naughty,
Swaying,
And ferocious,
Floated,
The toll,
For someone,
Real well,
Rain poured,
From soaked clouds,
Drenching all
Lightening flashed,
As if locating,
The poor soul,
Who was scared,
And waiting for hell,
For he knew,
If the bells did,
It was his toll.

The Final Push

Trembling with folded hands,
Eyes laden with a lot of guilt,
He saw his image,
Roll to dust,
Which he had taken years to build,
It had fallen so steadily,
That it was well nigh impossible,
To even up it any readily,
The events that had occurred,
Were involuntary,
And happened in sequence,
To leave a long inventory,
Now he was nailed,
And nobody was in sight,
Who could furnish his bail,
Accusing eyes penetrated,
Their vengeance liquefied him,
He knew it was all coming,
For it was all clearly,
In his eardrums humming,
He was helpless,
And over the bend,
He knew that the final push,
Will come before long.

Dropped Sails

Wind swept fast,
the boat steadied on sails,
they bloated like hell,
and the boat ran ahead,
so far so good,
what would happen,
when winds dropped dead,
and the boat came to halt,
those not ready,
are running fast,
and simply muddied and greedy.

Child Beauty

Chubby cheeks,
with red dumplings,
a chin having,
a deep adorable sink,
with wide blue eyes,
having a naughty twink,
his golden locks,
were soft,
and plenty,
his baby fragrance,
I used to inhale deep,
as in my lap,
he used to sleep,
its only when,
he stirred,
burped,
and crapped,
that his innocent helpless,
beauty,
in fact seeped.

Street Garbage

Street is a garbage of sort,
it is like use and throw,
walk it,run it and go away,
who thinks of staying here anyway,
only those that are hapless,
and hopeless,
others always walk out instead,
powers that are interested,
leave a lot by such streets,
they metal them,
build light posts,
shops,
malls,
offices,
gardens,
cafes,
hotels,
and what not,
in summary,
a lot of intents are developed,
people fill them and walk away,
also have you seen that lone trek,
up the picturesque hill,
very few intents crowd here,
and as yet street is there,
to walk your way,
and only to go away.

Inner Grease

Garden was green,
flowers pink,red,yellow,
blue,orange and black,
buds had cracked,
and young flowers preened,
the peaceful lake was picturesque,
with pristine tranquility,
soothing eyes and what not,
lush verdant carpet,
spread far and wide,
spreading a fragrance quite unique,
all appeared as if it was heaven,
it was man made,
and maintained,
and men were there,
so were women and kids,
from their first look alone,
one could say,
most were not with nature,
while nature was at peace,
most of men,
appeared troubled,
as if smeared with,
a lot of dirt,
and unerasable inner grease.

Relax

Starry portents twinkling in iris,
the rest was essential,
some potent tranquilizer,
was working on wrecked nerves,
in delirium one felt,
sweet honey run through nerves,
slowly to brain,
where it oozed,
as if rain,
wetting the parched,
and loosening,
the starched,
gradually links got severed,
and limbs knew not,
where one was,
and where the other,
only a blob,
rested on bedstead,
perhaps holding,
the pillow and post,
drowsiness was overpowering,
and enveloping,
the boat sank,
and sank deep,
only to bob back,
as if new.

Moon Boon

This is a large land,
of water and sand,
this earth,
it has so many,
vyinng for so little,
which is made available,
that games are played,
so that things are gained,
they cut,maim, and murder,
for a mere full larder,
its everywhere,
with everyone,
and if you are not part,
then you might depart,
that's what I wish now,
look at the moon,
so empty and inviting,
why can't you make it reachable,
and habitable,
make my moon,
I would go there,
as if I got a boon.

Loss of Confidence

Brimming with confidence,
his body sparked,
it oozed energy,
like he was a happy,
singing lark,
mindful of all that he had gained,
he was expecting rewards,
to rain,
he walked tough,
looked tougher,
and talked roughest,
others around him gazed,
in stunned wonder,
that why was he nowadays,
always beyond yonder,
when they came to know,
they began walking the same row,
soon you had several confident souls,
and when you have that,
scene is set,
for a tough conflict,
it happened as if appointed,
till everybody was limp,
loosing all confidence,
quite disappointed.

Mildew

Powdery mildew,
had dried,
time had flowed,
nobody had cleaned,
letting the fungus grow,
eyes were straight,
all over looked,
never an eyebrow was raised,
otherwise fungus,
would not have found,
the wet ground to grow,
not to talk about drying,
and letting dried powder,
stow.

My Words

Parroting me in monlogue,
my words had left deep lasting imapct,
they had sunk in like a titanic,
and were strewing wits in panic,
he was quite dishevelled,
body spoke for mind,
and both appeared in several binds,
I had spoken to set him free,
and not to let him climb unknown trees,
and be a prisoner,
like a harried pensioner,
he was mulling,
and churning my words,
and needed time,
to accept or reject,
I was all for the wait,
for it was futile,
to throw any weight,
he came to me later,
and the words he began to file,
made me aware,
that he was with me,
as reflected by his several smiles.

Death In the Moat

Moat had a boat,
as well a crocodile,
and another crocodile,
perhaps more of them were there,
the obese boat man could see only two,
he was feeling quite safe in the boat,
and wanted to go round the entire moat,
he dipped his thick wooden oar,
deep into water,
and with power,
changed the direction of the boat,
he had now another look of the moat,
the obese boat man now saw two more,
with same glistening eyes that the earlier two had,
boat man was not feeling safe,
with four around,
and wanted to quit the moat,
crocodiles were contemplating,perhaps,
and nearing with animal intent,
each was negotiating the offence line,
and narrowing the trap,
soon one reached under the boat,
and grasped the oar and pulled hard,
the boat and boat man shook violently,
the other animal turned the boat upside down,
and the other gripped the head of boat man,
who was looking to swim across,
fourth animal ripped one leg,
soon four were at it,
the boatman wanted to see the moat,
and he had seen it well,
before his gory death.

Wedge of Life

Living on the edge,
on a thin razor like edge,
I walked on one side,
of a deep yawning wedge,
wind blew hard in a roar,
sweeping my hairs,
my legs swerved,
as if inviting a fall,
I steadied,
only to be windswept again,
precipitatinggly and gingerly,
I walked along,
life is a similar wedge,
with you on one edge,
it is not known for sure,
when a wind might blow,
and take you deep in wedge,
quite dead.

Aftermath of Loss

Most of it is lost,
Are you searching it yet?
What if you do not get it?
Something would go amiss,
Loss is relative and temporal,
You experience it,
And pass over it,
And perhaps move to another,
Lurking round the corner,
Have you ever noticed?
What is associated with a loss?
A pang, a pain, a sigh and then,
A repair, amnesia and other opportunities,
So why even have that pang/pain at all,
If you could reduce them all to zod,
You probably may be a God.

Scavenger Life

Scarves of the scavenger kids,
Were drawn tighter,
As their tattered clothes,
Were vented to let cold in,
It was growing colder with each passing day,
And the day's heat of collecting rags,
Petered fast enough with onset of evening,
By the time night grew to a shivering height,
The kids had a tough time,
Huddling together in that impromptu orphanage,
Which they called home,
The kids drew tighter the scarves,
As they tried to sleep with injecting cold,
A bowl of hot soup and gruel for dinner,
Gave them little to fight fatigue and cold,
Each one of them wondered,
When would a break come their way?
Or they would go on like this,
Perhaps perish or
Grow up to be a battered old.

Cynosure and More

She looked with her eyes,
crystal clear blue eyes,
with transparency,
surpassing a peaceful lake,
her golden locks,
framed her chiselled looks,
her flawless skin,
had remarkable sheen,
her body contours,
charmed all,
she was really a ,
terrific cynosure,
she had a problem,
of choice,
out of attentions,
that got her,
she finally chose one,
then the other,
then another,
then another,
and more,
it is indecent,
but true,
that same set of people,
who called her cynosure,
now called her whore.

Life led in Mistakes

Mistaken in belief,
misguided in faith,
the man had set principles,
based on both,
he had led his life,
with hiccups abound,
only towards the end,
he turned around,
for a look back,
and found,
his mistakes,
however it was way too late,
he had already traversed,
most of his fate.

Free Spirit Dead

Free spirit shone like sapphire,
pure,clean and fragrant,
other spirits played,
along competing,
mudslinging,
merrily,
Dirt hung over all spirits,
after the play ended,
they looked now,
here and there,
and saw,
that all,
were dead.

Child Insistence

Toy in the shape,
of a figurine,

Boy saw it,
and began to whine,

he had seen possibilities,
of frolic and fun,

he began insistence,
full throttle and gun,

he had an agenda,
different from parents,

knowing that,
he deepened his laments,

scared now for sure,
both became full aware,

that they had to quieten the guy,
so they simply bought the toy ware.

Frisky Mind

Blissfully sneaked into zeros,
the mind was playing zero sum games,
permutations and combinations whirled in maze,
calculating gain was tough,
scared stiff of the loss,
mind began seeing loss,
where it was to gain,
it was so over worked,
that it did not feel that it worked,
working had becme a habit,
as if it was a carefree frisking rabbit,
rabbit collapsed of exhaustion,
and loss was immense,
zero sum game was lost,
for some time,
when it got back on track,
now the brain looked back,
saw the futility,
and overall loss,
whenever it went untoward fast,
it preferred to close shop,
and hit the sack.

Coach Man

Rein me in,
a hard leather pull in,
would help,
restrain me full,
whenever direction is astray,
to have a coach man,
to the coach,
you are horsing,
very few coaches have,
that luck,
that you are there is luck,
but relax the rein,
all the way,
untill my mein,
when I am allright,
and giving a true honest fight.

Bitter Words

Tossed in the air,
the words hung tough,
they would not budge,
as if set by unseen forces,
the forces that did not want,
them to climb down,
and reach ears,
he who had spoken,
was stunned,
he was still unheard of,
hours after being spoken,
speaker sought mercy,
that let continuation be heard,
that he was restrained,
but forces that be,
did not yield,
they had a fair game at hand,
their job was to hold and restrain,
they did just that,
did not allow words,
that were bitter,
and could have hurt,
and shot them flat.

Partridge Space

Two plain partridges,
Scared and confident,
Scared like they always used to be,
Confident like never before,
Urban partridges,
Plain, bland and shy birds,
Who dwelled on branches,
Corners near and around our homes,
Partridges who flew away,
On approach of even human shadow,
A pair of such partridges couple,
Had nested outside my door,
Strangely now they saw me,
Perhaps even made an eye contact,
But did not even show a flutter,
Not to talk of flight,
They jostled necks in jitters,
But stood their seats,
Their blood eyes darted,
But did not seek path of flight,
On a careful look,
I saw that female was laden with eggs,
She was cosy and warm,
And the hubby snuggled along,
On such an occasion,
They were seeking space in locality,
From their human cousins.

Truth

Speak Truth,
See Truth,
Hear Truth,
Do the truth,
What about half,
Or various shades of truth,
Don't SSH or D,
Because its all false.

Rebirth of Adages

Old adages,
Growing older with ages,
Wrapped inside,
Torn books,
And periodicals,
A dislike grown out of over their use,
And failures after their use,
And their newness in old times,
Had bundled into hatred,
Adage repositories,
Were thrown in attics that be,
And remained there for untold years,
Curiosity unburied them now,
Discovery was stunning,
And shaking,
Adages came waking,
Each word was born anew,
And had a wonderful meaning,
More importantly they were ancient wisdom,
We must learn lessons from the past,
Our own adages,
Must be understood now and here,
And not buried,
For "them" to read years later "there".

Banned Achievers

Life is lonely at top,
Achievers cannot be sighted at bus stops,
It is hard to meet them,
Or get them to autograph,
Is it a nature's law,
That keeps them thus,
That they had had enough,
And that they should leave space,
For common folks to live,
Without much rough.

Full Life

Days rolled on,
I could not track seconds,
Minutes I was barely aware of,
Hours I had perceptibly noticed,
And days rolled on,
Days rolled on into weeks/months,
Months also had to roll,
They did so into years,
By the time I finished one year,
And got on to the next,
I had forgotten most of the past,
And remembered it vague,
Like a film roll,
That had lost silver,
And was dull and bright only in patches,
Stumbling and strutting years rolled on,
I had not yet fallen,
I had a century,
perhaps more,
perhaps less,
life was a fixed time travel,
and an experiment to hilt,
In this life it is not possible,
That I could get it to unravel full.

Two types of Crying

Onion made me cry,
As I began to fry,
Events make me cry,
As they begin to fry.

Mare

Tresses can caress,
Hers did,
While I lifted her lids,
Her wide eyes lit,
Like happy torches,
Her body pores ached,
For a little more,
She was energy,
And could go on,
For as long as one wished,
She was now here,
And now there,
She was the best I ever had,
Of well bred mares.

Back to City

Self pity,
Right in the middle of,
A populous city,
Crying tears of anguish,
That had gnawed deep in,
By years spent in sin,
Exasperated he said,
He was acquitted,
And had not done one misdeed,
It was the city,
That he had to heed,
It flowed like flood waters,
And made him a rafter,
He was after all hapless,
Puny human being,
Who everybody was seeing,
As he was everybody else,
Otherwise he would not have fallen false,
It is them,
At the helm,
And not he,
For all that and more,
Self pity was gone,
And he was back to city,
Once more.

Evergreen

Beige and peach,
Green and azure,
Mellow yellow,
Wise brown,
Adorned as if crown,
That man was colors,
They spoke what he was,
And what he was not,
What he had lost,
And what he had got,
And in the last,
He had not let,
Any of them fade,
With age or experience,
And they all said,
He was evergreen.

Hunting Game

Hunter ran,
Panting,
After the prey,
It was swifter,
And ahead,
Hunter ran faster,
And lessened the distance,
Inch by inch,
Prey had the fear,
To egg it on,
And it now went,
Headlong,
In the flee,
Once again gaining ground,
Hunter had the equipment,
To weigh him down,
He also had aggression,
That sapped energies,
And deepened frown,
Now they were nearing habitat,
And the prey knew the familiar,
With very alert ears,
There was silence,
The hunter stopped,
And took the aim,
And fired a bullet shot,
The prey was dead and dropped,
Just outside his home the prey was had,
Hunter picked it and walked back,
On the way he way laid,
And had to run like prey,
He too ran,
Till he could or can,
Just outside his house,
He was shot,
And dead he dropped,
Even with so many dead,
The hunting game goes on and on real bad.

Another Day

Hopping into the mist,
Which was growing colder,
With each dwindling dusk sunray,
I was hurtling into mysterious night dark,
Quite despondent and hapless,
By the lurid events of the day,
I was held afloat,
By a dozing nightingale on a twig,
That still harked,
Do not worry,
Tomorrow will be another day.

Pessimism of an Optimist

Give me hope,
Show me all that is possible,
Let me fly and soar,
But nudge me hard,
Like the famous bard,
Every now and then,
And show me as well,
All that which can't be done.

Vain Glory

In vain,
The entire body had taut veins,
For vain glory,
Brought immense pressures,
To cut them down to size,
One looked for a good thresher.

Victory of the Vanquished

Sangfroid vacuum,
Striking terror in craven hearts,
An eerie quiet portentous of ominous,
Sudden resplendent flash of blades,
And blood gore in flood,
Exploding shots in blinding blaze,
Cries,shouts and grief,
Dead and half so,
There was gain,
Behind all the pain,
One side fled,
After they were entirely bled,
A patch of land,
Was perhaps gained,
Some wrong was done right,
Behind all this strife,
One chieftain derided other,
Rode on popular wave,
Till the time came,
For those who had fled,
To return back and rave,
The same way all over,
Till they had the land or right,
Circle was vicious,
Vanquished were victorious,
And feeling damn glorious.

Mystic Journey

Red and yellow,
Sunny and sharp,
Garish to eyes,
It left a startling mark,
Beyond was pitch dark,
As the irritating music,
Wafted in the background,
There was strange incense,
of rose perfume and burnt plastic,
He expected all to focus,
On him,
In a deep séance,
With all of these jutting out,
Twelve expectant minds sat there,
He began and so smoothly,
That no one noticed,
He invited them in his eyes,
They looked deep and pored deeper,
They heard his voice,
It embraced them soft,
They were lost in warmth of words,
The background and music,
Was all lost,
And so was irking music,
All that was left,
Were his pregnant words,
With stillborn meanings,
As they worked hard,
To understand this mystic bard,
He had already taken them on journey,
From which they hardly ever hoped to return.

Brain Train

Distressing stress,
More buttressed,
By wily needling gas,
The cavity was in spin,
It was after all,
Only a bin,
The CPU was brain,
And it had to train,
Even though it was housed,
Away and in a smaller tin,
It had connections,
Through nerves,
To the main body bin,
They all jingled,
And cracked,
Making sounds,
Not in one but abound,
Neck chanelled,
The stress,
And ached like bad,
The head was swirling,
The stress growing,
While brain was hyper active,
Body was weakening,
And collapsing,
It came to rest and sat down,
Motionless and quiet,
It looked like dead,
It stayed there like that,
For time that it could not time,
Heat turned cold,
The man grew old,
The CPU had a new situation,
To which it was exposed,
It had learned from experiment,
And was back to working regimen.

Growing Imperative

Growing is a need,
it was involuntary thus far,
all of a sudden everything changed,
and it all came with an impact,
and the pressure was great,
forces that were,
told in clear words,
grow or be dead,
and the time was really bad,
that is why,
growing is a need now,
they extended me full,
as I was here,
exerting every push and pull,
I was stretched thin,
and feared rupture,
center to rim,
thickening,elonagting,
widening,becoming taller,
are all needs,
because they are part of growing,
which is the imperative need,
grow ,grow and grow,
from toe to eyebrow,
they have not promised for nothing,
the day you got tired and said,
grown I have and to full I have,
they will get you dead.

Present to Future

Future is far,
present here,
the twain meet,
somewhere there,
you have to walk,
trot,gallop and hurry,
before you get buried.

Mosquito Effort and Fate

It was tropical night,
hot humid and wet,
They were all here,
buzzing now here now there,
they had a method,
by which they sucked blood,
they would go in a flight,
path of which was out of human sight,
they would fly against miscible background,
now straight and now round,
they would land carefully on the unwary,
behind ears lobes ,on the neck,
arm elbows and toes,
all I could not understand,
why they made an intense buzzing sound,
just before landing down,
perhaps it was their war cry,
and they were challenging human victim ,
that we can take you on,
though all landing strips were out of reach,
of a crushing swat,
and that probably made for their screech and voice,
once settled they would sink in probe,
and suck in belly,
human blood,
now that human was had,
the mosquito was more than glad,
it would free itself and fly to incubate,
but I have not seen any creature,
that takes so much risk,
and gets killed often,
because of the thing they just ate.

Shocked Heart

Tremor in my heart,
I am scared it may fail,
it is something I had not expected,
it was a windfall,
from where it came,
thinking about it,
my mind goes lame,
it is now that I have to collect,
splattered wits,
each one bit by bit,
put them back,
to get my heart back on rack.

Most Trivial Purpose

Masticated gel honed fine,
it was human shit chewed by a swine,
pig revelled in the odor and taste,
which most thought was a waste,
each thing has its purpose,
whether its hidden or exposed.

Peace to Hooligan

Cantankerous and hooligan,
his spirits were raging,
he was shouting and honking,
like a man gone amuck,
it was a sight,
and he was a fright,
he could have taken anything on anyone,
thats why they watched from afar-everyone,
suddenly eruption faded like a balloon burst,
he had sighted the policemen walking in first.

Hive

Stirring the hornet's nest,
he came right underneath,
irritated hornets,
normally fly upwards,
this time,
they took a downward dive,
he was swollen and trite,
and resolved,
never to touch a hive.

Mind

My mind is a creature,
a very fine one at that,
it is equipped to the hilt,
and you can call it well built,
it is the same organ,
with which at birth I began,
it has grown,
with time,
and can do poem and rhyme,
apart from others things,
which it does with rare sting,
I am waiting for signs,
when it would resign,
the day is far,
though not so far,
when this closed box,
will have its final sock,
open up,
and merge with ethereal all ends up.

Rum Party

Man crowed,
his exploits,
in words,
that were bloated,
others were confused,
and simply floated,
he was infectious,
and passed it on,
to the next,
and rumbustious,
rum party,
went on.

Baby Soft

Cuddly soft and so cute,
the baby cheeks were ruddy,
with out grown breaths,
I was rubbing mine against his,
I had a stubble growth,
and it was stinging fast,
baby had reasons to cry,
but it knew it was mine,
it clutched me more,
with undefined emotions,
did not attempt,
to open and pry.

Shunned Jukebox

That jukebox,
was in shock,
all it was playing,
was not going anywhere,
it was returning back,
people were doing all,
but hearing it,
box had it and was very angry,
it began rewinding and all,
people were still busy elsewhere,
the music played back,
people were hitting the sack,
juke box was now about to crack,
it covulsed and exploded,
now everybody heard,
got up and looked amazed.

Death of a Can

Canister of muck,
Do not know whether it was ,
consumed Pepsi or Coke,
dribbled afloat in that floatsam,
it had no use and future,
if it had any life,
it was smothered by the human,
who had used it last,
Can had fond memories,
of getting bright clothes,
of print and logo,
and wound up into space,
Space which was filled,
so lovingly with that bubbly shining liquid,
at that point it even carried a price,
with care it was transported long,
and had many days in chosen freezers,
before turn came and it became,
object of that man's long,
man paid the dough in exchange,
lovingly held it in hand,
caressed it and,
enjoyed each sip,
at the end ,
all he did,
was rape and rip,
he had taken the brew,
and rest with all his might,
he threw,
now can lay there rotting and duped,
it was lifeless,
and now worse than dead.

Faded Memory

Remembering you at last,
the memory had faded,
your image was well nigh jaded,
I cursed my brain,
racking each grain,
slowly you emerged,
as if sunk titanic,
had risen again,
the rust layers fell,
you shone bright like moon,
each feature handsome aquiline,
suddenly amenesia clouds gathered,
I was raided by many issues,
you were enveloped,
and your memory was lost,
before it could even develop.

Price Barrier

Charade of jewels,
shiny, bright and expensive,
God had given them to us,
in some form and shape,
we had gone the farthling,
measured the tape,
turned them into things,
good enough to gape,
now for this labor,
we owned it all,
and placed a price,
God was forgotten,
and so was his part,
now we had the full attention,
on deriving the price,
with full heart,
those who could not pay,
were denied the God,
had nothing to say,
and simply had to cud the cod.

Quagmire Ponds

Mere mire and quagmire,
not mere but more,
now it had turned dire,
I was splattered in face,
two particles,
came and plastered on cheeks,
they smelled and were crow black,
I was trying hard to get them off,
somebody in the while,
pushed me hard,
I fell deep and good,
in the mire pond,
that nearby stood,
now it was dire,
I was gasping for breath,
somebody had pulled it on me,
by fraud and stealth,
watch out for such pushers,
they are abound,
mostly they are found,
doing quagmire rounds,
its not that they have not been inside,
you would be surprised to know,
that they live in such quagmire ponds,
and come out for victims doing rounds.

Life and Death

Maggot wriggled,
in the dead carcass,
it lived from the dead,
but did he know,
that the dead,
that he was living upon,
had died from the acts of alive ones.

Guided Track

Myriad of directions,
from the point I stand on,
nobody to guide me thereupon,
a hapless me stands,
and moves a bit,
before I retrace,
and get back the origin hit,
my moves are slow,
my time is running out,
I know I have to move about,
who will help and know,
the direction in I which I bow,
come to me and hold my hand,
lets go together,
around the next bend,
I would have preferred,
a man to whom everybody referred,
who had seen it all,
gone and played the distance ball,
and returned back,
so that he could take me on guided track.

Enlightened Mile

Manifested intelligence spoke,
abound and abound,
the words gushed like stream,
thoughts poured like in dreams,
make me wiser,
said the listener,
I want to hear more and more,
Whatever I have heard,
had gone inside,
and tore my established mores,
tell me more,
I am parched,
I can soak,
all you ever spoke,
the wise spoke and spoke,
and in the end,
did only a little smile,
and whispered,
Good that you have heard it all,
better that you have understood,
best would be if you could practice a bit,
even if a little bit,
I would consider,
that you gone farther than before,
and covered a full mile.

End of Snow Fall

White icicles,
giggled,
sun was sad,
and feeling very bad,
clouds were happy and gay,
spreading their canopy,
from bay to bay,
people were stricken white,
playing with the snow
with unhidden full delight,
the hill was delirious and ecstatic both,
as it had got a brand new white cloth,
kids bundled up snow,
as they ran on each other's tow,
they let the free throw,
as far as it would go,
and got up from the fall,
as they faced the next snow ball,
the old felt numb,
but were happy,
that cold made their diseases very dumb,
slowly sun emerged out of blue mood,
it raised its face,
out of that mighty hood,
that ended the general ball,
snow lifted ending the snow fall.

Object or Abject

Smiling so very sweetly,
with dentures,
specifically shined,
for the occassion,
he had perfect attire,
and grooming,
his manners impeccable,
and language carefully picked,
not an expression was out of place,
his facial and hand muscles,
as were only visible,
did perfect synchronization,
with his object,
With nothing to object,
I was carried along by that subject,
I smiled and returned his pleasantries,
and in bonus gave him that he wanted,
on the next when we did meet,
he did not even as much greet,
he failed in recognition,
as if I were an apparition,
it was before long,
that I saw this subject going strong,
as he had done with me earlier on,
now for another aim and object,
I was in quandry,
unable to judge mine as well his plight,
I was the victim,
but was he with OBJECT or simply very abject.

Youth Brigands

Marauding youth plundered,
briskly they moved eyes,thoughts and limbs,
from plot to plot,
they were keen only for kill,
doing such deeds,
they would be capable,
of leaving behind a good will,
the dream was distant,
but wherewithals instant,
they applied them really to full,
marauding youth plundered,
old and young alike,
they left a trail,
of crying,wailing and cheated,
but they never retreated,
never halted or even pulled,
their youth brigand,
ran full throttle,
and in the night,
sat holding choicest bottles,
they were no longer youths,
and had established,
their own plush booths,
now they slowed down,
sat in sitting rooms,
nipping cigars wearing evening gowns,
at nights they did not prowl,
and let their expensive pet dogs growl,
at newer youth brigades,
who had now taken over the night prowl.

Wailing Tale

wailing shrieks,
of the old and sick,
yawning sores,
as they moved,
as if cruel cuts,
bleary eyes,
which could not see,
even things by the sides,
as they moved limbs,
the molten carrion,
moved the flaky bones,
thinned blood,
no longer withstood,
it was like a fading gel,
which skin barely held,
pain,growth,exhaustion and tears,
now made their years,
only one steel rod,
running undulating through their bodies,
held them on,
it was spirit,
fed by years of experience,
and thoughts of HIS essence,
they ever wondered,
when would all this be shed,
and they would begin life anew thence.

Exodus

Browning and frowning,
in the heated sun,
he made for the exit,
he had enough,
of the rough,
he had lost sweat,
burned blood,
but stood,
now he could not,
why after all,
he opted for the fall,
did the bullock,
refused to go up the hillock,
or the sickle,
did not cut in a tickle,
nothing of the above was true,
bullock was an animal,
which did as bade,
not a sucking shrew,
sickle was iron and sharp,
and still it did the cut in harp,
sun was as usual,
but his neighbours under it were not,
they had turned away from fields,
and began looking for equity yields,
there was an exodus,
to cities,
he was lonesome,
and felt like fool,
working hours and earning dime,
whereas they made thousand in a rhyme.

Epilogue of Innocence

They were three or four together,
they were laughing and guffawing,
they had fingers raised,
towards an unaware soul,
who was naturally crouched,
in a dark corner,
as you heard them discuss,
in loud and proud ruckus,
their words were with their fingers,
pointed and about that soul,
How straight he is?
Said,one,
How innocent he is,
said,another
How sensitive he is?
said,the third,
poor soul was so far away,
that he was not privy,
to this discussion savvy,
he was in fact none of all that,
they had said in fast flat,
we do not know for sure,
but it appeared,
that he was their target,
who will not find a cure,
they were preparing a prologue,
and convince him with their above dialogue,
so that they could palm him for good,
and bring about the manipulative epilogue.

An Advising Senior

A thief was advising another,
Are you going to steal,
Please do not,
It is very bad,
you are still a lad,
if you,instead, worked hard,
you would be more glad,
lad was all ears,
he had still years,
he said let it be so,
I will try my luck tomorrow,
today let it all go,
when tomorrow came,
and the young lad was doing his rounds,
he saw police patrol,
and some caught hands,
his senior was sitting right there,
waiting for his prison stand.

Game out of Tale of Bubble

Some of them had noted for long,
bubble afflictions,
they had seen the reasons and symptoms,
they proclaimed they were peacekeepers,
to humanity,
and wanted everybody,
to act with equaninimity,
so each time he had his own bubble,
which was unmanageable and sore,
he went ahead to search,
for bubble afflicted others,
and pretended to give them a sharp probing bore,
ostensibly to burst their bubble,
and free them of affliction,
In the process he let his own be as it was,
and had earned more,
and had grown to such a bubble,
that nobody dared to look at it,
not to talk about reducing it to shambles.

Tale of a Bubble

This tale is of a bubble,
I do not if it is soda fizz,
each time I succeed,
in face of others,
and gain material,
Chemical reaction runs amuck,
and the bubble swells,
it fills my body cavity,
and makes me act like mad,
I remain abnormal for days to come,
till I suffer my first setback,
then I feel as if the bubble was burst,
but in my vicinity,
I notice another getting afloat,
he begins behaving,
as if under influence of bubble,
it is contagious and widespread,
this bubble seems to bother,
me as well as others,
though some of us claim,
that their bubbles do not maim,
but in secret moments,
I have seen them naked,
they shout and keep the scene on rout,
their pride drips from each sight,
proving that the bubble did bite.

Proud Lord

That lone tree,
king of vegetation,
in a bald sparse,
spread of a plain,
as if it lorded,
the full and total lot,
spread was green,
but exposed,
to sun rays,
if heat became more,
the green turned,
greying rot,
emanating,
an unfriendly smell,
as a traveller,
I could tell,
now I was tired,
as I had no tires,
but on barefoot,
I was from far,
sighting the proud lord,
it was still flushed green,
from lack of competition,
and a lot of ground to feed,
I scurried faster for shade,
I was sure I will not be refused,
But the lord had his ways,
it had root sinews,
swollen out of ground,
everywhere,
as if very proud,
It made even sitting stable,
under it so difficult,
then it had its own clan,
of flattering bufoons,
mainly birds of prey,
that shat and swooped down,
on visitors,
jerking branches in violence,
and showering all that,
which was not wanted,
strangely while the lord,
danced to the plain winds,
underneath it was an uncouth wet,
it smelled and made you sweat,
Now that I was under it,
I ran hard out of there,
feeling that simple,unassuming and humble,
plain ground was more fit.

Nightmare Factory

Gory frames run in sequence in my dreams,
they are contorted and very strange,
seldom do I sight the figurines,
for sure to keep them forever,
they slither like the things they do,
even the acts terrify me and run away,
perhaps nightmares are all alike,
all elements are ephemeral,
and experience sudden death,
perhaps it is my own mind,
that has ran pretty hard amuck,
it is looking to scare me to hell,
it generates images and guys,
the sale is made before I could even buy,
I get up screaming in muffled trembles,
sweat streaming on my body ravines,
I am not alive,
till I get the cool room gust,
I collapse back in consternation,
my body is asleep,
my mind is not,
it conjures new ones now,
with new found concentration.

Another on Extremes

Grisly grime,
crystal clear,
myopic blur,
eagle sighted,
knived butter,
clanking tungsten,
neighbourhood,
light years away galaxy,
plush opulence,
starving depravity,
sweet honey,
bitter like salt,
fatal like cobra venom,
life giving like nectar,
dense amazon forest,
bald prairee plains,
men straight,
men crooked,
grudge,
nod,
budge,
still,
infinite,
countable,
and i have counted only a few.

Croissant, Cream and Coffee

Croissant,
Was crisp,
And honeyed,
A little sugar,
Kissed it,
The coffee,
That went with it,
Foamed with cream,
It was bourbon,
For sure,
A dash of Irish,
Made it all go,
Everything hopped inside,
And melted,
A sated morning began,
And so was the long day,
At the end of which,
I had to trip long,
And through dense forest,
In the pitch dark of night,
My car broke down,
And so was I,
Stranded with nothing to do,
And nothing to have,
I was exhausted,
And fell in slumber in a jiffy,
Before long,
At night,
I had dreams,
Of croissant, cream and coffee.

Target

Tested,
hunted,
singled,
chased,
cornered,
lashed,
to fatality,
he wanted to be away,
but they got their way,
and pulled out life's last ray.

Sequel-Fight It

Do something,
Anything,
If you have none,
Tear your shirt,
Sew it,
Read books read,
See the seen,
Do the done,
Let the mind,
And body,
Be one the move,
Do not coagulate,
With grounded,
And firm hooves.

Fight It

Have you fought tedium?
Or allowed it to get you down,
In more battles than one,
It has won,
Spent you,
Like a moon on wane,
Keep fighting it,
With weakened limbs,
And numbed brain,
In the process you are not going to die,
Till the time,
You have finished,
Your allotted grains.

Forced Blind

My eyes are sore,
Bleary and tearful,
Not from any ailment,
Physical,
But from the mere fact,
That they have been seeing,
What they should not have,
A lot of bad, ugly and unjust,
And more of it,
Day in and day out,
Here, there and everywhere,
I am exhausted,
And do not want to see,
I would prefer,
To shut eyes down,
And remain blind.

Escape Side

White lily and pink lotus,
Lot of round green plate like leaves,
With gems of spherical water,
With lake clear blue carrying them,
A dense fence of pine,
On one side,
Up the green slope,
Another hybrid chirping forest on another,
With idyllic plain folky hutments,
On the third,
It was my side,
From where I had arrived,
That was not promising,
Probably that's why,
I had arrived,
From that side,
Escaping on the sly.

One Sticky Question

There was a miracle,
Came the supernatural,
And awed us with unachievable,
Such things/events glue us bad,
Our technology attempts to copy as much,
Get which thus far eluded,
When it finally does things,
Miracles' proportions,
Will we be gods?
Or still be humans?
Don't have a clue,
But I am still glued.

Unused Sizes

Look at size,
From the atom,
To mountains,
To planets,
To galaxies,
We are aware,
Of a lot of spectrum,
But how much of it,
We can move and use,
Only a little,
Most of it is beyond,
And on a natural "refuse.

I won

Brave,
Raved.

Cowards,
caved.

Weak,
squeaked.

Strongs,
Hit with a bang.

Wise,
won the dice.

Fools,
Were winding wool.

I was none to full,
But a little of each I did pull,
I did as they did- none,
But a little,
but still won.

Timely Action

Perky,pert,
He did everything,
On just right alert,
He hit the nail,
And iron,
When it was hot,
And was,
very much,
sought,
for his right time,
so that,
they could alongside,
jingle the jackpot chime.

Deprived Mind

Parched mind,
Dry mind,
Starved mind,
Hungry mind,
Blank mind,
Sought,
Sought and sought,
Something,
To do,
but could not,
as he had done all,
he could,
there was nothing,
he had not,
when he found,
with a lot of difficulty,
one he had not,
they would not let him,
as it was,
their domain,
mind was deprived,
and so it remained.

Intense tense

Just tense,
Doing many things,
At once,
Not one of them,
having wee bit sense,
many of them went astray,
tense began turning grey,
now error was the there more,
only a little correct came to fore,
now he was hopping mad,
as the tense became red,
he could have bust,
had he not opted for rest,
no sooner had he cooled,
he did another wrong,
and was again,
sounding loud the tense gong.

Sky Canopy

Woolly and blue,
So spacious,
As to leave no clue,
Vaster than,
the sight of eyes,
when angry,
it relentlessly,
sunned and rained,
when happy,
it was clear,
and cool,
and added to it,
a rainbow,
It was umbrella to world,
In fact under it,
Was imprisoned,
The entire human hoard.

Hacked King

Croaking and stroking,
joking and smoking,
he became a king,
he began taking,
while he was busy making,
and raking,
all around began shaking,
the plots to overthrow began cooking,
and around him caking,
he cracked after lot of baking,
and came tumbling down after poin blank hacking.

Dog's Life and Death

It was drudgery,
mundane and back breaking,
they said often,
you are leading a dog's life,
just a straight line,
no trouble and strife,
bearing the burden,
a day will come,
all of asudden,
when you will collapse,
and in death relapse,
move a little here and there,
from your path,
look at fun,frolic and froth,
there is time still,
before you get still,
this did not move me a bit,
I had my road again hit,
knowing well fun,frolic and froth,
leads you to a dog's death.

Two Trees and Three Pigs

Ground pregnant with wetness,
the two lone trees stood in the walled compound,
on three sides there were walls,
on the other ran a drain,
a fetid mosquito ridden drain,
not much in width,
but so intense,
that odor competed with any far away incense,
a little distance from enclosure,
train lanes ran haywire,
the area was abandoned,
and very badly used,
all residents around there,
within a mile and more,
came and threw garbage,
and used it as dustbin,
drain and garbage drew civil pigs around,
I saw a trio of them,
snivelling the dirtiest,
and shovelling into them,
they had grown and gathered fat,
and were in pink of health,
the drain and its fertiliser,
also kept tress flushed,
there green,
had the sun quite hushed,
in that densely populated mile,
where man killed man,
for an inch of ground,
here was substantial land,
that was inhabited by three pigs,
and two trees,
which made it their stand.

Obese Death

Layers of fat,
melted by acid,
he took in more fat,
and now acid was less,
less melted,
and more piled on,
he was thickening,
and lazily drawn,
it went on for long,
till it rang,
the death gong,
and he was gone.

Master Hands

bricks lay scattered,
cement piled up bad,
the mason was ill trained,
and was a new lad,
he knew nothing,
and could not begin anything,
came the master craftsmen,
and the bricks themselves walked to places,
cement gelled with water,
and leaped to seal,
the building shaped,
and no longer was a dream.

Trampled Soul

Trampled soul,
crumpled bad,
in pain,
and pretty sad,
life doles out,
goodies few to a few,
only upon a shout,
others turn hoarse,
trampled,crumpled,
till the soul,
feel as if in a bad maul.

Let Joy Remain

Dispel the gloom,
sing of happiness,
as the joy booms,
it is not me or you,
but the world,
that is dancing,
let the feeling remain,
and the moment extend to time forever,
before it comes,
the heavy hand of fate,
who strawberries,
the joy,
with grief ahoy!

Neglected Fortune

Garbled and unclean,
swathed in grime,
with paper surface shredding to hide,
I carelessly threw the paper,
purchased for a little money,
around,
it had the marks,
as should be on a lottery ticket,
I thought it would just like others,
and would eat my fortune rather than add to it,
I though kept numbers in mind,
the day I heard it being announced,
my eyes were lit,
I harried for it,
nowhere it could be found,
even miles from where,
I had last abandoned it,
to this day,
the money remains unclaimed,
I know It is still lying in a corner,
suffering my neglect.

Fresh Eyes

I rolled my eyes,
here and there,
and everywhere,
to even the farthest clear sight,
I open-shut my lids several times,
my eyes were releived,
and stress free,
just then,
I saw an icicle melt,
and fall from a nearby tree,
it washed my eyes from afar,
leaving the world open,
for me to gape with fresh eyes,
totally ajar.

Cool Surrender

Prostrating just flat,
I felt a strange elation,
the smooth shiny ground felt cold,
on a hot humid afternoon,
and the body had cooled,
my mind had stopped and numbed,
I had only one thought,
that all my life I had fought,
now I had surrendered,
to the ONE,
whom for entire life I had sought.

Disobedience

The lady,
came out,
and turned about,
she was on a shout,
kid heard it loud,
he shivered,
in anticipation,
stood fixed for a moment,
then shook head as if shrugging it down all,
and went about playing the ball.

Reverse Offer

Try me today,
as if she made the offer,
I searched in my pockets,
as if searching the coffer,
It was really no good,
I was broke and in woods,
I looked at her very wry,
smiled and made an offer,
Here I am would you please try.

Bee Sting

Bee whirred,
the wings,
making that,
sound,
I was occupied in that,
thinking what it meant,
I discovered it truly,
only when it had stung.

Sequel to Recipe -Man

It is not standard,
the Recipe -man,
that is,
it varies with the main ingredient-Man,
and on his quality,
somewhere you may need a palmful of honesty,
at other boxes of truthfulness,
at other trunks of hardwork,
and drums of pleasant nature,
before you stir well,
all of it to a required gel,
do marinate him then,
and get the required man.

Recipe-Man

Take a pinch of honesty,
a little of truthfulness,
a spoonful of sincerity,
a bowl of hard work,
and a jar of liquid pleasant nature,
mix them all together,
till they gel,
really well,
then marinate me in it,
till I get soaked,
to my each croaking pore,
when done,
draw me out,
dry me,
and leave me free.

Realm of Taste

Tamarind,
honey,
bitterguard,
plain water,
and then plentiful salt,
I tingled on my tongue,
several times,
one after another,
felt the difference,
and savored it long,
the boundaries set by these,
were natural,
and all the rest,
fell in between,
in the realm of taste.

Future Fog

Bonny jewel,
shone,
not like a stone,
to a sharp hone,
glinting,
raying,
resplendent,
dancing in light,
the moment I moved it slight,
I had invested a lot of material,
for getting it for real,
it was chosen from many,
it was evalauted by valuer nany,
I took pain,
to get it cased,
in gold,
I do not know why I went all this hog,
probably all I wanted,
was to clear some of the future fog.

Kid in Mud

Mired in grime,
the little guy sang,
he had little sense,
of what was neat and clean,
he spluttered mud,
as he fell in the quagmire,
with a gleeful thud,
the mom came along,
before long,
chided him hard,
for he was growing fast,
and faster still gathering dirt,
she was fearful of him,
of the ills he might catch,
he still wanted,
the mud,
as much delight as it could fetch.

Human Greed

It drips all over,
dense, smelly and fetid,
it pours out from my each pore,
neither can I see it physically,
nor can you see it along,
it smears on my body parts,
and has the origin in my soul,
it makes me run,
and often go over board,
do you know what it is,
nothing but human greed.

Others Vs God

What is the time in day you spend,
looking at others,
what they have,what they are after,
what they are doing,
and what is the time in day you spend,
with the God,
what he is,what he has taught,
how he wants us to live,
if the time you spent on "others",
is more than what you do with God,
for you "others" are more important,
than God,
your life is,in that case,still away from God.

Sequel to Mechanical Life-Complications

The man ate,
he spoke,
he walked,
he worked,
he slept,
he awoke,
he repeated all of the above,
day in day out,
he called it life,
and did so,
till he was unable to call it so,
others did the same,
where was the confusion,
this is life,
if life was thi simple,
what was the clamor all about,
two words make for it all,
"special" and "of others",
If he wanted to do anything special,
meaning over the normally understood,
and which others also wanted to do,
he was bad and no longer good.

Mechanical Life

The man ate,
he spoke,
he walked,
he worked,
he slept,
he awoke,
he repeated all of the above,
day in day out,
he called it life,
and did so,
till he was unable to call it so,
others did the same,
where was the confusion,
this is life.

Life Permutations and Combinations

There are many,
with so many,
at so many,
that permutations and combinations are counless,
I am talking about,
people,
their intentions,
and places,
respectively,
now can you comprehend so many,
of permutations and combinations,
and get into maze,
It would be far better,
if you emrged out of this haze,
defined your own set,
and let not confusion,
let you fume and fret.

Returned Smile

You smiled,
I saw it clear,
it made me to do the same,
please keep smiling,
and I will do the same.

Jostle Divide

You jostle with me hard,
with the wanted object in between,
three things can happen,
you get it,
I get it,
or it tears somewhere,
then why jostle,
lets divide,
and go to our sides.

Feeling of Whole

Surreal hallucinations wafted dense,
metaphysical quantities swirled fast,
normal vision opaqued beyond farthing,
neurons rallied electrically in maze,
storey up the ground was holy,
brain had distanced from the body,
dismembered body parts were as yet members,
to keep me whole,
brain still had the control,
mental activity sometimes catpulted in hyper,
body felt left behind,
but the whole felt super.

Holy Death

Holy man just sat there,
sombre and calm,
not even waiting for the evening alm,
the river by the side,
ran along with no shame,
and nothing to hide,
the umberella tree,
was swaying in the wind free,
the holy man just sat there,
sombre and calm,
not even waiting for the evening alm,
his eyes were shut,
in indescribable emotion,
whether he was thinking or zero,
it was not known,
he had lost track of hours,
and they saw him all along,
they did not near him,
till they were certain,
that he was dead.

A little Support

The growth was in the salver,
that lay abandoned on the portal,
portal that itself lay ignored in a home corner,
Never had the chance to visit them,
in several and many days,
I had kept the recptacle,
because my fancy on it was killed,
wind blew,
and brought sand from the desert outside my home,
some of that sand deposited in the salver,
as it painstakingly over days,
of my ignorance,
collected more,
rain lashed in some days,
and a pollinating seed had flown in,
from somewhere else,
it germed and rooted,
when I was away,
when I looked at it,
I was reminded and rekindled,
that with little enthuse and support,
one can survive without motherly exhort.

Fixations

Frozen like ice,
the idea had stuck,
some of them do,
and take their toll,
they call them fixations,
they are the constraints,
mostly built,
though constraints are rarely built,
but these ones you do,
and like an obedient boy,
put down arms,
whenever they are around,
whatever might be the gain,
or irrepairable harm.

Globally fair

Are you fair,
you have motives,
behind all your acts,
very subtly,
you exercise them,
there are contributors,
who get you to gang,
you read the best,
and call it the least,
you are with a few,
and not with others,
anyone of those others,
when they come to you,
you exclude them,
if you can't do that,
you let them lie flat,
and attempt,
that anything they do not get,
are you fair,
ask yourself,
if you are fair for a group,
and then you are not so,
globally,
do you really wish to be fair,
globally,
ask yourself,
are you fair.

A Final Act

Preening to an eye ache,
he searched for meaning abound,
in my acts that lay around,
all scattered and in shambles,
I had strewn his home and hearth,
after blasting it to smithreens,
I remember the scorch that I had lit,
in his poor thatched bit,
which had everything eaten,
and leaving all only ashen,
I had evn lost,
what I could have got,
this man was without address,
and had no redress,
I had killed a life,
though it could have lived with some strife.

Related Help

I relate to you,
my tale,
It is heart warming ,
that you heard it,
Can you do something about it,
you are not judge,advocate,
or a man on scene,
you know what I want,
and what I have not got,
you also know how I have not got,
that I wanted bad,
Can you do something about it,
my fellah,
yes my common next door fellah,
Weigh you propensity,
to help out,
and work to fill in the want,
if you can fill in even a portion,
you have done abit for heavenly mention.

Our Musk

Musk deer has it hidden,
he is known for it,
where is my musk,
it is here with me,
each one of us has it,
we cannot find or spread it,
till we get it ripe,
ripen it and spread it,
and be identified,
like that musk deer.

Master of an Art

Mastering an art,
means jostling with it day and night,
when you began with it,
you often you thought you were doing right,
but as yet solution was not in sight,
you knew there and then that you were not right,
you looked for solutions to the petty,
before you began back for the ship on the jetty,
that screw would be inside,
and only with that driver besides,
you learnt it for life,
and you began your next dive,
you dove,drowned and swam,
till you had learnt all screws and drivers,
you even could correlate,
and found new ways,
of doing it in least possible time,
and now you are there,
master here,
and everywhere.

Life of Extremes

Prime time merry,
and blue depression of nadir,
sun and gloomy dark night,
intelligence with brilliance,
and wooden dud with dead senses,
the fairest of them all,
and the swarthiest,
the softest cushion,
and the hard glint of diamond,
swinging swaying between extremes,
we weep,cry,smile and live the life,
more than you can think,
you adjust to the mood,
and skate on on the life's skating rink.

Foreign Language

Have you heard any body speak in foreign language,
and compared it to the growl of a tiger,
or even the bark of a dog,
both weigh the same,
they are unintelligible sounds,
the only difference is that,
you know it is the human,
who spake with self interest in full,
and the animal,
with his limited self interest,
and it is the self interest,
which makes you familiar,
with language,
so that it is not foreign any longer.

Pursuit of Deeds

I am old and frail,
and spend my time now with holy grail,
I have done a lot of deeds,
in my life indeed,
some I do remember,
and other are a forgotten lot,
I have no sore in my body,
but my heart and psyche is full of sores,
several unjust and fair acts,
gnaw me hollow inside,
in some I was made a party,
others I took up when I was fully hearty,
those which are owned by me pain most,
those up in magnitude,
hurt me like permanent hosts,
I lick them every now and then,
Ask the grail to let them not remain,
but each day that I get up,
they also get up with me along,
I do not know if they would leave me,
after I am dead,
for deeds last more than a life time,
and pursue you in life ahead.

Social Animals

You are one presence,
or are you,
you try hard each time,
you are in company,
some of it is natural,
flowing from your aura,
at others you have devices,
to make you known,heard and seen,
is it necessary that you are acknowledged,
can't you arrive and leave,
all alone,
just like animals,
who do know and feel,
each other,
but not so demonstrably along,
perhaps not,
that is the clue,
to the human glue,
they are just animals,
and you are social animals.

Past Lessons

Remember the past,
You spent till the day last,
Did it mean much,
what did you gain as such,
how much of it formed,
into your learned rules,
how much of it you classified in your loft,
do you find any of it,
worth any use,
or you have written of your life,
as a refuse.

Sequel to Blank

They gave me a paper to write upon,
yet gain,
it was invitingly smooth and blank,
even now,
they handed me a pen,
another pretty one,
that wrote smooth,
from flank to flank,
again and again,
but I had nothing in my mind,
that was coherent and formed,
ashamed as I was,
of keeping the first one blank,
this one I filled,
with whatever I could from my mind yank,
and waited with bated breath,
to see,hear the written paper's death.

Blank

They gave me a paper to write upon,
it was invitingly smooth and blank,
they handed me a pen,
that wrote smooth,
from flank to flank,
but I had nothing in my mind,
so the paper remained blank.

Toy Introduction to life

Toy was plastic,cloth and some material,
it had a shape,
a face,
a bright set of eyes,
painted black,
a ruddy pair of cheeks,
and pink lips,
it was blindingly blonde,
it made sweet tweet,
whenever pressed around,
its body was soft,
and shaped like human,
it was just that,
for me and you,
but it was introduction to life,
for the little baby,
who touched and fondled it.

New Right

What is right,
it is no longer enforced with might,
at least physical,
however we are not talking about ensuring it,
we are talking about understanding it,
right is right to me,
right to you,
and right to all you know,
perhaps some of them may disagree,
but you let it go,
focus on majority,
and take that as right,
often that itself is written/understood law,
however when it is time to change law,
what do you do,
conduct another plebicite,
to establish the new right,
however we are lazy as a group,
and seldom do such plebicites,
we let the old right remain,
and practice the wrong as right.

Getting Heard

Slam it hard,
yeah its your point I am talking about,
do not go round about,
identify the nail head,
hammer it till it turns red,
people have opaque minds,
clothed with rhino skins,
they hear little and understand even less,
mostly they do so when it is self interest,
rest of it they simply ignore,
whoever said that listening was an art was right,
however to get heard its a real fight.

Darned out Body

Darn the worn out,
And in such a manner,
That the thing appears new,
He did it with clothes,
I used to do that with lives,
I did several times with my own,
and of those connected around,
We had all broken shreds of lives,
And underneath peered near-deaths,
And they were not wrong,
When they had said,
That we die several times in our lives,
What they had not said,
That we darn it each time,
Good or bad,
More often than not,
It's bad and rather very bad,
We age with the impact,
And as yet go on,
Our body is cloth to our souls,
Which escapes it,
The day body is completely worn out,
And cannot be darned about.

Episode-Reading

I was lounged prostrate,
And in a restful state,
A light was lit just at the right place,
And in cold weather fire place was ablaze,
I had a soft and warm bed,
And I had been well fed,
I held my favorite author,
And my mind had no bother,
Each letter coalesced with the other,
To form those well seen words,
Words were woven into taut meaning,
One meaning lay there,
And was leaning into the other naked and bare,
Each paragraph carried food for thought,
Which my mind had long sought,
By the time I was through with several pages,
My mind was satiated,
It thumped me on the feast,
And I tuned over for a nice peaceful sleep.

Night Sky Screen

Puny me,
Bandar like,
Stood there,
Shaking,
And gazing,
The night sky,
Neck ached,
With the effort,
As I saw a sky,
That was neat and clear,
Bejeweled,
With cool a breeze,
In atmosphere,
I looked beyond,
At the spectacle,
At the twinklers,
Near and far,
How bountiful,
Was the creator?
He had given me this night,
With astonishing ornaments,
They were worlds,
Far bigger than ours,
We have only scratched,
Knowledge of them,
When we would,
Use them full,
For it is said,
That the creator,
Had created,
Everything with a purpose,
What was the purpose,
Of these worlds,
Not simply ornamental,
Nor that creator,
Proved with them decisively,
That he was above all,
It is in future that,
We would know more,
And read into their meaning,
As of today,
They simply do atmosphere screening.

Communal Coexistence

Give me all that you want for yourself,
I seemed to say it to all and all times,
they seemed to say about the same to me,
where do we go from here,
Is it really a zero sum game,
Land is there enough for all,
If I have ahouse villa mile long,
and you have a rat hole,
probably not,
water is it again there for all,
some bathe in champagne,
and others in mosquito larvae infested drains,
there seems to be shortage,
some breathe green touched air freeing flow,
others take in a mix from adozen chimneys and factories,
same holds for all that we created,
against the price tags,
we all seem to hanker for more,
what is that link,
which glues us to matter,
so that nothing comes latter,
I am confused,
its allright somethings I want,
and you do not,
but most fundamentally we are competititors,
is there no way out,
for robust communal coexistence,
find a way,
and let me know,
because then I wanna let everyone know.

Nothing and Nothing

Lets not be muddy,
talk clear,
and hear clear,
and as well see clear,
do you remember the day you were born,
probably not,
but you heard a lot about it,
your parents joyed the fornight thereafter,
and tossed you in air,
didthey ever tell you if God sent anything with you,
down as you were born,
not even clothes as you were naked when you had come,
now you are clamoring for everything,
grasping and rapping hands and legs,
to get all you can,
you keep them in some kind of receptacles,
be it house almirah or shelf,
now ask yourself will you carry them back,
when you are done and gone,
no if you have not done what was not to be done,
God probably would send you back with nothing on.

Beautiful Ugliness

There was this man,
nothing less than a swan,
he walked majestically,
as his blonde mien flew flawlessly,
his blue eyes sparkled,
as if colored sapphires,
so did his even white dentures,
his shapely features,
just left you gaping,
his well contoured body,
made him really somebody,
I racketed to be near him,
and got my chance,
his first words,
got me zapped,
he spoke bad and ill of others,
soon I discovered he lived for himself,
and wanted to use everybody else,
for his own devious and regular ends,
he played amourous with cruel flirt,
and changed mates as if they were shirts,
he never made a pal,
because in moments of meeting him most were apalled,
his scars grew on his skin,
his teethe turned murky black,
all human qualities he seemed to lack,
he was hideous,
under his skin,
and everybody knew,
including his own kith and kin.

Uncouth Beauty

Uncouth and hideous,
the large yellow denture,
that jutted out like poles,
those undulating skin folds,
that scarred the face,
those slanted muddied eyes,
those swollen colorless lips,
and haywire hairs that stood like a demon crown,
everyone saw this guy and had a frown,
so did I,
in fact I was not ready for second meeting,
but had to as we both worked at the same place,
his first words were mellifluous,
his demeanour so subdued,
when he helped along,
he got you going,
and nothing less,
I saw his yellow denture vanish,
they now appeared regular,
he won me with his manner,
not near but far,
slowly his scars were gone too,
and his eyes turned benevolent,
he had remained just as I had met,
it is only that I had changed.

Death Corner

On my back somebody rapped,
I turned back as if trapped,
they had me down there,
and there was no escape here,
it was a corner,
where I had gone for shelter,
now it had become a run helter skelter,
I looked with eyes as hapless as those of a deer,
my breath stopped and not taking any gears,
I looked my adversary in eyes,
and looked at his cruelty witha lot of sly,
his hand rose in offence,
in the daylight something flashed.
and I had developed a deadly gash,
I lay bleeding to death,
still wondering why I had made that corner dash.

Distant Dreams

Distant dreams guide me far,
they are what I live for,
I conjure them up every day,
they form here for a permanent stay,
its not that I am always on path,
it is not rare that I stray,
my dreams get me back on my way,
my dreams are soft and far,
they are the future ajar,
sometimes they are brought near,
at that moment I catch my breath dear,
as I get them in my pocket,
my happiness simply rockets,
otherwise I plummet deep,
in blue despair,
only to get up and revise,
the dream that got me wise.

Lonely at the Top

Rocks splattered all over,
big and small,
I was trying to have a ball,
in nature's mall,
I was wandering aimlessly,
in the mountains,
and had climbed a few,
and was thinking of doing the others,
they were not mountains,
at least not that height,
something lesser,
may be to call them hillocks,
is just about right,
so I did leg on to the third one,
this was the highest of the lot,
I reached the peak,
and saw with a sharp geek,
as far as the sight could see,
I could see only heights,
barren ,rocky tough heights,
and of course the ground undulating,
that lay in between,
I watched that for hours,
in the cold wind that blew across,
probably I could have been enthused much more,
and more ideas would have come to me,
but the one that stuck in most,
was its really lonely at the top,
and there is not much to look and stop.

Andrews and Katerina

Andrews and Katerina,
How did they name these,
wind demons,
and flood wreckers,
they blow like hell,
coming all of a sudden,
they are real real bad,
they do not mark,
a house from aroad,
a pole from a factory,
they simply destroy all they get,
they are ravenous when it comes to death,
they spell it so hard and bad,
that we cry for dear ones and leave thousands sad,
sad is not enough,
they uproot homesteads,
a sad man,
who is mourning dead,
is now without homestead,
how did they name these,
so soft and like a girl and a lad,
they are so bad,
that they should be named,
bad and bad,
may be followed by numbers to be had.

Relaxed Being

I was hurried for days,
may be it was weeks and may be months,
I am not so sure when I last rested,
perhaps it was years before,
hustled and bustled thus,
my nerves were racking and ripe with stress puss,
they could burst bad,
and I had high cholesterol,
my physician had told me,
let things be as they are,
and you be be,
but I had not cared,
till today morning,
as I lay there in bed,
Suddenly astray thought caught me alive,
for whom and for what,
was I running around,
I weighed in somberly the costs,
and found that they were not much,
I relaxed tip to toe right there in bed,
I caressed my tense facial muscles,
with my finger tips,
as they relaxed,
I shrugged my haip ends,
to let the static get off,
now langurously,
I ran my palm over my chest and stomach,
I breathed easy,
as I softly pinched my butt,
I shook my legs in an outward heave,
so that jagged muscled would relieve,
I did this several times over,
and made a soft turn on my bed,
Now I had focussed my mind,
and relapsed into a deep sleep,
now there were no schedules,
nothing to cry and weep.

Good,Bad and Dead

Many a time,
I am dead,
and as yet arise alive,
to feel good and bad,
if feeling bad recurs more oftener,
than feeling good,
then situation again rises,
when I once more am dead,
bad sometimes is shame,
sometime my untruths,
and at others my dishonesty,
sometimes my blatant betrayal of innocent,
and at others my violence on weak,
it is not that I cannot control feeling bad,
but sometimes and quite often at that,
I feel very good before despairing into deep bad,
now I have resolved,
as lot of bad has happened,
that company or no of devils,
I will avoid doing bad,
and be dead only once,
when I can not do any good or bad.

Garland of Death

Garlands of soft fresh flowers,
what does a thick one conjure up for you,
a lot of fragrance and joy,
particularly when it is put around your neck,
by some one very conspicuously and clearly,
you are often celebrating a victory,arrival or glory,
and are aware of all that which is the main story,
only in one case you so helpless and bad,
that you do not even know who has garlanded you and when,
it is when you are lying in wreaths pretty dead.

Decisive Mind

Damn the man,
he stood there all alone,
all of us were on one side,
and he was shouting hoarse besides,
we were all laughing at first,
making fun of him,
cajoling him to come this side,
but he thought and probably thought for his best,
he did not and did not budge,
he was gesticulating hard,
with his hand,
and before we could apprehend,
what had happened,
the wooden bridge we were all standing on,
had collapsed,
some of us were hurt,
and some of us died,
as we fell in the deep crevice,
there he came on the shore,
and spoke his lore,
how hard he had been tring to tell,
that the wooden support of the bridge,
was shaky and as good as fell,
I was hurt,
but thought,
it is good to be decisive,
and firm as hell,
even if all others are on one side,
once every good while.

End of Cigar

The cigar cutter hung loose,
as my index finger ring shone,
I ringed the cutter with abandon,
thinking ,waiting and thinking,
something meshed my mind,
and clouded the smoking of cigar,
my mind probably in areflex,
thought that lighting it would be better,
may be I would also think better,
index finger firmed and worked the cutter,
as it honed the cigar to a light,
I lit it up and began billowing smoke,
the rings of smoke and many shapes,
rose in the air,
as it filled the space,
my mind was smoking now inside out,
and had got the required inebriation,
it began working as billowing smoke,
smoothened the thoughts,
in fact mind that bent upon the frequency,
as slow as the smoke,
and each thought also billowed slowly up,
before I accepted or discarded the lot,
soon my eyes lit up with solution,
and I snuffed in the lit cigar,
one light was good enough,
and it was the end of cigar.

Chemical Bond

You are not pretty as much as others,
who are after me bad,
but I do not seem to find it so,
you appear more soulful to me,
and that is what I find prettier,
I do not know what "soulful" stands for,
but that is the word that comes to mind,
which I use to explain whenever you are around,
probably its your air,
and your attention to me,
that sums it up,
or may be that your eyes search me out of the crowd,
that explains a bloody lot,
its hardly physical,
and much more,
but its also totally physical and nothing else,
I am confused,
my chemicals surge out to you,
whenever you are around,
my magnetic aura rushes to you,
doing the madly rounds,
who cares for your facial and bodily beauty,
which will wither with age,
come let us search together,
and strengthen this chemical bond.

All Tastes of Life

My son had a penchant,
for soft and sweet,
he would discard all that,
which was not the above two,
I had been observing for long,
and he had maintained his dates with these two,
I wondered what was place of hard,bitter and rough,
in his life,
he probably knew,
that these non soft and sweet would come,
and they did come,
to my horror,
he let them be,
and bore the cost,
while he picked up soft and sweet,
he was covering himself in a coccoon,
and refused to come out of it,
I knew the scene had to be remedied,
and remedied soon,
I studied his soft and sweet,
and marked them as such,
next when he approached one,
I had hidden hard under soft,
and bitter under sweet,
he discovered them soon,
and thought it was a piece bad,
next he got about the same,
I had to work hard but did not mind the same,
I carried on with that,
till one day my son came,
and identified hard and bitter himself,
now he had recognized these two important ones.

Societal Pickle

Man the woman had vegetable in raw,
I had tasted them as raw,
they were sweet and carbohydrates,
she cut them to pieces,
and got a helping of vinegar,
she put in a lot of seasoning,
and had readied the jar,
jar lay there for week,
gathering atmosphere and temperature,
one day the woman came,
and served open the jar,
an incense wafted up in the air,
as she opened the jar ajar,
the incense worked down my nostrils,
as my apetite rose up with its touch,
the seasoned pickle was yummy,
and much more,
I loved the food that went with it,
and really thought that the food went with it,
rather than the other way round,
seasoned mature folks do about the same,
as they are served on society table,
they waft their incense,
to raise general apetites,
they make for good socital intercourse,
and have all eating from their hands,
it is only important,
that we allow time and space,
to the society,
to pickle such fine people,
and cherish them forever or till they last.

That Unique One

You are so good,
I cannot describe in words,
they simply do not come to me,
as I search them for everywhere,
I have read a lot,
and wrote a lot,
words have been what I have played with for long,
but when you stand there,
they are simply not there,
I at once feel asurge of life,
I wish to talk to you,
and catch your eyes,
I know you are busy and have chores to attend,
but I wish to keep you there watching you,
intently all along,
you cannot reciprocate,
because you do not know how I feel,
you are the one that I want to be with,
with the rest of my life,
let me see how much of me can I put forward to you,
and how much of it can you return back,
even if it is a small portion,
I am sure you will not leave me for anyone else.

Animal Traits

I had a pass time,
It was funny to say the least,
I had gathered images of animals,
in my mind,
from various sources and places,
I kept on comparing these,
with those of people around,
there was that sharp nosed and eyed guy,
who looked like a fox,
then there was that little neat lady,
who looked like acat,
then there was another stately guy,
who had amien like a lion,
then there was another guy,
who could smell and bark like a dog,
some were even more exotic,
and lazy enough to resemble tortoise,
some were as frisky as house rats,
then there were several who were,
slithering like snakes,
others made you beleive they were lizards,
once categorized,
I would compare their traits,
with their animal counterparts,
and you know what,
they fitted the bill more often than not,
is it possible that they had reborn humans,
still having the traits as remnants.

Ill Wind

The little piece of flesh had no airs,
he was toddling free,
his facial muscles moved in abandon,
as his eyes lit in every little recognition,
he lay there on the floor,
trying to wriggle and walk,
the world moved around him in limited fashion,
not willing to change,
but he had formed an innocent will,
a pure and godly wish,
to learn all and he will,
he would change and change for better,
as of now his mind could not say,
he thought little and pondered still less,
I do not know from where he would catch the ill wind,
all along his age,
by the time he is a grown piece of flesh,
he would have gathered wile with willy nilly,
and began his worldly journey of hit and dash.

The Road Ahead

The road lay straight ahead,
unwinding and flat out,
I was standing atop a distance,
and was dreading the walk,
that lay ahead,
The muscles were already weary,
and the body had little store of energy,
perspiration had taken its toll,
and I was simply not ready for the stroll,
sun was cruel and heartless,
it was raining sunshine cats and dog,
then the long distance,
that could be seen by naked sight,
was creating a mental quagmire and bog,
idyllically I raised my hand,
to shade the face,
suddenly the little finger and the thumb,
bended in a measuring compass,
with an effort I raised the hand compass,
and could measure the entire road,
in the straight line that I drew from finger to thumb,
tip to tip,
entire road came in that,
my mind registered that the road was such a small effort,
and I took my next step.

Apostle

He rose from the mist,
came clear and became apparent,
he had risen from where,
mist rose from the dust,
wherever he went,
he shook the dust,
and made for change,
he also churned the sky,
about his height,
to give rise to lot of mist,
each time both cleared,
that is dust and mist,
they clamored for a look at his visage,
that lovely well shaped face,
with that beatific smile,
and a look in eye,
that splattered all intelligence around,
he like a pied piper,
herded them truly around,
they pined for his few words,
for he spoke only a chosen few,
and each time he did,
his undid a knot that strangled many a mind,
they looked for him forever,
and lived under his shadows,
the day came when the familiar mist was gone,
and there lay aheap of dust,
they were looking for him already,
and found the apostle had gone bust,
but he remained in memories for centuries,
they now prayed to him in ethereal and he was god,
the apostle was there and had remained.

Life of Iron Smith

Smith was hide and water,
hide shone,
water flowed,
heat was intense,
as the furnace roared,
and neared smith's hand,
his gloves had blackened,
by the leaping flames,
his eyes were widened,
by the red of the flames,
his perspiration was in streams and all water,
his skin by osmosis with fire was red,
and now shone,
his hard worked muscles rippled,
as he hammered on molten wrought to give shape,
his life was just this,
each day he worked the hours wanted and needed,
and he quietly wound it all at end,
he slipped in a quick supper,
that was hearty and rustic,
and then fell on the bed,
which had no cushions,
I wondered always with lot of awe,
as a child I had seen him thus,
and he was still doing that,
after years,
what he had gained and what he had lost,
one day I queried him straight,
he simply shrugged and was brusque,
putting it simply he said,
I do not know much,
and cannot think of life,
but go to any household in this hamlet,
and you would see me in each house,
in the form of shaped iron,
that you use in more ways than one,
my awe had turned to admiration,
I turned back,
saying he does deserve his good night's sleep,
which most of us are hard to get.

Return Journey

Distance distanced as yet,
as if mercury rippled forward helpless,
I stood there affixed,
like a stamp on an envelop,
location was altered,
so was time,
I was in a different environ,
away from mine,
everything looked strange,
they spoke words with little meaning,
and the sounds were new,
they laughed when I least expected,
and cried when I was happy,
everything was awkward and snappy,
on my tentherhooks and tense,
a lump developed in my mind,
and in my throat which I could find,
I do not know when all of these,
became day to day routine,
and the day came to stretch distance yet again,
and to return to mine,
so i did,
only to find they were strange,
and no longer as much mine.

Plant Tale

That lone ornamental plant,
that stood straight,
with colored shiny leaves,
had its own story to relate,
it was brought in infancy,
to the office,
to decorate and tickle fancy,
it was an eye soothe,
amongst dead office wood eye sores,
and people who were alive,
but wanted others dead,
plant was innocent,
and had not thought so in the start days,
but had gathered that over each passing day,
he had a secret to reveal,
that people came to office,
not to work,
but to work down others,
they were jealous and egoists,
they spoke lies and spoke bad of others,
most of the time they did that,
only a little was left,
for the work for which they were paid for,
life of the plant was spent thus,
he became tired and almost dead,
he knew these evil people,
would throw him out one day,
and that they did,
but he was happy,
that he was free,
of evil and bad.

Sensitive Mad

Being sensitive,
meant all my senses were alive,vibrant and kicking,
perhaps more than anybody else,
I could see more,
perceive more,
hear more,
and think and correlate more,
what I did not know was that I could turn a toy,
a toy to play with and pass time,
soon enough I turned that,
a set of insensitive souls,
fed my senses more and more,
they let me think and correlate,
on all that they had fed more,
soon my systems cracked,
and my sensesss broke,
they correlated garbage in garble,
and finally broke down,
a sensitive soul had lost all senses,
and now was branded "mad" by those insensitive souls.

Doors

Could you see behind the obstruction,
a flat and wide obstruction,
which was a door,
I nudged it and saw more,
what I saw interested me a little more,
I walked ahead the space and there was another door,
in curiosity I nudged it ajar,
what I saw shone better for my stars,
I roamed that space again,
till I began getting insane,
and soon enough saw another door,
I pushed it open,
and there was the sight I was pining for,
all of a sudden,
I liked it so good that I decided to stay,
I was also tired of opening and pushing doors,
I loved the people and things,
that lay inside that door,
it was my lifetime,
that I spent behind that door,
quite unmindful,
that there was more,
and more and not yet shore.

facing a name

Give me a face and I will give it a name,
whether you,he/she likes it or not,
but give me a name I would not be able to give it a face,
is it that I cannot create faces as much as I can reel out names,
yes the brain has limited powers to store images,
and even if recollected,
images can be produced only through a medium,
which may be there or not,
as you fix a face to a name,
so naming is easy while finding real culprit is tough,
the message is hear not very clean cut and a little rough.

Mindful of Bell Unmindful of Crime

the bell rang in a sharp chime,
piercing the viscid night slime,
and alerted many nearby,
who were busy in crimes,
they bolted and ran,
and vowed to keep the bell in mind,
the next time they did the crime.

GHOST

I got to 60,
nothing wrong in it,
quite a few get that far,
however I got to see a change,
which was abnormal and seen rare,
not like normal aging that catches you after 40,
I got up one fine morning,
and out of the bed,
there was this thing behind me,
as if following me far,
I felt it allright,
and in full sunny day that was bright,
it was my height and width,
and simply kept walking behind,
I thought it was here for short,
but it had remained with me since,
I looked at my shadow if it had doubled,
but neither "he" nor his shadow could be ogled,
nobody saw them while he weighed me full,
I felt as if my "ghost" had arrived before time,
soon I got used to it,
and did not care a dime,
till the day it spoke to me one day,
and said,dear its time we are one,
and be prepared I am winding up the show,
The next day I did collapse and lay physically dead,
but now I was gone and only the "ghost" had remained.

Understood Creation

Maestro at work,
the words began to hark,
the ideas flew and sparked,
and gathered in lumped groups,
near and far,
He began the art and got about them,
deftly separated grouped ideas,
into meanings and began frantically to match words,
words were found and discovered,
some carried meaning others carried almost,
it was he who pin pointed for sure,
the ideas lacked sequencing,
he did that pretty fast,
soon the garland was ready before,
church bells rang the time past,
and there was his creation,
in chosen words,
and of chosen ideas,
and conveying the target message,
satisfied that he could comprehend as much,
he went about assaying the same for his audience,
one fella fell for it flat,
and the other called it flat,
a number of them came around,
and understood meaning just about,
their light houses lighted the tossy wild waves,
he went about taming the same,
with tedium and labor,
he got it all right,
now anybody who read or heard it,
got the scenic picture behind it,
in complete full sight.

Random in Structure

As I pen the ink anything can happen,
as I sit back and relax anything can happen,
as my thoughts run wild anything can happen,
as I move out on the road anything can happen,
as I work on my garden anything can happen,
as I prattle to my toddler anything can happen,
as I shop anything can happen,
anything can happen after anything,
there is no design and structure,
but there is one overall objective,
I survive and survive for a period I hope,
that is fixed,
all within this period is random,
one act of mine leads to series of others,
the series are interconnected to other series,
and interconnections are hard to see,
we dance to randomness with a future quite dark,
there is no science to predict future,
as yet we all survive and coexist,
thats a wonder,
because randomness dances in a structure.

Garden Metaphor

The green patch was wild and overgrown,
the tallest grassy scrapers vied for length,
some had risen skywards and ended in bloom,
others were lying in lowly gloom,
each got support of fertile ground,
as land water was aplenty and abound,
they presented a site ugly and uncouth,
and was hurting sensibilities in a scathe,
my eyes were sore for long,
such injustice and inequality I could not sight,
I got the mower and cut them all to size,
behold what pretty it looked,
all neat and equal and nicely booked,
our egos are same,
they play tall and short games,
and develop and nurture good and bad aims,
cut them to amenable heights,
and in group you would look a pretty sight.

Lost to Own

Bravado and gaiety,
Marked the laity,
They were intoxicated,
From the problem they had been extricated,
There was a man,
Who was the swan,
Among celebrating also swams,
He gesticulated victorious,
And puffed and smelled the air,
His chest was pulled out,
As he marshaled his winning army about,
The folk jumped, danced and laughed,
Their future was free and well graphed,
Their year long fears were buried and dead,
This man had braved and stemmed the rot,
The drunken day went on for its 24 hours,
The man was lifted on shoulders that day,
And on the next there were suggestions to "lift him in society,
However something was not right,
His lieutenants were not feeling bright,
They thought they had as much fought,
And deserved the "trophy sought,
They conspired and brought the hero down,
His opportunities were stolen,
As juniors sighted not a pint but the full gallon,
They grabbed all that was offered him,
And became the controlling generals,
They let him be,
And run errands to their fancies and whims,
The hero had won foreign unknowns,
But in his own land he was brutally drowned.

Warmth-Generic Kind

Rum me fast,
Let it warm snowy sinews,
My fingers cannot move,
Heat them at last,
My legs feel leaden,
As if weighing tons,
Let them march past,
My facial muscles are screwed in hold,
Liquefy them from the cold,
Light the furnace,
Let the fire grab the rum in embrace,
Bring me a bowl of hot soup,
Which can heat me,
From toe to lip,
Put over me warmer clothes,
Freezing winds are working in like sharp lathes,
They are all my dearest hopes,
As I lye forlorn on a cold footpath,
And stagger up to get up catching stand rope.

Music and Man-Generic Chronicle

Strumming the four strings,
Got my fingers vibrating,
Those jingled nerve endings,
And reached my spine and brain,
The tones that came out,
Were melodious and sweet,
They tingled my ear drums,
It reached brain and perhaps spine,
And felt good,
I continued to strum,
And noticed nearby ears "tingled too,
Man makes music,
Music makes man too,
Believe it- in many senses its true.

Sea Metaphor

Sea tossed and was fidgety,
My vessel tiny and puny,
The wind was irate and angry,
It turned me every one way,
Directionless tossed and chopped,
I adjusted blown sails almost in a drop,
I feared for my carrier,
Any moment it may prove a fallen warrior,
I frantically did my compass,
For any sign of land mass,
Our puny lives are same,
In the sea of "life,
We are tossed chopped and hustled,
By its "winds and "water,
We look for "direction,
To reach a "land mass,
Some times we reach ashore,
Till on a day we are drowned before.

Sequel to Suicide

After my first cutlass slash,
I had hit upon a bloody nervy sash,
And had fainted half,
Rest of the scene was in delirium,
A nightmare and a dream,
I was discovered by house help,
Who couriered me to medical help,
I am treated in stomach and mind for the wound,
And out of depression,
For a life that abounds.

Suicide

Rusted iron bowl,
Grayed and blackened,
One day I picked that up from barn,
It was commodious enough,
For about three or little more pounds,
With it I went inside,
And slumped on a chair beside,
My sick tired and lonesome frame,
Simply got framed,
A mirror glared at me,
Within it ran the reels of my real,
My failures,rejections,betrayals,
Defeats and sadness,
I was the lone viewer,
Everybody had deserted,
With each passing frame,
My depression got aflame,
Cold depression,
Was soon burning me full,
I was in this crevice for years,
And unable to pull,
Today it was unbearable,
I made an effort to pick up the cutlass,
And with no effort,
I dumped it in my stomach cavity,
I made a large cut,
And began pulling out my guts,
They refused,
I thought they were refuse,
I cut them loose,
I felt no pain,
Because much severe ones I had already gained,
My cavity was empty,
On table top lay heap of my guts,
My palms were soiled and bloody,
Slowly I began to collect the heap,
And put them in iron bowl,
I wrote on bowl side a bloody fingered SUICIDE,
And last uttered that I do not have enough guts,
Before I slumped dead.

Car Metaphor

Bronchial car chugged along,
As if it was a train,
Its tyres were bald,
Needing treading,
Its color unhealthy pale,
Its window glasses almost porous,
That you sit in four,
And possibly take a tour,
Was a surprise,
It seemed like our old folks,
Bronchial, pale and unhealthy,
If the old car was to tour,
It has to be cared more,
Same for our old,
You have to care and be warm,
And simply not a hostile cold.

Mango Metaphor

Mango was sweet and sour,
The juice was plenty,
And began to pour,
Flesh was fleshy,
And also very meshy,
Consumed nothing remained,
Hard seed was forlorn with juice drained,
Skin was vestigial,
Thrown in a waste fall,
Life is like that sweet and sour,
With lot of juice,
Soon it is consumed,
Hard seed is called the dead,
deeply interred,
and it lived was presumed.

Man Proposes and God Disposes

Man proposes and God disposes,
What if proposals are rotten?
God would have to squirm,
And he actually does,
That is how we gather gas,
And move on to our next proposal,
However understood is one fact,
God does not dispose necessarily,
Therefore choose proposals with abundant tact.

Chronicle of a Healthy Relation

Lissome blossom,
Look that shook,
Exchange on a long range,
Embrace with grace,
Kiss as if a bliss,
Infection of affection,
Dove like love,
Life without strife,
Material as well as immaterial,
Its flow sweet slow,
Rare care,
Together with no bother,
Understanding outstanding,
Happy and zappy,
They lived sipping nectar forever.

Education

Cram it in,
wham it in,
in any manner you like,
when it does spike,
get it out,
and let it sprout,
you must score,
despite the process being bore,
forget it all after you have scored,
and get about doing routine job chores,
this is the education we all take and give,
does it produce the men we need,
or is simply an entry gate,
what was the need to cram,
that now you have forgotten,
this routine you could have done,
when you were just on gate one,
is it not true,
that most educate for a place,
then do works common place,
dig sharper and retain,
what you learned years before,
use it to the best effect,
that will be education in fact.

Paraffin Metaphor

Paraffin in liquid with heat,
I let a drop of water in it neat,
It sizzled and smoked and paraffin turned solid,
at that particular place,
More of paraffin dropped on solid spot,
and melted it down again,
our interactions are like that,
any human pouring cold water over your zest,
and you turn cold at best,
you look for warmth,
before you catch your next breath.

Dumb Charade

Dumb charade was a riot,
they laughed as he could not get,
what she pointed with fret,
he made errors,
as she shouted in clamour,
time was running out fast,
they were trying hard,
and could get object at last,
I was watching all of them,
and was also laughing ahem,
a thought struck me there and then,
look at the hundreds of deaf and dumb,
who play this game with so much elan,
without any mirth and plan,
evrybody lets them gesticulate and flap,
but nobody come forward to clap.

Siesta of a Vulture

Soaring high that was a dot,
On the blue azure it was a moving spot,
My eyes were blinking in the sunshine,
as this dot-spot was caught,
I watched its circular move,
as if it moved in a groove,
it was enjoying the height,
where wind blew and temperature was slight,
idling in my siesta,
I dug with spoon in my pasta,
I looked up again now,
the dot had taken a bow,
and climbed a little down,
interested that ground had him something shown,
I watched letting pasta go cold,
this dot was now lower and bold,
its majestic wings came in sight,
it turned and wobbled not much but slight,
I noticed its sharp beak,
vulture it was so it did speak,
soon it was swooping inch ahead of head,
and suddenly it changed path,
and swiftly very swiftly charged,
and came head long for me,
I could let me be me,
shrieked and cried I startled,
the vulture had dug into my pasta,
and now was climbing up on his on siesta.

Dead Commentrator

He commented a lot,
on all and sundry,
said he had reached a place,
in society,
and now could talk,
on all and sundry,
they heard him in awe,
as his words of petty points,
seemed soft and good,
time flowed,
and to comment became a habit,
now he made it his sole occupation,
he would comment,
but not do any work himself,
whenever asked to work,
he would point to his elite stage,
soon he forgot all about work,
and how it was done,
and why it was done,
his comments were heard still,
and they were outdated and wrong,
he now irked more than helped,
but he thought he was making lives,
soon they began talking back,
and check him now and then,
it was now clear that,
hje simply wanted to comment,
and take advantage of the state,
he was soon considered useless,
and now often ignored,
but his sound in murmur continued,
the murmur became like humming of mosquitoes,
they killed mosquitoes,
now they killed and buried him dead.

Work by Method

Method they cried,
and we all responded,
there was method in all he did,
they quoted him wide and far,
they all wished to emulate him,
but succeeded a little by far,
they had watched him for long,
he had first not noticed,
slowly he became aware of their gazes,
he now squirmed a little,
as they intensed further,
in their ruthless pursuit,
he now felt uncomfortable,
the day came when he put down tools,
shrugged shoulders and came cool,
said he cannot work,
under watching eyes,
agreed they wanted to learn,
but now it seems,
they simply want to watch,
and do no other work at all,
either by method or not.

Clown out of frowns

When he was young,
he was not strong,
other boys ran,
and called him less than man,
he was happy,
as they were zappy,
they teased him,
as he lost life,s vim,
they killed him inside,
chided him bad besides,
he could not play,
remained sad and unhappy,
as he grew,
more of this brew,
he had collected a lot,
inside like a big blot,
now when he grew older,
and sought job slightly bolder,
he decided to give,
what he could not receive,
happiness and gaiety,
all round,
and remove each sad frown,
he had turned a clown.

Sequel to Attraction of Opposites

Being different is not being opposites,
Then differences alone must attract,
We are curious no doubt,
And want to know more about each other,
Particularly when we are different,
But mostly that is on periphery,
And in fact we do not much bother,
About background and else,
What attracts is something else,
That is inside of us all,
It is the mental frequency,
On which we roll,
If that matches and attracts,
The match must be of opposite kind,
If opposites attract was to be true,
How mental frequencies roll on opposites,
That's to be seen and read,
Because it changes degrees as we age,
And reaches its high,
When we are dead,
However it's true,
That some attractions last till death.

Attraction of Opposites

Lets say I know you,
Perhaps you also know me,
How much I know you,
And how much of me you know,
That's entirely different,
Because we were born different,
We remained different,
We had likes and dislikes,
Some matched others did not,
We had tastes and distastes,
Some matched and others did not,
We had temperaments,
We had jobs,
We had families,
We had our incomes and wealth,
We even had our hobbies and pubs,
We even knew different set of people,
And that's quoting little,
We had differences,
Somewhere we met,
We had chemistry,
And we clicked,
We mostly clicked in our free times,
And in pubs and hotels and house dinners,
As yet we knew so little about each other,
It is strange,
That being different we attract,
Is it true that opposites attract?

Sequel to Sugar Crystals

It is alright,
to say that mix with humility,
and sweeten the fluid,
but behold his ego and hers,
their grudges and desires,
they all compete,
and are out to get each other,
they appear in fact mixing,
to ensure others fixing,
they make the fluid bitter and acidic,
it jumps boils and falls,
out of the receptacle,
we get it smudged all over us,
and we are also soon becoming fermented pus.

Sugar Crystal

If humanity lives in receptacles,
of houses,buildings and clubs,
and is like fluid,
mix in them like sugar crystals,
perfectly not to be found,
and sweetening it abound.

Right and Wrong

Justice is to vote for right,
and not to vote for wrong,
but what is right for one,
is wrong for the other,
in fact when they both did,
each thought that it was right,
in fact both did not know what was right,
they just did what their interest commanded,
they had turned almost blind in their interest,
to right and wrong,
as yet right and wrong,
were both defined,
as yet their advocates read further into them,
as they tried their own definitions,
now they had developed even interest for advocates,
who in their interest tried hard,
to make wrong appear right,
now they turned to judge,
who they expected,
would not from the right budge,
and in fact he did so,
and strongly voted for right,
and atleast once again established,
the society in the right.

Rose

Rose is a strange flower,
it is so beautiful to watch,
it is so colored,
that you feel there is hardly a match,
its petals are so soft,
that it gets nostrils on upper loft,
its fragrance is so uncommon,
that all other flowers,
appear to smell about the same,
why after all,
such an object,
ever got the security,
of those hundred thorns,
that keep its vigil and watch,
could we by genetic process,
develop a rose,
that has no thorns,
or softer ones,
which makes it more accessible,
if we could,
then perhaps rose would not be rose.

Cherry Picker

she picked cherries,
and sometimes even berries,
she worked in plantations,
in sun that often shone hard,
she cared little for winters,
that often took her apart,
she had become adept at that,
and earned her day wages flat,
her fingers and reflexes,
had developed,
to the condition of cherries,
and sometimes of berries,
at which they needed to be picked,
her work was just this,
when she was not in job,
she was in holiday bliss,
she had come to see life,
as berry and cherry,
and sure picked her way,
in her own fashion,
quite gay and merry.

Pupa To Sophomore

Gawky and awkward,
he had a crooked stance,
he startled at slight noise,
and gave furtive glance,
his legs were bowed,
and bowed further in his stand,
his body was lean,
and looked like a fresh bean,
swollen at places,
and vanishing at others,
his clothes too contoured thus,
they were illfitting and bad,
his students glasses slipped on nose bridge,
as his skin bore an unhealthy grudge,
he was only sixteen,
and alreday carried the full burden,
of getting all of above even,
I wondered at the nature,
that in its next ten years or more,
will make out of this ugly pupa,
a well bred sophomore.

The Ring Stone

That stone in my index finger,
placed royally as a ringer,
It shone sharp,
with every ray of falling light,
and to behold it was a sight,
my line reader had commended,
the stone to me,
that it will protect,
and ward the grave danger,
as well smaller ones it will detect,
the day I was on my saw machine,
there was something curious,
and to other side I was all preen,
the saw ran through my hand,
and chopped the index finger,
the finger lay severed,
ring still shone,
but this time it had not warned of the danger.

Have you seen her around

I am on her hunt,
she seems always on the run,
ahead of me,
and never with me,
did you see her?
her image in my mind,
eggs me on,
it allures me,
and makes me,
run on and on,
she that cares for me,
and loves me,
she who gels with me,
that which are with me,
are just with me,
they hardly mean much,
I have only kept them as such,
that who would be one,
with my soul,
and my being won,
is still not to be found,
have you seen her around.

Picked Value

Each morning you get up,
What do you hanker for,
Something of value,
Off course or on,
Otherwise the life is waste,
You want food of your like,
Fun that you do not dislike,
People who do not spike,
Money which come anyway despite,
Easy living in short for least effort,
The moment you see value,
You stop and measure competition,
If required you fight,
For the "right bite",
What do you get when you have the value,
For how long do you enjoy it,
It is ephemeral,
And temporal,
With time value recedes,
And it is only an also ran,
Now you are hankering for another value,
To me you appear like a rag picker,
Wandering streets for his value.

Injustice with Prejudice

Tell a lie,
A fact lay behind,
What's a fact,
Well most can go by it,
When they all see the difference,
They call you a liar,
In this case and sometimes,
They all can lie,
And present a story as fact,
While what you saw or felt,
Was disproven allright,
But it remained a fact,
You were known to have lied,
But they all knew,
And you as well,
That you spoke the truth,
This is injustice,
With full prejudice.

Life on a Trot

Done or not,
Are you a bot,
Till the time you catch a cot,
Doing leads sometimes to rot,
Mind the writing on dot,
You have a limited time spot,
Enjoy life on a trot.

Even Brain

Perplexed and in maze,
The stupor was there today,
And yesterday,
I do not foresee either a bright future,
If some knot gets resolved,
Two new come along,
Alas! Our lives are such puzzles,
That with peace we seldom snuggle,
We are busy in this and that,
And continue in the mirage,
Till we fall flat,
Our objects are clear,
Security,recognition and wealth,
And some times even the health,
Whenever we think of health,
We are taken in by physical calls,
We do not measure the torture,
That we are giving to our thinking aperture,
It is this slighted part,
Which stands right at the centre and heart,
You systematize it and even it out,
Rest will be a normal fall out.

Futile Fame

Bury me years from now,
And remember me then,
For something that I did,
It is almost everybody's refrain and bid,
Ask yourself why after all,
Should they remember you at all,
Are you not forcing them to your call,
What you did was now and here,
When it was needed and required,
Now that time has gone by you,
And the done was done,
And you are dead,
But still with greed one,
To be known and remembered forever,
What is the utility,
Your desire is in futility,
Even if you were reborn,
You are not bound to recognize,
Your own great deed done.

UTOPIA

Flowers fragrant and colorful,
Incense simply maddening,
All people smiling and playful,
No acrimony and no bitterness,
No disease and no scarcity,
Climate more than right,
There was nothing,
Asking anyone to fight,
Nobody was more,
And there was no chore,
All lived and lived happily,
Days went by rapidly,
There was no fear,
Or responsibility to bear,
Any body could pick up anything,
Used in either living or to eat,
Nobody ruled and none was ruled,
It was a family,
With no bounds,
Life went on straight,
Rather in rounds,
Years were added to average expectancy,
Old age came late,
This was the Utopia that still rests in my pate.

Age in Reflexes

My eyes went in reflex,
Somebody was zapping,
And a fly was flapping too,
Somebody again zoomed his hand as if to hit,
My eyes turned and closed on the scene gist,
In each situation reflex had worked,
Suddenly I thought,
My reflexes work best whenever my self interest is hurt,
Or is about to be hurt,
Otherwise I let go and do not care dirt,
Is our self interest woven with reflexes?
While self interest is defined and sort of software,
Iteratively augmenting and updating in brain,
Reflexes are about given hardware,
And there must be a point,
When reflexes cannot gel with self interest,
Now broadly defined,
And turn vapid and cold,
Is it the point when we say we have turned old?

Quarter of a Beast of Burden-Sequel

My cab drove on,
It had barely turned the corner,
Now I was amazed,
I saw a man do the beast of burden job,
It was a cycle rickshaw puller,
Who was doing the impossible holler,
To get the obstructions of his path,
He was sweating and loosing energy fast,
He was, yes, carrying the same type of load,
They were steel rods,
And I had not to have my mind in a goad,
To measure that burden was less than a quarter,
Of that which the beast helped charter,
By which it meant that human,
Is about a quarter of a beast,
However I did not know most of the rest of three quarters,
Of this human was also reduced to about that of the beast.

Beast of Burden

The equatorial sun was sharp and biting,
It had the mercury boiling,
The tar roads looked humid without being so,
Cars and traffic ran petulantly,
People were scared of burns,
Roads were deserted,
As most did not take up turns,
You did not need lenses,
For the sun to singe through your senses,
It went about that business moment you came under it,
I was on streets by default,
Moving in a cab,
Driver had stopped for a liquid dab,
And even the vehicle needed to spread its flab,
I caught sight of a beast,
A poor and miserable beast,
It was a beast of burden,
And in ill health at that,
A poor flogged burden carrying horse,
It was plodding heavy footed ,
A huge burden of steel rods,
Was pulled along in a heavy wooden cart,
The rods were long,
And wound in one loop,
But the beast had no hope,
Its persevering master,
Shouted and whipped,
As the skinny legs now crumpled and now ran,
I do not if horses sweat,
But if they do this was the situation,
Where he could have as well died by being bled,
But man was bound by his task,
And the beast a servant to his will,
If one could not rest,
He would not let the other rest as well,
They went on and on,
And away from my sight,
I wondered how long would that beast still fight.

Mare Travails

Trampling caused travails of a mare,
Now hopping like a piece of flubber,
While ambling with Sir Greyedalot,
When he had honored the stables yesterday,
She was taken out for a warm up,
And she had truly ambled out,
She was about to be spurred to gallop,
Suddenly she saw the one she had not in years,
It was majestic as it had walked in,
Knighthood of horses should be his and his alone,
That mien and that tail,
With a proud head he soared high,
Probably they had changed hand on him of recent,
But she already had a reason,
All she desired was to be by him,
So what if she had about his age sired in her a few times,
She had not galloped yesterday,
Till SirGreyedalot had walloped,
Which sored the travails,
Now on return she was bound in a corner stable,
Away from the new boy,
She now planned her protest,
And let them know her mind,
She was legging sleep that night,
Making her plans,
Came morning,
Her travails turned to wail,
As she was led out to be sold,
As she had grown old.

A Hand Lent

I stepped ahead,
Only to sink,
The ground was quicksand,
And up ahead marshy land,
The mire was viscid and fatal,
I was down till knees,
My hands rose up,
Looking for a grip,
I found only vacuum,
I was sinking for sure and prim,
My feet felt terribly soft,
As if they were planted aloft,
Inches grew on my legs,
I had seeped in till waist,
Now my legs were disconnected,
I felt the quagmire working faster,
It was enveloping like a body plaster,
I felt its weight on chest,
I began praying for the best,
My nostrils gave a shudder,
As foul gas geyser went up my nose,
As if climbing a ladder,
It was now neck,
My hand still raised for a heck,
I still cannot recall,
What the crap tasted like,
As it forced me in a bite,
It was about to blur my vision,
Suddenly somebody came,
And made the tragedy a game,
Soon I was pulled out,
And thanked them aloud,
Life still leaves me in similar states,
I still get somebody to heave my crate,
I wonder what might happen,
When we leave others flailing and flappin.

Related Family

You call them relations,
It is derived from the act of relating,
If two or more humans relate,
For a period of time,
They are said to be in a relation,
Life is time travel,
And we have traveled together for some time,
We all know,
Destination is where we began from,
However we have several other objectives,
We play with these objectives as we relate,
These objectives can be material and immaterial,
But definitely these serve as signposts in any relation,
They help us mingle and gel better,
Where these objectives are minimal,
As yet you relate deep to others,
Think of such "others as your family,
Whether by blood or not.

Lament of a Ghost

That day he could not forget,
He was in washroom getting wet,
A sharp pain rose in his chest,
He could only sit at best,
He could stand,
But the body lay there like a heap of sand,
He walked up to the wash to complete,
Soon realized that the water was obsolete,
He saw his sons and daughters gather,
And all broke in tears, cries and grief rather,
He tried to talk to them,
But soon realized that he had vanished ahem,
He cried and beat his chest with fists,
But they were busy and preparing the work list,
With heavy hearts they moved his listless body,
And known and related gathered for life rhapsody,
His procession walked through the streets,
He flew over it crying loud in a plead,
Please let me enter back,
And reclaim my rack,
Nobody listened,
With heavy hearts,
The procession hastened,
He had the comfort,
That they were still his cohorts,
Now they came to halt,
And put him down on asphalt,
He saw a piece of ground up heaved,
They had him lowered,
They were still beside him,
As he was lowered,
He saw them looking down from the rim,
They were placing flowers,
And things he loved,
Which they thought were no use and over,
He still with wet eyes stayed afloat,
They began to have the ground covered,
They began to disperse and leave,
He saw his dear children turn about and leave,
He shouted hoarse,
Don't leave me behind,
Take me along,
I am yours and can't be gone,
But the world is that way,
They left him in peace,
And simply left for the day.

Tranquility

My brain shook,
It had of late taken quite wavy matters,
The mental thought process had quaked,
And several thoughts mixed horribly bad,
In my berserk state,
I drove back home,
On the way fell a brook,
Which after a little distance formed a pond,
It was an idyllic spring day,
With lush green adorning the sides,
As with bewilderment I held the pond in sight,
Its water lay still and tranquil,
I stopped to even remove vehicle movement,
And came near to waters to stand,
From under the shadow of a big canopy of a tree,
I gazed deep in the water,
Its tranquility almost got in me,
And distracting my state,
There came a team of white majestic swans,
They swam silently in rhythm,
The water was almost unmoved,
With each stroke of a swan,
Which led the pack,
I almost fell in magic,
Each stroke seemed to unwind my one mental knot,
And believe me when the swans had swum,
To another edge of the pond,
It was an hour and more,
My mental agony had gone,
And in tranquility I was not many but one.

Nature's Palette of Colors

Colors abound around me,
Green, yellow, red, blue,
Purple, brown,
Black, brown and several hues,
And all are from nature,
It's a full palette of nature's colors,
Who wrote the codes for these colors?
Why were they needed at all?
We could have as well had a BW life,
And lead lives like pigeons in fact,
I am not a man of science,
But have read it a wee bit,
Somewhere we have explained,
That how some colors are used in nature?
But we have not catalogued far,
Perhaps each color serves a purpose,
A chemical,biological and survival one perhaps,
I am looking for the day,
When somebody someday might tell me,
Why so many colors here should be.

Bright Mud Dulled

The mud lay there quite unnoticed and unconcerned,
Till the day a wandering crafting potter came by and settled,
He dug out the mud, shook it and sieved it for use,
Soon it was gelled with humidity into paste,
The crafter got to work,
His hands and brain working,
Brain conjured and hands endured,
It came to shape,
A dull and just about recognizable shape,
Sun shone bright and potter used it,
As his trade tool,
He left the shape to dry in the sun,
He took golden and silver colors,
To enliven the shape,
Unmistakably the shape came to life,
His fellow artisans wowed in praise,
A furnace razed in his place,
To strengthen the dried shapes,
He put this shape too in the test of fire,
It came out almost as good as the lotus from mire,
It was loaded on donkey back for the village fair,
And I fancied it and bought it there,
It was good for my front yard,
Hanging there it was not mud,
It was all metallic and silver and gold,
It collected praise of several and stood ground for months,
Till the time a fiery storm caught my yard in full,
And dragged and broke the craft like a bull,
It now lay in pouring water,
Which seeped in its broken parts,
And chased away the already fading colors,
In the morning after storm,
I saw the craft in a heap of mud,
Mud had as if had its bright clothes shed,
It was mud then and mud now I mulled,
What was bright was now dulled.

Error in Lives

I cannot count beyond a limit,
So cannot you,
And almost everybody for that matter,
Our brains have a CPU that has limited counting abilities,
What would have happened if were able to count like computers,
We would have ended being too busy counting,
We have so much of counting and computing to be done,
As shown by the work we do on our counting machines,
Why were we given such limited fare,
And not endowed what we have endowed in our machines,
For one creator did not want us to be in his league,
With advanced counting and calculating abilities,
We would have done just that,
Or about as near as we could get,
For two the creator wanted us to be error prone,
Our learning curve essentially,
Is a series of experiments,
Think of a child, who learns now,
And works later as an adult,
How the child developed all those skills,
Remember he walked to the wrong room,
And was guided back to right place,
And he at first he did only prattle,
Till the time he was taught how to pronounce,
Even as adults error factor remains,
And in fact in this error factor,
We lead our whole lives,
When we do near perfection,
All we get is almighty's blissful benefaction.

Bird and Human

The beak was ajar,
And the little black body pulsated and pounded,
Crow was exhausted of flying,
It was perched on a house top edge,
I was sitting on the roof watching the birds,
And thoughtfully examining their roles,
In the scheme of nature,
And I had always thought,
In what manner birds,
Better us by far,
Before I could think any further,
The crow had sighted another reason,
And flew to another house top in seconds,
I immediately packed up my sitting retinue,
And came down,
I had got my answer,
And had seen the power behind migrations,
I had seen the bird better and much better than a human,
In at least one respect,
She could reach another house top,
In a time I could not match,
Indeed they are more free,
As they hop from tree to tree.

Sans Work

Sitting in window awn,
I took a deeply inhaled cleanser of a yawn,
It was just about dawn,
The day had begun,
And I had to do the daily run,
I wondered what I would gain,
If I dressed up and became a man,
And began the day in the main,
After all why do I do all this distance,
And come back to my clan,
Would it be possible if I could change my plan?
And simply rest with work sans,
What would change and go wrong,
If I sat without work and sang my song,
Suddenly came my spouse,
With her brood hugging her blouse,
She glared me up and down,
In a close uncomfortable browse,
She clicked me sharp and tight,
And sent me right to my website.

Unmindful Butterfly

The butterfly flew and flickered,
Her colored medley fully triggered,
She stopped at one bloom,
And was on second in a zoom,
Her wiry legs did the trick,
She was laying her own bricks,
I wondered if the butterfly knew,
How pretty she looked as she flew,
If she did was she proud,
Her hopping mad made it look loud,
But perhaps she was not,
She could look and had got,
Other flies in her sight,
Who were as much as she was bright,
She was only doing her chores,
Unmindful of competitive bores.

Clever Stupid Fox

The lithe body sprang,
She galloped and landed with bang,
She came in my sight,
I had come for a hike,
In the jungle,
To see animals wander and mingle,
Everybody says that foxes are shrewd,
But this one appeared to be bad and prude,
She had also sighted us,
But decided not to budge,
She was there staring with a hung jaw,
She even let several tasty deers pass raw,
She was taken by those who had intruded,
And my word clever fox was looking pretty stupid.

Shirts-Trousers as Sequel

Humble stone was intolerably warm,
That ice block was numbing cold,
Those nails were pining to pierce,
The poisonous worms and snakes in jungle,
Were ready to sink in their stocks,
I was to sit,squat,walkand run in these environs,
I squirmed to think,
What would have happened if,
We as a civilization,
Not invented our present avatar,
Below the waist garments,
Admirably represented by trousers,
In fact the day we developed awareness,
Of our crotches and what is contained therein,
We came to grab something to hide,
That we can now tailor and more,
Shows that we have not only leaped,
A mile in physical security,
But also developed abashed ness with abundant clarity.

Elixir

Elixir is elusive,
Imagine the crystalline, transparent and clear elixir,
Nowhere to be found,
It can do something that rejuvenates cells,
Deep inside,
Probably it has chat mode,
With weakened protoplasm,
And nourishes it in some way,
Such rejuvenated cells could at least makes you live,
Longer than anybody else,
While dying they would call you immortal,
Yes, where is that miracle liquid?
I wish you had some stock of it,
So that I could live longer,
Let me stop here and think,
Is my present longevity less,
Is it not better that I get a new body apparatus,
Do I want to continue with jaded circumstances?
Am I not looking for new?
Thinking hard,
I discover that elixir is within me,
I had my stock,
Now that I have depleted it,
I am looking to buy more on the block.

Past in Paper

Of late have you seen a newspaper?
Its fine sheaf of sheets,
Some mornings are incomplete but for it,
It is tucked under armpits of rushing office goers,
Its black and color print shout about the entire world,
Our needs our curiosity to know,
Are filled by it,
For me it's a certificate awarded to me,
That I have known another day,
That at day end we carelessly throw it in one corner,
And wait for next day's edition,
Shows how we take our lives,
Days simply slip by,
And the time gone is gone,
We never look back,even for lessons,
Try reading today's newspaper,
With those that came in last thirty days,
The entire world would sound more perfect,
And you would feel more intact.

Life's Account

Do you remember the day,
You were born,
Ridiculous you may say,
But surely your memories,
Got taped from sometime later after your birth,
Normally it is after several years,
Till the time you became capable of independent act,
Yes do you remember your first failure or success?
In whatever you sought,
And the events associated with such defeats and triumphs,
Most childhood are in majority happy,
Our tapes correspond pretty much,
With events small and alike,
As we turn for vocational pursuits,
It is said we have taken on the responsibilities,
Now count one ,two,three and four,
How many happy hours have you spent,
You could count honestly very finite hours very quick,
Now count one, two, three and four,
Hours you have remained perturbed and plagued,
It would take long for the count,
For your entire life would be with them abound,
You could also add monotony hours,
To either category,
And arrive at life's accounts,
If happiness was your object,
Did you get it in full?
No and definitely no you would say,
What went wrong ,where, when and because of whom?
In post facto you know,
But now your life is almost spent.

Criminal Target

They had a game,
A very dangerous one at that,
They had cornered one,
Who existed amongst them,
But did not have their trademark traits,
They were loathful,lazy,incompetent,
Liars,corrupt and resourceless,
They always looked for shortest way to easy money,
With their very limited capabilities,
And in fact he with sincere hardwork,
And capabilities presented a perfect target,
That he complained but little,
And was more of a perfect gentleman,
Made him the perfect victim,
They rallied behind him,
Only for entry and gains,
To and from places he had access,
And they had none,
After entry they,
Simply kicked him aside,
As they collected the rewards,
Of "entry besides,
The target was caught by next in mafia queue,
Who after entry kicked him back yet again,
The merciless buggers kept on doing this,
For god knows how many years,
Target grew old and tired,
Now some of them did say,
He is ours and belongs to us.

Back to Light

I was morose and sad,
The place looked and felt dull,
I was galled feet to skull,
There was nothing new to do,
Everything was just about no,
I was about to walk out,
And for it just turned about,
She walked in just then,
I am mature and grown up,
I have seen several like her,
But there was she,
She was alike them yet different,
Her perfect chiseled face,
Caught immediate attention,
Her face glow told of her inner health,
Her eyes shone bright,
And caught me breathless,
Her well kept hair cased her face,
Just as they should,
She oozed intelligence,
With profound maturity,
Her attire was perfect,
Without being vulgar,
Now as she greeted me,
Her teeth line shone in broad grin,
I felt as if the place had brightened,
I felt my soul rushing out to meet the light,
Now she spoke,
Ah! That sweet sonorous voice,
Completed the greetings,
As she walked me past,
I felt the light had passed me,
And truly turned back towards it.

Life and House-Sequel

What would I do with a larger canvas house,
I need about thirty square feet space to sleep,
And a little less to sit,
Perhaps a little more to walk as I rest inside,
Barring common area multiply the specific,
With the number comprising my family,
Adding it all up conjures a moderate canvas,
Why did I talk of a larger canvas,
If I was conscientious,
I would balance between need and other's needs,
What I occupy under my name,
Is preempted for others,
Though for most,
A living address is sole object of life,
And they want it as decent as it could be,
But need it be extravagant and wasteful,
A 5000 square feet apartment would be just too much,
Because I remember that when I am expended to full,
I would have about thirty square feet under the ground,
Which would also be outside my house,
To rest on and pull.

Waste War

Gory,bloody and gut wrenching,
Was the war,
Why do we go to war,
Or prepare for one,
We seem always prepared for one,
The money that could go to feed and clothe millions,
Gets converted to the steel and explosives of war,
Object of war is land and territory,
If we get a few square kilometers of it,
Would it make any difference?
To your and mine life,
Almost all of us, who fought the war,
Would be tired of the war if left alive,
And soon thereafter die in time,
In fact on closer thoughts,
It is not land or territory,
But it is mutual distrust of each other,
We have divided ourselves in several ways,
Sometimes we are from a country,
And at others we are of a religion,
Political divides are worst,
We have firm belief,
That if we are not ready with our guns,
Other kind would rule the roost at our cost,
At times we wish to snatch from unwary,
It's no end as a race,
But as an individual,
War of my times were a waste.

Life and House

Mason carefully layered the bricks,
And spread the building mix over it,
The wall stood up straight,
and in place,
he plastered them all,
soon he was raising roof and et al,
the house came in shape,
and was painted aglow,
building it or getting it built,
took about a year or so of my life,
I had only one regret,
Which reinforced with each layered brick,
That I could not plan my life,
as I had planned my house,
That had gone by so simply and systematically,
Had I done so,
My house would have been on a much bigger canvas.

Shrink having a lot-Sequel

One might say,
That no doubt I have shrunk,
In hard and dirty work,
But I have stored a lot,
For the posterity lot,
They would now rest easy,
And not shrink as fast,
However do think,
When you have shrunk and gone,
Your posterity,
Will not be yours,
And probably,
You may end up shrinking again for them,
Quite unrelatedly.

Shrink having a lot

How many things shrink?
With time,
A lot perhaps,
Is shrink a sign of decay,
Or simply something lessening,
Let us agree honorably that it is lessening,
How many things lessen,
With time,
A lot perhaps,
Is lessening a sign of reduced importance,
Or is it that we have expended a limited stock,
Let us agree honorably that it is expending,
How many things we expend,
With time,
A lot perhaps,
In the hope that we might get more,
More of everything perhaps,
May be that we do end up getting more,
And more of everything,
But what is the use when,
You are shrunk, lessened and expended.

Vanity Cruise-Sequel II

He had everything in private exclusivity.
Far from the maddening joyous crowd,
On the common deck,
When day slipped into night,
He could not know,
Because in his suite it was always day,
Suddenly he felt a large shake,
And dropped the expensive glass of champagne,
The crew did not even have the time,
To reach his place,
The storm had hit and hit bad,
It had broken the ship in two,
As the grounded lightening made it more bad,
The ship broke exactly where his suite lay,
He was inundated at the very first,
Soon ship sank,
And so did his vanity,
He had bequeathed,
His entire estate to his son,
Who years later,
Boarded the same cruise with as much vanity,
The day is awaited when his stock of vanity would be over,
And the ship will sink yet again all over.

Vanity Cruise-Sequel I

Garnet in necklace,
He picked the garland,
It was of marigold,
And was fresh,
As its perfume was not old,
On his index finger,
Shone the gold ring case with blue diamond,
His Gucci and maxim,
Reinforced his expensive perfume,
His two hound dogs barked their breed,
And so did his three body guards,
Well oiled and muscled,
And ready to protect for the moneys paid,
The captain bowed,
And took him aside to his exclusive lounge,
As he walked inside the cruise,
He barked in insolence his orders,
The captain simply stood shaking on lounge borders,
Soon he was shown his own suite,
Which was worth more than a loot,
He soon relaxed in his cosy cushions,
Not even feeling that the cruise had long begun.

Ragamuffin Clothes

Ragamuffin yanked the strands,
In free moves and active body acts,
Ajar and tattered,
Various colors spilled out,
He has been doing so in desperation,
Body cover was about gone,
More flesh glared out with each day,
Nobody instilled the sense to keep them intact,
There was in fact no necessity to do so,
Once absolutely worthless,
He could pick another mismatched pair just about anywhere,
Compare that with our sense,
Our schemata to acquire new,
As well as preserving old,
It is very different,
Is ragamuffin doing so because something about them,
He feels differently,
Or is the entire concept of clothing missing,
If it is then why,
He had a story to narrate,
As I heard him correlate,
I discovered life events do affect clothes,
Though in degrees,
And I wondered,
What will it take to get back,
The ragamuffin to normal clothes.

Emotional Body

My physical body is here,
You all can see and watch,
I too have its entire feel,
It is my identity and address,
However it is not all I have,
I have much more,
My physical body is finite,
I have an emotional body,
It wafts in the air around me,
Sometimes it is deep inside me,
And at others,
It is headed out to spread,
And affect all,
It has millions of states,
Joy,anger,melancholy,vacuum,
Greed, hatred, affection etc,
Form in permutations and combinations,
What happens inside of me ,
That my guts react to produce joy,
My joy probably rubs on environ,
Which also turns joyful?
Same is true for hatred etc,
Our object of emotions is mostly external,
And wherever they are,
Our emotional bodies run the full length and breadth,
It is only a few who have seen,
Such a body at close angles and understood,
Have you?

Anger

They were talking,
And agreeing,
In most talks,
You either agree or not,
I clearly saw,
When one disagreed,
The other person smirked,
And huffed and puffed,
What followed was a series,
Of disagreements,
With each one of them,
Both huffed puffed and gesticulated,
Suddenly they reached a point,
When their faces were red,
And fists clenched,
Both were shouting,
Suddenly one of them lifted a heavy object,
And threw across,
It hit the other one right in forehead,
Aggressor fled in fear,
I was watching it all,
And had seen it clear and tall,
Anger is flared but slowly,
When it peaks,
You probably cannot think,
And when you cannot think,
You do something ,
About which you did not think,
It is getting intoxicated,
And let the intoxicant,
Control you,
In fact it is not you who is angry,
But it is the anger that's you.

Third Abortion

Grumbling she cried,
Wanted was not there still,
Why after all was it kept away,
Who had interest in denying her,
She had made all her efforts to get it,
But as yet all had come to naught,
Her tears now swelled and spilled,
All saw them rolling down her cheeks,
With each tear she seemed to say,
I deserve that and give me that,
She was now crying hoarse,
And fell to ground,
Nobody could help,
She even fainted and passed out,
Somebody lifted her,
and sent her to her address,
saner and at home,
she thought that,
after all loss was not much,
she had aborted,
only third time.

Societies

Eyes shone bright,
And the furs were dull,
They had alert ears,
And jumping paws,
The litter was playful,
And gleeful,
They rallied around their mother,
As she protected her brood,
They were after all still half or less cats,
They had no courage to venture,
And kill,
So they pawed an ant or a fly,
In more of play than to fit their bill,
They fed or were fed,
I could not observe,
Neighbourhood kids had tied neck tethers,
In play and kept them so,
This was years back when I was home,
Years later when I did return,
I had forgotten the cat family,
Till I saw the tether around the neck of a full cat,
She was all by herself ,
And in the trade pretty active at that,
I thought by myself,
It was not only me as a human who had led life,
But the cat had had a full life too,
She was brought to adulthood,
And trained to fend for herself,
In fact she was probably,
Looking to have family of her own now,
Voila all societies do survive,
Ours as well as theirs.

My Calm

She was standing there,
Far off and aloof,
I could see all of her five feet four inches,
She was familiar,
Though she was still aloof,
She had not noticed me,
and was oblivious,
of not only me,
but of everybody else,
in fact nothing could possibly affect her,
surroundings,objects, sounds or emotions,
she was completely in her cocoon,
I could see from far,
that she was immersed,
deep in her thoughts,
something important was gnawing her,
from inside and she was all inside,
she appeared to me like that calm sheet of water,
that looks so beautiful lying in the jungle of humanity,
her calm was natural and a beauty,
disturbing her by catching her attention,
would be about throwing pebble in calm waters,
I did not want ripples on her face,
So instead I held me and my thoughts,
And went about searching for my calm.

Shirt

I looked at all I wore,
From waist up,
Wow how far we have come,
Fabric is made by industries,
Which employs so many,
When I buy it,
So many get food from income from it,
Branded hoopla notwithstanding,
The generic product does a lot,
Imagine walking without it,
In extreme summers, rains and cold,
What would have happened to skin?
And all that underneath,
It is such a protection,
From so many insects, flies and animals,
That I am forced to say,
I need a shirt,
Iron it and keep it in my tray.

Pile File

Work was there,
All lined up and piling,
I saw the pile,
And simply began to file,
Thought would do it later,
Though full was my platter,
Tomorrow came and more was loaded,
My courage now gave up,
As I nibbled a little work at around sup,
Next day more was there,
And I lost scruples and turned hay wire,
Now I could not even sort the pile,
Not to talk about getting it out,
The moment I looked at it,
My stomach turned and rose the bile,
I rued the day,
When I had begun to file.

Saved

Kid protested,
That he had to play,
He had played just enough,
Still he thought more was needed,
Probably he was right,
But he could not get the time in sight,
Jack was not dulling here,
For want of play,
But because of play,
Jack could just about fail,
I numbed his protest,
And made him hold the book,
He took the bitter pill,
And now says,
That he was saved.

Rainfall

The sun was merciless,
It hit real hard,
It had scorched till bones,
And was promising more,
The intense heat lighted the air,
Which cooled on wafting up,
Soon I saw clouds forming dark,
They now clashed bad,
As the lightening shone in yellow and red,
Drizzle began,
I was out,
It hit me light,
As I delighted with each wet patch,
The drops grew in size,
As the cloud was wrenched,
It now poured and poured,
Each part of me was wet,
I was not satisfied yet,
The rain had cooled me deep,
Outside and inside,
I felt as if my soul had been drenched too,
From the heat of this world,
Which was so sinful?
Don't you think,
That my thinking was so simple.

Glitter

Eyes blinded once more,
The greed sparkled in eyes,
The lure of lucre rose very very high,
Hand was raised for grabbing,
Several others came stopping,
We all had sighted the worth,
And were behind it tightening the girth,
They caught my outstretched hands,
I also threw out my most compelling bands,
Our legs came out for hits,
Each one of us in determination had lips bit,
Our palms moulded into boxes,
As we turned toxic,
All pell mell and broke loose,
We were hitting each other like mad moose,
We could have killed,
For the billed,
We did and the victor ran,
With the trophy in train,
As an after thought we solaced,
It was not our fate so the worth did not grace,
Soon we had sighted another glitter,
And in horde ran the greedy litter.

Machine Future

Machines scare you,
they do almost everything,
robot are now there,
which run the atomic plants,
computers are everywhere,
they are closing in on fast,
man is designing machines,
to do its repetitive tasks,
a day will come when machines,
would have the genetic interface,
they may grow muscles and bones,
and claim our place,
it is now only a thought,
a thought about as good as the one,
when we had thought about the machines,
that have come today and have run.

Non Hitting People

My wound happened,
when I was hit,
that happened when I quarrelled,
that happened when I differed,
that happened when we got together,
means that when humans get together,
we develop chances of getting wounds,
yes that is true,
how can we reduce chances,
of getting wounded,
do not differ,
do not quarrel,
do not hit,
or differ and quarrel,
but not hit,
Now my wound is healed,
now I am meeting,
differing and quarreling,
but only with those that would not hit.

Mean Humans

The rabbit ran,
a hare came from behind,
it was their pen,
and the accompanying ground,
they pranced and ran,
they dug and made burroughs,
they fought over carrots,
the white creatures looked simply pretty,
against the backdrop of grassy green,
suddenly the best of human came along,
a team of kids,
yes,a team of kids,
looking at the playful creatures,they thought let us also join,
they picked up stones,
and threw on them,
are'nt we humans pretty mean.

Failure Hit

With bated breath,
I was awaiting the outcome,
I knew it could be no or firm,
beleive me I was such an optimist,
that I kept thinking only of firm,
knowing pretty well what is the probability of firm,
that my expectations were aligned to the firm,
made that outcome far more valuable,
than the no about which I thought none,
When it came,
it hit like athud,
that the outcome was dud,
the outcome about which I had thought none,
was here right and now,
though I still had to comprehend it and know,
It took me a time before it sunk in,
but now I knew why failures hit us hard,
because we have not thought about them near and far.

Vital Trivial

It was trivial,
and everybody knew it,
it had been trivial ever since we knew it,
that day all changed,
the factors all conjured up,
and changed the way everything behaved,
trivial had suddenly turned most important,
We were now ruing the fact,
why did we call it trivial,
and not take care of it in fact,
trivial has now turned vital,
and the vital trivial,
and our tending has turned over,
while we are turning pages,
to find why things changed the way,
they had and turned mover.

Bear in Summers

rollicking in the snow,
the bear shrugged the thick fur,
those who had come to watch,
were all wrapped up,but the animal had the fur,
not wrapped but naturally affixed,
it had so much of fat lined up beneath,
winter could not have affected him,
but what he did in scorching summers,
probably he did not stay in hot climes,
i thought as the bear rung the neck chimes.

Tipsy Thought

Tripped and tipsy,
He stumbled along,
He had taken it again,
And taken it full,
Usually he was drunk at night,
And tonight was no exception,
His brain was at ease,
And he thought no more,
For he could not make it work,
Reduced to vegetable be struggled to bed,
Before he fell asleep fast,
His brain just worked,
And he thought why does he take it all,
At last.

Man-Agent-God

He stood there,
Pious and and all dressed up,
I offered my prayers,
and so did others,
each had an offering to the lord,
he accepted them on lord's behalf,
we also accepted it all,
that he was a messenger of lord,
and with prayers made several wishes to the fore,
Did you know that all of them were transmitted to lord,
Because I do not know,
Thoush the pious man had promised that I will be heard,
Time came for wishes to materialize,
For each wish ahs a time tag,
Nothing came about for good,
I was again in front of the pious man,
He was still accepting my offerings to the lord,
And assuring me that I will be heard.

Mind the Difference

Two hands,two legs,
Two eyes,one nose,
A belly,a head,
And pair of ears,
And a set of hairs,
We all have them,
Even inside lungs,heart,liver,
Stomach appear same,
Then why each one of us is unique,
Pore deep and simply look in our minds,
Which explains the partition and bind.

Dream Card

In dreams I saw it all,
Perfect lined up and all ajar,
I saw it clearly,
That things were going my way,
And there was nothing that barred the path,
I woke up and the dream was gone,
A situation like dream,
Soon came along,
But it was different,
Nothing went my way,
Till I worked hard,
Reality is different,
And is not from your dream card.

Opportunity Gone

Tarry and late,
He said time was gone,
And he should be gone too,
The opportunity is lost,
And let me try again,
And let the iron be hot again,
He waited and waited,
And waited for long,
The iron never got hot,
And he never got to try,
But he had known,
That an opportunity gone,
Is a chance gone,
And arrives back but rarely,
And it is more time he lost,
Than won

Black Sheep

Sheeps are moving,
In a herd,
They go each morning,
Under observation,
And in the evening,
Return back,
The kid who drives them,
Has to work hard,
With not all but one of them,
Who strays every now and the,
It moves away to pastures unknown,
And has to be brought back,
Whenever the kid is napping,
The lone sheep does so and more,
Once it locked horn,
And almost killed the other,
Only that the kid got up,
And sticked them away,
One day after many grazing days,
Kid returned back,
And told his mom,
Mom all sheep are white,
Except this one,
This is the black sheep.

Discovery

Look at that garden,
A well developed garden,
It has plants,bushes,climbers and creepers,
It has also numerous trees,
All of them are different from other,
One is having wide leaves,
And the other pointed narrow,
Some flowers are white,others red,blue and purple,
Some have fruits,
Others are barren for life,
Fruits are sweet,sour and bitter,
Why so much variety,
Does it serve any purpose,
Or is just there,
A random dance of nature,
Perhaps not,
It is a grand scheme,
With everything having an object,
It is we who are unawares,
And still discovering more.

Blown Ant

Ant said to Elephant,
It is said that I can kill you,
And for real good,
What good is your size,
When you cannot withstand a mice,
After all what you do ,
Uproot trees and eat plants,
Then go about on aimless walks,
When you are tired,
You simply dip yourself in cool mire,
For such a simple but weak life,
I do not know why the god has given you such a hefty body,
Elephant was abashed and had nothing to reply,
He thought and took a deep breath,
Unknowingly he let that breath loose,
Ant came in the way,
And was simply blown far away.

Light of Life

Gem shone,
Diamond sparkled,
Pearls gleamed,
Even the water drops sparkled,
All of them needed light,
To do so,
Without the light,
None of them would have done so,
Despite intrinsic quality to do so,
It is about the same in life,
In order to shine your efforts,
Some light must be there,
To highlight.

Paid for a Purpose

Burgundy,orange and yellow,
Were the colors of his flag,
He flew it high mast,
And fluttered it along,
He was at the vanguard shouting hard,
Rest of them followed,
As if protesting fast,
They were moving in mass,
And were a source of trouble,
The law was there,
Soon enough one of them bellowed,
Others rose the slogans,
Their object pierced the sky,
And let the immediate society in the know,
Suddenly there was commotion at the back of procession,
Soon melee broke out,
Law turned active punishing,
There was pell mell,
Injured,crushed and hurt,
They broke out in all directions in a spurt,
In the dead of the evening,
When the incident was gone,
They had all gathered in party office,
Man at the vanguard was sitting at the cash counter,
Paying all of them off.

Hustled Thanks

Amidst the din and bustle,
He simply went along,
He touched corners,
And as well crashed head long,
But he went and went along,
Sometimes he stopped to look at thing of interest,
At others he ignored everything all along,
The journey went on and on,
I was busy following him behind,
Not knowing for where he had began,
Barely keeping sight of him,
I tried and followed on,
Suddenly a melee of people came,
And he had disappeared for good,
I was aghast,
That hard work of an hour had come undone,
Suddenly he emerged from the crowd and carried on,
I hurried and plunged in now thin people headlong,
I ran really hard,
And almost caught with him,
He was unmindful of all and running along,
I finally caught his shirt sleeve,
And shoved him hard,
He looked back,
And glared hard,
Sorry,you had dropped your ten pounds and were gone,
Here it is please take it along,
He grabbed it hard,
And before I could hear his thanks,
He was gone.

Shy

She was demure,
And not like others,
A blush rose over her cheeks,
Whenever she was looked hard,
She spoke soft,
And did not bellow like others,
She was not heard often,
By those who in fact did not want to hear anybody,
But she was heard for fast by those who really wanted that,
She had tried to be like others,
But simply could not,
She could not grab, run and cry,
And gave a by to many opportunities with a smile wry,
If she was wool ,
How could she cohabit with wood and iron,
And she knew that,
So she chose her friends with care,
And their circle was small,
Soon she got a mate her type,
And gelled real well,
For life she remained simply like that.

Lotus and Pig

Lotus is a flower,
Everybody knows it,
It is a flower like none other,
That is also known,
Look carefully though,
It grows in grounds most fertile,
It is almost sunk in dirt,
Then how does it manage to remain so clean,
It has a character,
A smooth one at that,
It may swing with its anchor,
And come in contact with dirt,
But its walls are so smooth,
That dirt simply cannot stand,
And is simply washed off,
We have about as much if not more of dirt,
But are we lotus like to escape it,
No most of us wallow in dirt,
And live there in sputtering more over others,
We are all dirty,
And simply behave like pigs.

Walk to Food

In the still of night,
He got up from his street abode,
It was shivering cold,
And totally desolate,
His limbs were numb and stiff,
His tattered clothes barely hiding risen hairs underneath,
His teeth weak with dirt,
Began an almost unending clatter,
He took steps,
One or two,
His energy all drained out,
He was hungry for past four days,
And now could not bear the end of fifth,
He looked around,
With dimmed eyes,
Tear welling all right,
He could sight the garbage bin,
At about forty feet,
He needed twenty steps to it,
But had energy just for four,
With an effort he walked,
Ankles crumbling,
Heart sinking fast,
His mind was swirling,
Like a whirlpool,
All blood was drained to legs,
He kept on walking,
Now his eyes shut in protest,
He lost directions,
But his brain moved him at last,
With super human efforts,
He opened his eyes,
And with a bitter smile saw the garbage larder,
Smile could not complete,
And simply hung there,
He had collapsed,
And lay there dead.

Joust

Jousting is not done,
but he was adept at it,
I tried to learn,
but dropped most of it,
He showed me the sapphire,
and then a Zephyr,
and then his bag of tricks,
he told me if you see through the sapphire,
and catch the light through zephyr,
in a focus on jousting sticks,
a magic would happen,
and you would joust automatically,
without having to do so at all,
I kept on trying just that,
he made fool of me all the time,
one day he came and said,
if you can spare so much efforts,
on a tale to joust,
you probably would one day joust real well

Thread Bare

Other see it brighter,
and clerer,
I do not,
my vision is blurred,
be it an object,
or even an idea,
I see it slow and late,
not getting much of it,
at first go,
my brain warms to its presence,
gradually,
and then it comes in focus,
however sight is really on it,
suddenly a flash takes place,
bathing the entire stuff in amazing light,
this light is normally not generated,
and the subsequent perception is rare,
I almost lay t naked and thread bare.

Green

The green ran far,
I doo knot know how far,
as far as eye could see that far,
I ran and ran,
till I was panted bad,
but the green's end could not be seen,
I wanted to have all of the green,
because it was so fine,
and I had in year so much of it not seen,
there on horizon,
silhoutted now in sun shade,
I saw a herd graze,
they came near,
and were in graze,
I saw their slow moves,
as they savoured the tender grass green,
they had taught me a lesson,
and taught me real good,
green is far and wide,
walk leisurely and dont look for all,
it is okay if you enjoy only your side.,

God Story

Each country has a god,
and a story of him to go by,
some countries have many of both,
most in the world,
do read these stories,
and call them very pure and true,
containing miracles and odd,
Books containing these stories,
become too pure to carry,
and are kept on a high pedestal,
and recognized alongside lord,
wait a second and think it hard,
you go by the story and lord,
they are symbols pure,
and you give them a little time and no more,
the real purpose is lost,
god story was handed down to this year,
so that one could understand its real meaning,
and implement it now,
nobody meant them to be equipment,
of acquittal on each crime,
you read the book and pray to lord,
and your crime is gone,
and you go about doing next,
lord and his stroy,
had the message,
that the crimes need not be done.

Tree

That tree was not tree,
it was a giant,
for it spread so far and wide,
from point to point,
it shaded more,
than it allowed sunlight through,
all of them came from far and wide,
to get its view,
the tree was symbol of stability and patience,
its message was if you stand tall,
wearing summers,winters rains and all,
you do survive,
and grow up to be this size,
it sheltered so many down under,
as if telling all,
that a might has to save the weak,
from worldly thunders,
it also spoke in unison,
along with its shoots,
now almost trees,
that united we stand,
and alone we hit the grand stand.

Celebration

They were joyous,
when they heard,
that they have,
what for year they were looking for,
it was material and yes material,
material makes for most joy,
now they looked forward to get into it by far,
they went near it and saw it claer,
they jumped in happiness,
and called others,
to view it from near and not far,
all of them came,
and they goaded them to be happy,
as all smiled they began to dance,
somebody got the music on,
others got the wining and dining table on,
they were dancing and jumping,
yes they were celebrating,
and doing it so very hard,
material was consumed,
and nothing was left,
they began their hopes for few years more,
for a thicker bundle of material,
and planned to celebrate thereupon.

Saint

Have you,of late,seen and met a saint,
you must have seen a many,
but met a few,
and you must have known but one or two,
what did you get out of them,
if you were good enough to be perceptive,
you must have got really some,
look at their face,
and you have their thoughts,
their eyes have the power,
to convey and ready your layers,
they perceive yours conflicts,
in a jiffy,
and resolve them with their clarity,
as if they were not there at all,
yo come out of there,
where they sat,
as if cleansed and condensed,
your only trouble is that,
you get dirty soon enough thereafter,
and look forward to search another saint.

Danger

All life situations,
can be put in two,
one in which you feel safe,
and another where you are threatened,
ninety percent of life span,
is spent in sage mode,
and in the remaining ten,
you have threats,
ranging from big to none,
however in some lives,
one threat gets materialized,
and the life ends there and then,
only in such lives,
do we say he lived dangerously,
and therefore was gone.

Time Slot

Have you examined time,
at close angles,
we are in the habit,
of dividing it in slots,
there are slots in which we work,
and others which are important,
some slots overlap,
in which we work,
and they are important too,
have you logged such slots,
and totalled them up,
what proportion of 24 you do get,
you would be surprised to find,
its not even ten percent,
in cases most,
one would rather say,
opportunities are limited,
and come by few.

Hills to Street

The broad sky backing the mountain range,
The narrow electric wire strewn skyscape of my street,
The sprawling bungalow on the mountain slope,
The deeply nestled dinghy of my flat in a corner of my street,
The crystal clear water of the hill brooks,
The dirty water of the drains of my street,
The trees and greenery of the hills,
The painted and covered walls of my street with posters and bills,
The cool fresh air of the mountains,
The smoked blacked and nitrogenous pollution of my street,
For ten days in a year I went to live in hills,
For the remaining I returned to my street.

Lecher

Lascivious he was,
Crippled with avarice,
He had twinkling stars,
Shining in his eyes,
They called him lecher,
His face used to screw up in bravado,
As he went about his job of hounding "shes,
This years back when he was young,
I met him after several years,
He was no longer the same,
He still brightened up at "shes sight,
But was no longer on the same flight,
Now he recognized a fellow human,
And treated all of them like women.

Begun Well

She was scared at first,
And made it apparent,
It was her first day on concrete slab,
She was about couple of feel high,
As yet she hesitated before the dive,
I coaxed her to edge,
And made her plunge,
There was a loud splash of water,
And she was almost done,
Huffing and puffing she came out,
Swam to the edge,
As she climbed up,
Her face had lit up,
In inscrutable smile,
She had begun,
And begun real well.

Eat Better Live Better

Eat I did,
It is essential to sustain,
What was the menu,
Most of it was routine,
Some starch and some gelatin,
I usually grubbed it in scruff,
Psyche was satisfied but in usual manner,
One day I came across real cool stuff,
Each morsel was a delight,
It made the eating so light,
I partook one and went for more,
Its consumption seem to bring latent energy to fore,
After I was done,
I felt full of energy and really as number one,
I made it a point,
That we eat to live,
But we eat better to live better-as well.

Dime of Time

The snake slithered past the bush,
It was open and free,
They all shivered in fear,
At his sight,
They thought it might come around,
And leave a sting with a nasty bite,
They rushed to protected areas,
Soon a charmer came along,
He looked for the snake in the bushes,
And found him slithering there,
He did his usual routine,
And got him in the bag right there,
He brought him home,
Only to make him tame,
He did so in a few days,
And held soon a street show,
Snake was now the star performer,
The very people who were scared,
Now rounded his show to watch,
It was only a matter of time,
That as free it was worth millions ,
And now only a thrown dime.

Brood

She told them so,
And they heard it so,
Now she still tells them
But they hear some of it so,
And the rest they hear as they want to,
She has still not stopped telling them,
Now they hear a part and not hear another,
Rest they hear as they like,
She still tells them,
Now they hear her no more,
They have now more to tell her,
She has understood that they have grown,
And she is on top understood,
By almost all of her brood.

Departure

Entwined in close embrace,
Her body surface kissing his,
Their lips sealed hard together,
As they clutched hands,
Their hairs dishevelled by ,
Flying thoughts of separation,
Their eyes had a tear well,
Their faces were flushed bright,
By the only fright,
And it came now,
They loosened the embrace,
Unlocked the kiss,
And separated hands,
As they stepped in opposites,
Their brains rang the bell,
Tears fell like rain drops,
And they cried out,
Silently and not aloud,
With eyes focused on each other,
They took steps back,
The son was as emotional,
As was the mother.

Ephemeral Life

I lay there under the tree,
A leaf fell from above,
I looked up,
It was start of the autumn,
As another one was wafting down,
I picked the one which was already in my hand,
It was dry and yellow parched to end,
The one that came thereafter ,
Was about the same,
Life is ephemeral,
One day you are born,
And another you are dead.

Beautiful Animal

That animal looked beautiful from far,
Leonine tip to tail,
Hairy like hell,
Teeth glistening sharp canines,
Eyes sharp like mean,
It swung its hairs,
To ward off the flies and insects,
Suddenly it sighted a prey,
And broke into a growl and bark,
It tip toed to strategy,
And now jumped for the finality,
Kill was fast and clinical,
Sheer was more quick,
Soon it was feeding on,
And I could not decide,
Which was more beautiful,
The lion or deer it had killed.

Freed River

Snow melted,
And water flowed,
It was a small stream,
More of it came from four other streams,
It was now river,
It cut across valleys,
And made ways,
It meandered to new alleyways,
It brought along lot of fishes,
And submerged many a land of riches,
Knowing its fury when it rained,
Guys got about restraining its stand,
They built a dam across it,
And also got its water to give energy,
When it flowed across,
It touched towns and villages gross,
They came to worship it as their mother,
At the same they filled her with dirt,
Till she could not breathe,
And was choked and smothered,
She even now had water,
But its color and content had changed,
Laden with weight,
It now had a timorous stand,
It groaned under the weight,
Only parts of it evaporated,
And got the freedom to rest.

Twins

They were twins,
Not expected to be so,
They came as surprise,
Allen was John,
and vice versa,
From then on,
Even parents,
Were quite unprepared,
They had expected one,
But got two,
That often delayed their recognition,
As to who was who.

Recognition

She daintly lifted the brush,
And applied the last finishing blush,
She had already shimmering attire on,
Now she slunged carousingly the costly fur also on,
The gong rang for her,
And she alerted her steps to stage,
The moment she entered,
She turned her steps to a confident languor,
Timorously she began to move her body,
And swing to the music,
As the music changed the strand,
They clapped as she hastened with music,
She threw all of that they did not want,
Music got louder,
And she was just standing there with nothing on,
They clapped and clapped,
She had satisfied men's need,
She professionally heard her closing gong,
And was gone,
Back in her make up room,
She carefully peeled off the layers of her face,
And put her normal dress on,
Outside the hotel portico,
As she was about to drive back home,
One of front benchers came forward,
And said,
Pardon miss what is a girl doing here,
Did you accompany some one or come alone.

Day long Morning

I gazed at the morning sky,
The blue azure was still intact,
The white clouds billowed softly here and there,
A gentle cool breeze wafted across,
Trees swayed in acknowledgment,
As if inviting me out,
I strolled to the pasture that lay just behind,
The grass was wet with humidity,
As I walked naked foot all along,
Flowers were rising in bushes,
In anticipation of sun,
The fruits on trees also awaited another day of ripening,
Suddenly the sun rose in the sky,
And began warming all around,
What would follow I knew all along,
I hastened back thinking hard,
How nice it would be if such a morning,
Could last the entire day long.

Read

Reading can be thus and more,
I took a magazine to discover more,
My eyes riveted on page one,
Messages flew to my brain,
Prioritizing the things that were on,
I chose that were of importance and interest,
Benchmark for both were already fed in the brain,
I read each word of such paras,
Adjusting sight of eye full length,
The mind comprehended each word,
Till its read value was registered in,
For the rest when the eye shifted on them,
Messages flew to my brain,
That what I was about to read,
Was of no interest or importance,
At the back of the mind it also had the obligation,
Nevertheless to read full on,
So lazily eyes flitted across fast,
Reading half words and comprehending just the broad mean,
I flipped and flipped doing about the same,
Now I know what it is to read to get on.

Pine Cone

The pine cone,
The wooden pine cone,
The brown pine cone,
Had a long story to narrate,
Its parent tree grew along a hill slope,
Fruit was born on its node,
When tree was about twenty feet long,
It began as a green soft nodal presence,
Loads of nutrient soon came along,
Sun shone bright,
And air zoomed to and fro,
The parent sucked all the water it could,
Days went fast,
And fruit began catching with youth fast,
Soon it had acquired fleshy arms,
Spread in conical splendor,
It now hung down,
Sun now shone real bright,
Bathing it day and night,
Tanned and tanned,
With nutrients flowing to new and fledgling,
The fruit had turned mature,
Its tether to the parent was also not so sure,
Winds blew one day hard,
And the pine cone came hurtling down,
It lay there unattended by mountain folks,
And was scraped again and again by the nature,
Till the time I came along,
And picked it up for its pristine beauty,
All of this and more,
Was told to me by the cone,
As it hung in my living room to decorate.

Pauper

She was asking for alms,
Tattered clothes and weakened arms,
Her eyes dimmed deep in self pity,
She was asking help from all the folks in the city,
She was taken for granted,
By those who knew her peculiar awkward walk that was slanted,
God knows how much she collected,
However seeking help everyday she had perfected,
I had been a visitor to her area for days,
All through January to May,
One day she came to me,
She said O! big man give me a coin and let me be,
I caught her hand,
And took her to car stand,
There I made her an offer,
Work for me and be a citizen proper,
She got free from me with amazing force,
And said in voice that was thick and hoarse,
Citizen proper I had been for long,
Now you have my offer join me and be a pauper.

Smile

Something happened,
Which made me smile,
Yes made me smile,
My eyes lit up,
And blood rushed softly to my cheeks,
My lips aroused in a purse a wee bit,
And my cheek muscles all spread out,
And electric current ran from me to others,
As if by infection all felt the same,
And began to smile,
It lasted for minutes before we were shut back to normal,
Since it was such an experience,
Why can't such things happen every moment,
Which makes us smile and feel more potent.

Smirk

Smirk followed the view,
I had seen it clear,
It was distasteful and abhorring,
I simply did not want it,
Nevertheless it was happening,
Nose screwed and facial muscles contracted,
My ears were drawn alert to hear something bad,
My eyes narrowed down to pupils,
As eyelids tried to shut the distasteful view,
My brain registered the bad data,
And made me tense from tip to toe,
Are smirks needed?
That depreciates you so bad,
And put you through so much stress,
Well it appears that smirk or not,
Is dependent on you,
Happenings would happen as they would,
Because life activities you cannot control and harness.

Tear

Tear fell down,
Another welled,
And slipped to surface,
It also fell down,
Before I could contain,
The well sent in a train,
Each fell like a healthy grain,
One concerned softly murmured,
What has gone wrong are you hurt,
Another joined in to soothe,
I looked up and said,
Folks do not worry,
And look down here at the onion,
That I am trying to cut.

Fate

He was laughing and dancing,
And so were his near and dear ones,
He had achieved what no one else had done,
He had been rewarded,
And duly so,
They had called him to honor him,
And sent him a round trip air ticket,
Merrily he departed on the journey day,
The flight was long,
And he felt really good,
He imagined the laurels they would heap,
Suddenly the plane gave a jerk,
It swerved and shook,
And took a dive for the down deep,
His laurels were going down,
And so was he,
The last thought he had before crashing to death,
It was fate and let it be that.

Boy

She nimbly entered his room,
He was there all alone,
All two feet of him,
His chubby cheeks shone in the sunlight,
As his little thick arms,
Gesticulated to pick toys,
His legs wanted to be on move,
But he had not learnt to walk,
He was happy and so was she,
She watched him in parental pride,
Admiring his each move,
He appeared so innocent and fragile,
She would have been transfixed there for long,
However he started to cry.

Move

Move and move,
Move in a amble and in rush,
Hurry up and move,
Running, walking and in motion,
That's all that they had the notion,
Wait and pause,
Have you thought?
What you are rushing about,
Is it because the next door you see is moving,
That you also want to move,
Remember the times you rushed,
And simply ended in a bush,
And getting nothing rued the fact,
Now think well before you move,
If at all you have to.

Semblance

I saw her from aside,
Her face was darkened by shadow ,
That fell from the bulb above,
I could not sight her clear and straight,
Nevertheless the outline seemed familiar,
I bent down and tried to focus,
Only as far as she thought that I was not odd,
Wow she was known and known to me for sure,
She was my sister and I was sure,
Why did then she not talk to me,
She had also seen me for true,
Even she exuded the aura,
That I associated with my sister,
A strange feeling enveloped me,
Talking to stranger is not my forte,
But she was not a stranger,
However as I did try to open my mouth,
I thought she may not be but I was a stranger to her,
She bore a semblance for me,
but I did not for her,
so I kept quiet,
and looked away from her.

Familiarity

Familiarity breeds contempt,
This is true but only as exception,
Where familiarity is relation of dependence,
Where it is formed out of group living,
Instances of contempt are there,
But they are far less than other happy/normal instances,
Where we live together in abandon,
Supporting each other,
And even awaiting another moment of contempt,
Here familiarity no doubt bred contempt but then,
It bred more familiarity all along.

Sky Limit

Sky was limit,
They said,
He had excelled all along,
And made them said that,
He kept on climbing,
They still said that,
For him sky was the limit,
He zoomed in his career,
And became an astronaut,
And now for him even the sky was not the limit.

My Piece of Sky

I lived in that old mansion,
It had a verandah,
Face to sky and open,
I returned tired after day's hard work,
After taking my supper,
I would set up a bed,
In that verandah to lounge and rest,
I would stare up in the sky,
And look at the bejeweled spectacle,
Watch the stars,
And imagine the distance,
My eyes were focusing on,
It gave me an immense peace,
As I looked and contemplated with my piece of sky,
Soon thereafter I used to fall asleep.

Insight

I looked in the mirror,
And saw my reflection,
I had been trying hard to look through it,
I always wondered what lay on the other side,
Everybody knew what lay on the other side,
It was a dead end,
But I am sure that I did,
One day I saw an alleyway,
In the mirror,
Which had a bend,
I could not see beyond the turn,
But the mirror promised that it would be soon,
Today also I was trying that,
Suddenly I went beyond that turn,
And saw inside alleyway,
It was a full endless alleyway,
With thousands of mirrors fixed on all sides,
Naturally you have guessed right,
What I saw inside,
Was my own very face,
From various angles and sides,
Giving me the full insight.

Life Candle

Candle was lit,
It shone bright,
Flame flickered with naughty air,
The wax melted and burned,
As it fell down,
Making an uneven mound,
The wick also turned black,
And to ashes and fell down in wax,
Our lives are also same,
We are lit and do shine,
We die as much as our "wick does,
We mellow and melt with ages,
And spread on the ground,
When dead,
As an uneven mound.

Earth Sphere

If our earth was not round,
We would have gone till an edge,
And flipped over,
How did this sphere shape come about,
So well measured and so well thought out,
Who did these calculations?
And what for?
They say that natural forces got about the act,
To get us this far to such a comfortable fact,
I have my doubts,
I still think of the shape,
And think of an omnipotent,
With a measuring tape.

Winters

Raising finger caused pain,
Because the clotted blood inside cracked,
As the finger straightened,
So was true with full body parts,
Outside the temperature was in minus,
Taking in of water was done with a view,
That nothing could be lost out,
Your stomach was well preserved in the cold,
I wore a warm inner and then more warm clothes,
Overcoat and et al till clothes,
Exceeded body weight,
Working anything was tough as exposed hands numbed,
And looked to hold something hot,
I tried and put on everything,
That could bring temperature to that of room,
All work suffered from cold,
And could not be done as was to be,
It was winters and always so,
Nature was hostile and man tried to adapt,
Earth was revolving the way it did,
And possibly I could not help.

Summers

It was scorching, humid and suffocating,
It was the day,
More I moved the more I sweated,
The machine turned warm and heated in no time,
Loosing sweat water was as much as taking it in cold,
Eating food became necessary only for survival,
Whatever lay in stomach fermented,
And fermented real fast in heat,
Raising gases all over body cavity,
Which was already roasted from outside,
I threw out all clothes that were not required,
And put on all aids that could cool the environ down,
I was tense and fought with jagged spirit,
All work suffered from heat,
And could not be done as was to be,
It was summer and always so,
Nature was hostile and man tried to adapt,
Earth was revolving the way it did,
And possibly I could not help.

Snow fall

Flakes fell,
White like I know nothing off,
I was slumped in their mound,
My back had made a seat for me in there,
As the mound was soft,
I had a warm overcoat with cap on,
They were falling over the cap and all over,
Gathering on my surface and that nearby,
Slightly cold and soothing,
Numbing hand if held for long,
I tried examining by naked eyes,
Saw the flakes were in fact particles,
Nice soft small particles,
I simply lay there seeing them fall,
After an hour they had taken over all,
And all was pure pure white,
Now I knew why such a fall,
Always makes people go for a ball,
They gather to see the color change,
In a snowfall.

Called and not

Pristine silence in behemothical space,
They were all there present right now,
All lips were sealed and not a word slipped from them,
Breaths were bated and exhaled suffused,
If ventilated air hastened over normal,
They startled quite fast,
However none could show they were startled,
Only iris moved from east to west,
They dared not move iris north to south,
Even movement of body hairs they could feel,
While they waited for the call,
Drop of needle would have been noise pollution,
Some prayed and others had varied images,
Only one thought bound them in commonality,
Let this not be there call,
Hours went by and the moment came,
Somebody stood up and began the roll call,
Some collapsed on chairs others were dragged after their call,
Others who escaped now broke into joyous yells,
Guards told them that they were not,
And they could go,
They took on their feet,
And ran not taking a second look at those called.

Dug Dagger

Sordid and heinous,
For a few units of money and matter,
They all took out the dagger,
And dug it deep into innocent heart,
That had worked and toiled for that little money and matter,
In the glitter and greed they forgot the blood,
They had drawn out,
As they enjoyed the loot,
Time went by,
Now they were used to such episodes,
They looted and enjoyed,
One fine day a stronger group took over,
And made them a target,
Whatever they had looted,
Was looted from them,
They somehow escaped the dagger,
However now they are targets,
And loot others while escaping their own looters,
Everybody seems to be on the run,
That they were looted have not drawn sense into them,
They are only waiting for the final dagger to be dug in them.

Hire and Fire

That man had nothing to offer,
They kept him on the sides,
Sides were farther from the centre,
He realized as he was pushed towards them,
As days went along,
He drew the circumference, on which he moved,
The length of the radius he stood on,
Elongated and spread out,
Previously he was in thick,
Now the population was thin,
One fine day the board on which his circle was drawn tilted,
And he was thrown out of the circle,
But as the board straightened level,
It had brought in several others right to the centre,
It was only time before some of them were moved to sides,
And thrown out.

Diminutive

Moon cooled the breezy night,
Its golden glaze made one realize it was full,
There was one little star just beneath the moon,
Moon lorded over it majestically,
As star shone in its insignificant light,
That one could notice it,
Was good enough for the star,
As it snuggled underneath the huge moon,
All of us knew all along,
That the star was bigger than hundred thousands of moons put together,
But it maintained its distance and kept its profile low,
Probably in real life too this appears to be a desirable rule,
Significance lies in the able keeping distance and in being diminutive,
Rather than do inflated flaunt bawdily and do nothing when it comes to task.

Rest the Brain

Pondering over this and that,
Mind simply did not work,
Everything fell quite flat,
It had been worked too much,
I do agree to full,
But it also could not remain such,
I could feel the heated pate,
As I pulled in a deep breath,
which was hitherto in a bate,
a exhaustive exhale out,
I felt it had calmed and cooled a bit,
A second later it was full of thoughts on full sprout.

Changing Canvas

I was in jungle,
Deep woods with plenty of dense green,
A meandering river flowed through the middle,
And there was a rocky terrain well caved on its west bound,
The pathways were skewed and well spread,
Made only of original mud,
There were animals, birds and more of them,
Spread everywhere,
They had homes, vistas and what not,
I was ambling swooshing in mounds of free oxygen,
Careful of not encountering anything hostile or feline,
Suddenly my companion saw the "tree,
They said it was the oldest with girth running almost free,
I said may be it was older than a century or two,
They replied perhaps it was older,
And the jungle was before it in temporal yonder,
I picked one leaf which had fallen from a wild tree,
And thought and saw as far as my eyes could see,
How many times this tree had sent down fallen leaves,
Before it was born,
How many more of trees were born and perished,
Before this tree was born,
Here there is a an ant mound and there you have serpentine abode,
Deers have their dry grasses thrashed out,
Peacocks look out for small bushes to nest in,
Wild boars wander around and rest in thrushed burroughs,
Foxes are placed in small stony holes,
While felines couch on trees,
Or choose the more spacious caves,
Everything is spread out randomly,
As if by some kind of animal will,
The canvas of nature has this drawing for centuries,
And it has remained so,
While in the same interregnum,
We humans have graduated from being animals,
And totally changed the drawing on canvas.

Lost in Trust

Trust me he said,
I told him that I really do,
He never intended keeping the trust,
And I also knew it for sure,
Mutual distrust became the real object,
We now trusted each other,
While both waited for betrayal,
I looked for the day I saw signs of him reneging,
He watched out for same in me,
The day he reneged,
I was already prepared,
And had gone back on my stand earlier,
We both calculated losses and gains,
Won or lost,
Pocketing our gains and losses,
We went in search of more people,
Who could "trust us with more,
Soon enough we came yet again face to face,
And got trusting each other again,
When in fact distrust was the main theme,
With new losses and gains,
We still laughed,
And did not let anybody out,
Know the real refrain,
We both had losses very many times,
And each loss caused a pain,
But we did not stop trusting each other,
Till the time one of us was vanquished and gone.

Touch and Go

Touch is just that,
Have you done that?
Your kids you sure did,
Your wife also gets physical,
Perhaps you have done that with near ones and friends,
But how many of others,
Do we touch and feel,
If I was blind I would have legitimate authority,
To touch and feel,
Now that I have two eyes,
My touch and feel are controlled,
Barring above people,
Others when I touch they look askance,
It is too familiar for them,
When you were far and not near,
Touch is for familiar and known,
Despite the fact that we have grown,
In numbers and crowd the room,
We remain still far,
Avoiding touches,
If they do try to reach your skin,
All you do is walk out of the room,
Leaving the door ajar.

Vital caused Dust

One exterior and another,
If they are on the same shape,
Have breadth between them,
Skin to skin,
We are measured for,
It cannot go much far,
Say we are about a foot or less on a scale bar,
Skin has a layer underneath,
And body parts, muscles, vessels, veins and bones,
Lie there still more beneath,
All exteriors envelope us on all sides,
We are three dimensional,
And can be measured in cubics besides,
Is it all we have of ourselves?
Or there is more,
Can I feel my lung work?
Or heart beat,
Or my stomachs churn,
Perhaps I can feel some parts,
And perhaps not most,
But the factory works on and on,
The physical interior is thus known true and well,
But do we know the depth of the "real well,
Mind states run in billions,
Sitting here I can be away a million miles,
Atop the highest mountain peak,
In the densest of jungles,
And wading in deepest of rivers,
I can think of abstract plane,
Perhaps as much as I do on physical plane,
Mind makes the cubics inadequate,
As it runs the physical factory,
It stimulates the vital one,
Its states interact with vital force,
Kept in concentrated form,
Interiors run into billions,
And most of them are blessed,
With interaction with the vital,
The day it escapes and rarifies,
Your three dimensions collapse into dust.

Simple like a Bird

The bird chirped on a twig,
Nice little home bird,
That we find around us in numbers large,
Neat little bird,
That goes about its business wide and far,
Its puny body, thin legs and soft wings,
Have a simple running brain,
Catching the worm,
Dousing thirst,
And nesting at best,
When reproducing,
It probably does it to perpetuate,
Perhaps it also enjoys the act,
Or treats it like hunger,
Once multiplied it tends for younger,
Catching a worm or two or more,
Some of us have perhaps seen them giving flight lessons as well,
And when and how it dies an uncelebrated death,
Nobody knows,
Perhaps the young ones she tended,
Also do not mourn her or perhaps they do,
I am not so sure,
She now stopped chirping and took off,
As she soared high in the peak of its life,
On an intended flight,
Oaring air troughs far and wide,
I saw it against the backdrop of blue sky,
Though I could not fly,
But perhaps I could be as simple as her.

Wish Prison

I wished and wished more and wished more,
I yearned and longed still more,
What I was looking for held me tight,
Roped round and for good,
To the place and to the people,
And to the material,
That could provide me just that,
I got a little of it now,
And a little later a little more,
This only roused the fire,
And I wished more and more,
I was drawn in the vortex,
As the whirlpool swirled fast,
All the people,places and material swirled round me,
That could give me a little more,
I could see with clarity,
That there were alternatives,
But inertia and whirl kept me there,
My life was now this only and of this a little more,
All of our lives are just that,
We all fix to one,two or more,
And we want a little now and little later,
Of this one ,two or more,
Of these things that we longed for,
It is a prison and pretty good at that,
Its key to freedom is rarely found,
And all of keep swirling,
Wanting still more.

Interview

Four of them were to be together,
three on one side,
and one on another,
the three came on time,
and so did the one,
the three sat opposite,
to where the one sat down,
they began talking,
one on one to one,
one listened and looked,
thought and crooked,
he said upright and forth,
which came to him and as it came to him,
the three nodded and agreed,
another of the three now spoke,
to the one who sat opposite,
he again listened and racked,
gave in to a reply fast,
his knowledge was really vast,
they again nodded and nodded hard,
third of the three had thought,
by now as to what he was to ask,
he now rattled it across,
to see the one catch it fast,
one got about the business,
delivered the cargo,
they nodded,
and one was ushered out,
the Interview was over,
and in next three,
our one took over.

Men & Women Girls& Boys

Men will be men,
the women said,
women cannot but go about their way,
said the men,
we are talking about men and women,
and not about boys and girls,
mind you there is vast difference,
not only of years,
but of things,
that make men men and boys boys,
and still lot more things,
that make women women and girls girls,
one girl was opining as above to other,
there was a group of boys mixed in there,
who agreed heartily to all that girl had said,
suddenly a man came accompanied by a woman,
so the girls and boys thought,
because they thought as such about those,
from whom they were taught,
teachers-one male and another female,
came rushing and shouted alound,
Voila,boys and Voila girls,
why do you stand here,
doing just nothing,
look at all that left in school day,
and follow us running,
panting and gasping,
as they ran behind,
all of them agreed,
girls& boys are more different than men&women,
more then ever before.

The Need

The dog barked ,
and its puppies yelped,
I was raised,
mulling my eyes,
I got out,
something was definitely wrong,
the winter bit in my bed clothes,
and crapped through legs deep in,
shaking my head,
to drop the drowse,
I began to look for my glasses,
and frantically browsed,
getting them on table,
I put them on,
and went to the door,
cranking it ajar,
I stepped to the kennel,
only to find,
that nothing was wrong,
the canine family,
simply needed more of flannel.

Well Done

I was not to do this,
this was simply not done,
at this time and day,
because if done,
this would have you undone,
but I did this right on,
and did it with focus and energy,
effort after effort,
before I could reach a quarter way,
and more concentration before I was half way,
I was exhausted till I was done,
they came running and milling,
to check if I was undone,
they found me panting and yet not undone,
then they looked at what I had done,
they all said it is exquisite,
and buddy well done,
I had set the trend,
now they were all doing it one by one.

Saltless Tears

Tear are salty,
Mine are not,
I did swallow them twice,
Never did they taste thus,
I cannot warrant for all times,
But for these two times I can say for sure,
What went inside wrong?
And the salt did not quite come out with them,
I cannot comprehend full,
But I can say for sure,
That the events which caused them,
Were so full of acidic brine and salt,
That probably tears felt ashamed,
And left their salt behind.

Surviving a day's Rain

Good sky,clear day sky,
Grew darker by minutes,
As clouds made woolly figurines of all kinds,
Visibility fell low as sunlight hid behind,
Day was near about dusky night,
Lightening flashed like sword swashes,
Clouds clashed making rending thundering sound,
Winds whistled like fast and mad,
I was just about in the street,
Way away from where I had to be,
Cats and dogs rained and not the other way round,
As if all the pouring water was aiming for flood,
Wet till soaked deep inside,
And till limbs grew numb by cold,
I said to my wet inside,
Weathers of this kind abound in life,
Thank your hidden day stars,
That you after all did survive.

The Screw

I was collecting the clutter,
In the attic of my life,
Here was the big holed nut,
That had proven too big for all screws,
Here was that long nail,
That had its cap chipped,
And,yes here was that screw,
That had rusted bad enough to fit,
And there was that ply board,
That had bloated with humidity,
And had layers all ajar,
Voila here ,yes here, is that precious "screw,
If it had fitted its hole in time,
All this clutter,would not have been there
For me to collect from the attic of my life.

Strung

did they say I was,
high and bad strung,
muscular convulsions were going awry,
it was deep inside,
skin was yet plain and clean,
they said it would have,
rashes before anything could relax,
and turn red and would also get strung,
mind also probably was convulsed,
it did not know that it too was strung,
would it be fatal,
for now,
or if it happened again and again,
why did I get strung,
no I cannot think,
as mind is strung,
and gets more so,
if I think how I got strung.

Inertia

Stay and stay put,
Sloth for an hour and one more thereafter,
One must know that there is always tomorrow,
You are at rest and tend to stay so,
Sometimes entire lives are spent in inertia,
We have set events followed by inertia,
The routine never changes and is inertia itself,
Do ponder what breaks inertia,
And gets you moving,
Hardly anything,
In the time frame you have,
You basically end,
Where you did begin.

Askance

To look askance,
is a real weird body stance,
thought meeting the eye,
for each staring eye,
conveyed violence of sorts,
sight rays clashed and hurt bad,
but then looking askance,
is furtive and shy,
sometimes remorseful,
and at some others hiding plain lies,
how did eye movements got into reflexes,
I wished it was not so much on its own,
and rather in my control,
so that I can look askance,
when I normally now do not.

Journey

Color filled the vacuum,
Vacuum filled color,
It was nothing and everything,
Matter was there and yet not there,
Real was unreal and unreal real,
Air blew in soft moves,
As yet I felt it was space,
I was neither dreaming,
Nor was I sleeping tight,
It was day time,
And the sun shone bright,
They were all around me in their abodes,
With their matter and material,
But I just did not have them around,
They simply existed and did not as well,
I was in deep,
And do not know what was deep,
May be it was brain,
But it cannot be that shallow,
Perhaps it was spirit,
It was out on a move,
On a real wild move,
It was surging with speed,
As yet it was all struck up down there,
I was not I still I was I,
Light shone brightly at the undefined time,
That thing surging from me was merged in that light,
It bathed and bathed in its purity,
Till I broke and resumed my normal chores.

Damned

Vast skies tenting to infinity,
Belittling my little petty vanity,.
The free air surged across wide,
Giving direction to those that lacked as if a perfect guide,
I ranted and raved with my woolly neurons,
Things were not right and terribly gone,
I mad like waived and looked,
I fell free and was not tethered to any hook,
The earth felt cold and aloof,
Even from the inside of my leather boots,
No one was in sight,
To whom I could relate my fright,
Alone and terribly so,
It all encouraged my uncertainty to grow,
Puzzled, perplexed to no end,
Questions did not get the answers bent,
They were all straight,
And questions were not caught,
Confused and afraid of loss,
I decided on a coin toss,
With each toss I moved one step,
Knowing that it might be wrong perhaps,
I kept on doing that,
Till I did not stumble and fall flat,
It went on for long,
Sometimes I walked straight and at others oblong,
I would be damned and real bad at that,
That finally I did reach the other end and lay on the mat.

God doing ungodly acts

he was walking along amiably,
unconcerned and all alone,
a group of unknown mafia came along,
an began cajoling teasing him on,
in more ways than one,
he ignored them to full and went about his way,
looking to get out of their way as quick as he could,
they were out to have their kind of "fun",
and they began to go about getting just that,
they shoved him,
he looked back and glared at them,
they narrowed on him,
and crowded around and cornered him,
they were many he was one,
their circle was complete and he was at centre,
one of them slapped him,
the other kicked him,
he cried in pain as affected parts swelled,
he cried them to break the ring and let him away,
two of them hurt him with sticks,
another used a knife,
blood started flowing from many parts,
as he grimaced ,shrieked and fought in pain,
now they had him down and were beating him to no end,
they broke his teeth and many bones,
he had by now lost litres of blood and was going to loose still some,
in this meelee no one noticed that he had drawn,
a black trigger from somewhere down his pant,
as soon as they saw the glint of steel,
they tried to snatch it away from him,
but when they could not,
they simply widened the ring and stood up ready to flee,
before they could flee or turn around,
he had pulled the trigger as many times,
and had them on the ground,
tell me did he do any wrong,
no he probably did what god would have done.

First sequel god doing ungodly things

like a civil gentleman,
he was drowned in their violence,
and had no will or power to save or protest,
he fell and fell so good,
that he could not see his own epitaph,
like we all are not able to.

Second sequel to god doing ungodly acts

some passersby took courage,
and saw a helpless him,
and came forward challenging,
listening to their challenge,
somemore gathered around,
till they outnumbered the mafia,
looking at so many coming to help,
mafia ran alongonlyto find someone else,
as helpless and as innocent,
he,on his part,wassent to hospital,
and treated for long,
two or three limbs he had lost forever,
and other did work now and then,
other mafias that came across him in future,
left him all alone,
as he had nothing left to cajole and make fun of,
as he already carried their stamp.

Brooding

Darker thoughts envelop me rapidly,
as I look at brighter things,
it is like an unending tunnel,
dark ,long and unwinding,
where from crevices I do see the light,
which beckons me hard as an allurement,
but I am confounded by distance to it,
and the "dark" distance to it to be more precise,
suddendly acold gust blows fast in face,
reminding me that it is not only dark and long,but also cold,
in the tunnel that faces me ahead,
in hope of light and warmth I keep going -on and on,
as darker and "darker still" thoughts envelop me fast,
as I think of brightness past and ahead.

Random Sleep

He tried to move but could not,
he felt for good that he was in bed,
his mind clearly confirmed that it was so,
was it the soft cosyness of the bed linen,
or that in the cold morning soft sun made a paralysing impact,
or that the mind did not foresee anything pressing or hard,
or was it that he did not sleep enough as per biorythm,
and still wanted to keep stuck to bed,
but his eyes were wide ajar,
and mind was sharp,near rather than afar,
most of that he had thought,
did not fit in with the logic ,
any thing that was not logical was rarely done,
it was normality of logic that had prevailed so far,
or was it that insomnia was spreading in "batches" to morning,
which was physical and had to be confirmed when it struck the next morning yet again and again and again,
how does he explain it all now and keep the pain,
of adjusting to it in entirety,
as he thought all this and was going for more,
his mind ached and pained really hard,
he was after all "adjusting" with the "uncommon" event,
and trusted that he could and really do so,
presto! he felt groggy and fell to sleep,
till he was woken again in the afternoon for another day

Variety

Going in the awn was a teary yawn,
it began right from the dawn,
and remained till the dusk was drawn,
life seemed to have no object,
and my "self" was geting abject and abject,
I swam without any current or effort,
had no relationships or human rapport,
it was really very very mechanical,
the way day passed was hey! so very typical,
it had set hours and set minutes even sconds were set right,
to force anything in the schedule was making it dirt tight,
tedium hit me hard and boredom broke me down,
is it called a set rather well set life,
that you do about the same without torn and any strife,
yes strife,if it were to strike something would be different,
at least we could deal with it and say that it made the difference,
now that place,people,time,furniture,roads etc repeat themselves,
I do silently pray and pray really hard that let tommorow
not be yesterday's repeat,
and God,yes let it be slightly different.

Modern Waste

Train winded whistling and chugging,
leaving behind the city concrete,
it swiftly lunged into the green expanse,
fresh air blew ,trees swayed ,
as the blue yonder and bright sun,
set the terrific backdrop to the moving,
eyes do seldom settle on all but for a fleeting moment,
Mine did so accordingly and several times,
I noticed city concrete was behind,
but organic links of city concrete,
to the bucolic and rural was still there,
stood loftily in the green expanse,
were huge steel girders supporting,
the intricate network of high tension ,high voltage electric wires,
all of a sudden reminding one that in years this would also be city concrete,
suddenly in a flashmy eyes stilled on adark chlrophylled tree,
silhoutted and outline majestically in the green field,
It was a lonesome and noticeably big tree in that expanse,
but that was not what caught my attention for sharp,
It was the clique of white large bucking swans,
that had flown to rest after a laborious swim,
from a nearby pond and sat relaxing for breath,
that caught me sharp and really sharp,
the clique almost formed a pure white outline,
to the dark chlorophylled tree top,
near to the tree ran the straights of high tension,high voltage electric wires,
before I could swallow the beauty of flutterings swans,
one of them flew hard and staright into the electric wire,
there was a loud flash of electric current and twith a last life leaving flutter,
the swan crashed to the ground dead,
the train chugged winded along unconcerned,
but me sitting inside the train was stirred to shaking,
I had witnessed just now how modernity had wasted the nature,
and would do so till it is all completely gone.

SPACE THAT YOU OCCUPY

Tone the hue a little lighter,
Believe me its so very murky to sight,
The dark cloud envelopes all you do,
And no one can possibly get a clue,
Its almost apparent that¦.,
When you do hide all and sundry,
And slip away from locales unnoticed,
In the sheer hope that they will search for you thereafter,
Perhaps shattered expectations have not been teacher enough,
Did they ever call you from behind,
And look for you,
Perhaps more often than not they did not,
Your "tonnes of caution and whispers,
Did not even produce a difference of an "ounce for them,
It was just about the same had you been freer and open,
And made full bold use of all situations and kinds,
Why sit tight and leave space for others,
Society has given you much more,
Go ahead and run the full shore.

SEQUEL IV TO BURNING OF CAMPHOR

I had to have the camphor essence,
Not much was required of me,
I just picked a bought crystal,
And set it ablaze,
But the animates that you are testing,
Are not "bought' abinitio by you,
They assess you and your "fire,
And if they find,
That you have not come up the same way,
And are just pretending to be thus,
Lighting a fire which is not just that,
They would blow the fire out in your face,
And you will be left,
Only with acrid smoke,
and a fractured credibility,
which is impossible to mend and repair.

SEQUEL III TO BURNING OF CAMPHOR

The camphor was burnt in a spoon all right,
But the fire did set it ablaze,
For inanimate camphor the fire was,
Good enough to burn it to ashes,
But for animate it cannot be so,
For survival is their biggest instinct,
So "fire has to be fine tuned,
To set a generally acceptable hurdle gate,
And those who cross it fast and first,
Must get from your bag the best,
Now it probably would be too hard,
To conclude that,
To show your real worth,
You must be burnt to dust,
And if somebody attempts you with that,
Then he is not testing your worth,
He in fact is destroying you to a certain death.

SEQUEL II TO BURNING OF CAMPHOR

I had burned camphor all right,
Did I do so in my bare hands,
No I burnt it contained in a spoon,
Spoon also took the heat and,
Contributed nothing short,
For production of the essence of camphor,
But spoon was just taken for granted,
It was inanimate and took all the heat,
Now extend it to animates,
Who surround the particular animate,
Whose worth you are about to assess,
They also feel the heat,
And start running the very first second ,
They feel the heat,
Exposing the target animate,
To your direct blow of heat,
Now run,stand and take it on depends only upon,
As to how much of it he can take.

SEQUEL I TO BURNING OF CAMPHOR

Camphor had to burn to ashes,
To make known its heavenly worth,
But did I realize for once,
That it was inanimate,
And could not escape the fire,
That I set it ablaze with,
It is all together different with animate,
You can "burnthem deep enough,
To vet the rewards they are angling for,
However no reward compares to extinction,
Faced with it animate is going to run,
Human or otherwise,
And run farther than you could think,
Away from point of extinction,
And you could probably say,
With disdain,
That he could not withstand the heat,
And thereby just did not deserve the "seat,
Also you might go out and search,
To the nearest available of runaways,
Collar him hard and fast,
And say you did not run much and thereby are the best.

BURNING OF CAMPHOR

The crystalline camphor felt hard enough,
As I palmed it before igniting,
Fire was brought near,
And it burnt really all right,
Spreading that heavenly vapor,
It filled my nostrils and senses,
To no end,
It was in this desirable stupor of vapor,
That I realized,
That the hard camphor had to burn,
And yeah,burn right to ashes,
To make everybody feel its essence,
It was kind of humbled to death,
For me to assess its worth,
Say its true for us all,
Humbled we all must be,
Even if just about near death,
Only then do we get the world,
To know our real worth.

Third sequel to god doing ungodly acts

as they thrashed him bad,
law enforcers saw the meelee somewhere along,
they came rushing forward to help matters along,
the moment they saw the mafia,
they smiled and shook hands,
for they were a long acquaintance,
only difference between the two was that of uniform,
he was caught and charged for attacking and thrashing the mafia,
he spent next few days in prison where he was thrashed more than mafia had done,
he now avoided mafias and law enforcers alike,
though he still continued to pray to god with his battered soul and self.

Fourth sequel to god doing ungodly acts

you can sure add a situation or two,
and show variable results for the same innocent soul,
but think for a little,
and deep inside,
do each of us not have a clear understanding inside,
as to what is fair and what is not,
even as a group of homogeneous people,
we have this understanding and often do bring it to fore,
if it is not brought thus should we not,
why do we need laws and enforcers,
this understanding is just about enough to ensure,
that all situtions involving us are fair,
if a group will is unfair is it fair to impose it on one or other groups,
if we exercise minimum restraint in our behaviour,
let me assure you we will be acting as god,
be it sequel one,two,three or four.

Wants and More Wants

I had three of that particular thing,
One I had purchased some years back,
And was not using it as it was old,
Though it still did all that a new one could,
The other I had purchased because I liked its shell,
But used it hardly ever and kept it stocked,
The third I had bought just a few days back,
And was using it to the full,
Then suddenly another model of that thing appeared in market,
All around me wanted to have just a unit of it,
Were I to be left behind,
Certainly no,I had to have it,
I perhaps did not even have money to purchase it,
But I was ready to borrow to get that fourth number,
Of a thing whose earlier three just about did the same work,
It happens with me all the time,
That I make multiple purchases of an item,
And keep them still,
Using one more than the others,
God alone knows as to do I ever plan their usage,
If it grows old I may even consign it to garbage,
This fourth one made me think,
As I write this and more,
That had I continued with just the first acquired,
Till it broke bad and/or technology changed radically,
I would have saved at least on two,
But who is saving for whom,
Not me for myself at least,
For if it were so,
I wouldn't have purchased second,third and fourth at all,
I think the loss is a societal loss,
I preempted three units which would have been better used,
By those who had none of it,
So I decided just about then,
That my decision is to be based on fact,
That if I have one or more,
That works as well ,
Than I am gonna leave the purchase unmade,
And concentrate resources on that which I do not have,
Sellers had to cry and cry aloud through media of all sorts,
Boy ! you are not doing right,
But hurting our cause,
We are concerned with sales and you are just about making them tough,
Earlier we could make you the second sale,
Now we have to make it first miles away,
Please do not do so and behave all right,
Clarity,however,had seeped deep in the consumer in me,
Who now refused to budge,
Even if it meant taking world's sellers' grudge.

Evil Forces

Why do we do that we call "bad later on,
If we had known in advance had we done it,
Perhaps yes and perhaps no,
If perhaps yes then we like to do bad,
If perhaps no and as yet we do repeat it sooner than later,
Then also we like to do bad,
But are afraid to admit so,
That we like and as well dislike to do bad,
But as yet bad gets done day in and day out,
Only indicates that some really do like to do bad,
These have gone even as far as saying that,
If bad was not done who would know what is good,
They forget that bad is relative,
If bad is in fact good then it is no longer bad,
And also if what was bad yesterday is good today then it is so today,
But good any day can be recognized far and wide,
In fact if we eliminate bad some of the good can be rated bad tomorrow,
If today's good becomes tomorrow's bad,
Are we not moving the right way?
All religions and preaching simply say do not do bad,
They even go far to define bad,
And list perhaps thousands of evils,
Are we all agreed that all of these are evils of today,
Jealousy,hatred,prevarication,discrimination,unfair acts,
Theft,stealing,violence,greed and crimes-the list goes on and on,
Unfortunately the list has remained so for so long,
That we recognize it too well,
Have we ever thought of bettering this list,
And generically improving it to include "good of today,
No as humanity we have stayed where we were,
Goverened and commanded by same evil forces so far.

High Seas of Inner Self

Each occasion I thought I was potent and energetic,
I sure did a service to myself,
As it seeped and soaked deep inside,
It gave me a fillip and I floated along,
Sometimes for a short while and others for long,
It must have done about the same for you,
But do you remember what made you think thus at all,
Try and try hard so that you could collect several such instances,
And compare them well,
You would notice and I have done about the same,
That such instance were all preceded by a "success of some sort,
"Success here is broadly defined,
And means just that you got what you set your heart and mind on,
So far so good,
Now try and focus on the short and/or long pauses in between any two such potent feelings,
When you did not succeed and "failed,
"Failed here is again simply defined as not getting whatever you set your heart and mind on,
The "failure began this pause,
Am I right you sure would say yes?
Your last "success and your last "failure,
Both as defined above,
Were actually troughing and waving your inner self,
And threw out a brew,
For you to bloody well chew,
If the " high of success was better than the "low of failure,
You still felt "high but knew that something was getting wrong,
You said to yourself that the brew is more sweet than bitter,
And still merrily carried along,
It is more critical as to how did you feel and behave in the duration of pause,
Particularly when another failure was eating your inner fast,
Were you still on a "high that was reducing fast?
For how long the "high remained "high,
And did you notice when it famished to a "low,
And what you did when it was a well known "low,
Were you able to work, talk, eat, drink, sleep, party just normally,
Normally is defined simply when overall "high still exceeds overall "low,
But not by much,
If you did all that was to be done just about normally,
Then my friend make a habit of doing just that,
Swim along to stay afloat till you grab on to another "float,
For it is in these "pauses, troughs and waves,
That I have seen several lives,
Drown to early deaths in the "high seas of their inner self.

Redemption

I was helpless and directionless,
looked everywhere for someone to rescue me,
from my dilemma and confusion,
I even had no bargaining power and influence,
and merely looked for help as alms ,
she came in all of a sudden,
and got me out of all I was caught in,
effortlessly and with no expectations,
and moved on before I could utter thanks,
I am back to normal and lead the life as full,
with so many of years behind me,
I am now well stood,
I have only a hope left,
that if she comes along anywhere,
or anybody else placed similarly as I was,
I would go forward and do the required good,
and consider the redemption done.

Doomsday

They wanted it all new,
They blew it with dynamite,
The guys knew their job,
And did it pretty right,
It was wired all and everywhere,
They did not want to leave space of a hair,
Having done that to perfection,
They went for the switch,
And press it hard they did,
And the blast blew the lid,
Professionals they were,
And the work was done that way,
Lid blew but others around were as were,
So long as you blow an old building,
It's about the right way to do,
You get all of them out,
And blow it all apart,
Build afresh and call them back in,
However if you want to rebuild the earth,
Can you do about just the same?
Where would you evacuate,
And what will you wire,
Where would you stand with your switch?
And live past enough to see it all go

THE SQUARE PEG

If you are a square peg,
You would roll on with difficulty,
If on one side you would remain so,
Till somebody kicks you,
Fast enough to get on the other side,
Even then you may not know for sure,
That you come back to the same side,
As before the kick,
You would also not fit holes,
That exceed your diagonal length,
Again people will have to hammer you in,
To fit in such holes,
If you fall in a bigger hole,
You are more hapless than most,
Who would enter the same hole,
As you have entered,
And in that hole ,
You would remain put,
On the same side,
As you fell in,
And perhaps spend your life resting so,
So how about sawing your corners off,
And getting a rounded shape,
The more you saw all corners,
The more rounded you get,
Imagine the rounded freedom,
Now you move on your own,
And do not need to be kicked,
Now you sense each part of the earth,
Where you roll on majestically,
Even if you have holes that are smallet,
Than your diameter,
Chances are that you could enter,
With slight lubrication and all,
In bigger holes,
You would now fall,
With the guarantee,
That you would experience,
The hole full and well.

THE ZERO

The zero was zero,
I saw it clearly,
however it appeared so big and huge,
that it enveloped me all and good,
I could see its outlinings,
if I stretched my eyes far and wide,
for hundred of hours I saw the outline in parts,
it was only with a super human effort that I saw the circle in full,
somebody had told me if you could see the "zero" then you had seen the reason,
but they had also explained that the "zero" must be reduced to naught,
as much as that it disappeared in oblivion,
dissolved with the maker,
merged in God,
now I had a terrible state on hand,
the zero enveloped me and was so big,
how was it to be shrunk,
it was another effort for me to realize,
that I was the centre of this big zero,
the day I realized this,
it dawned on me that if I "shrunk" myself,
then at least I could have shrunk the circle by as much,
it took me a super human effort for me,
to realize what I was and what I am,
and it was really excruciating and hard,
to realize as to what I could reduce and by what measure,
another hard worked discovery was the process by which to reduce,
and I began working on the new set of hard gained discoveries right away,
to my surprise and to utter surprise,
I saw it hard and clear,
that the more I reduced of myself,
not only the centre reduced by as much,
but also the outer envelope reduced by much more,
now I am on my way to "minute" and almighty,
do not ask me what I chose to reduce,
rather ask it to yourself.

UNNOTICED DEATH OF A BEGGAR

The roads were deserted and the night dark,
The dogs roamed randomly as you heard them bark,
It was cold as if bones would stiffen and break,
Everybody seemed inside safe not willing for any move to make,
I was out in the open with skin shivering white,
My clothes were few and torn as I held them tight,
I had not eaten for two or more days,
And yes the street dogs were behind me on full bay,
I hurried along the cold and desolate concrete cast,
As they closed in on me fast,
I began to run against the cold wind blast,
As I ran they too hastened behind,
Their open ajar mouths and glistening canines no longer looking kind,
I knew they would catch on with my pants,
However fast I ran with gasping pant,
Their howls were growing louder and nearer,
I knew them to ruthless with powers for a perfect shear,
Perhaps they had also not eaten for time,
Like I had not in the absence of even a single dime,
As I thought of climbing some height,
A sharp canine sunk in behind forming a painful bite,
Soon there was another and another,
Now down and feeble with hunger I saw them around me in a gather,
As they cracked, barked and sunk in me,
I lost sense and allowed me to be just be,
I do not know as I write this if I am alive,
Probably death has just struck me for sure making its attempt five,
Earlier four I had escaped its fatal dagger,
The day is dawning and people moving and moving things,
I cannot see myself among them,
As my dead carcass lie there in a pool of bloody scum,
I am now sure its an unnoticed death of another beggar.

Clutter

I had a tough day,
so many places,situations,people,things,
and transactions to receive and pay,
that I forgot which was what,when and where,
it was all cacophony,
whether I heard it here or there,
All shrilled at first nagging me hard,
It was all mental,
there was no real singing bard,
As I grew tired of making meaning,
nothing came up for clear,
the shrill turned into thick preening,
I still tried to hear the important ones,
unimportant mixed in badly jammed,
They were all different from original tones,
As my energy sapped further,
and the mind grew numb,
the cacophony was a hum growing farther,
finally I succumbed to a sleepy brain,
dreams came about which I could not hear,
in an unending train,
the memory tapes were not erased,
they remained as they were,
yesterday's clutter would tomorrow still graze.

Fermented Nerd

This is not what forms in stomach,
and goes through the intestines,
to be ejected as waste,
This is something that is formed,
by a union of brain,heart and soul,
it rests about there ,
alternating residences now and then,
it is formed at about the time,
you made your first conscious adult thought,
it comprises of ego,anger,lust,hatred,falsehood,
ignorance,jealously,laziness and dishonesty,
it is to name a only a few,
of its attributes,
normally other attributes come along to,
ferment it real well,
My body odours are distinct,
but you could not stand the odour,
of this nerd,
this odour grows more pungent and nauseating,
as I move along in age,
the odour can be felt and not smelt,
it is peculiar of its odour alone,
the odour slowly pervades,
the heart,brain and soul,
till they send it to all body parts,
a day comes when body/soul stop their journey,
part killed by this odour,
but the emanating nerd remains,
and is interred with remains.

Frozen

the heat was intense,
the burn was fast ,quick and big,
the raze went inside with deep sense,
the temperatue rose and rose,
till all matter began transforming,
everything stayed in same position and pose,
it could not move,
so also I could not,
my body burned and burned in groove,
the tissues,muscles and bones,
all got scorched and black,
where fire was merciful it was brown,
acrid smell and smoke went up,
inside the nostrils,
they could not smell,
as their powers were also burnt up,
suddenly I felt a cold wave,
rising from deep inside,
it was smooth and fast and no chance it gave,
it spread so fast that chill could not be felt,
it ran past fast both side of belt,
as I fell,
I had the last thought,
that it was not fire,
but that I was frozen still.

Venomous fangs

fang and sharp ones,
with venom fatal,
waiting for sighting prey,
the moment it came in view,
fangs moved in space and time,
the brain controlling movements,
of fangs had a simple motive,
hunger or enemy,
cried the brain tissues,
though it could not distinguish between the two,
fangs moved nearer,
with sleight and trick,
so that prey could not guess what was coming about,
this was also inbuilt in the brain moving fangs,
distance got shorter,
call was about just there,
fangs got just about there,
they recoiled in energy,
making to a decisive sink,
in a lightening move,
the attack was made,
and fangs felt the warm flesh slide by side,
as they sunk in deep,
as if in orgasmic pleasure,
the venom flowed free,
fangs waited for venom to work,
the target was immobilized,
and probably dead,
fangs stood there withdrawing,
not knowing what it was,
hunger or an enemy dead.

Roots

It began at the top,
Slowly ,steadily and truly,quite not perceptibly,
The depreciation in matter,
Human matter at that,
Does it with all,age spares none,
Bones,muscles,blood,veins,arteries,parts,
All weaken and function less,
But can you weaken the bond,
Mental,emotional and love bonds,
That got hinged to one and all in family,
And immediate society at large,
It happened with me one day,
That my mother depreciated real bad,
The day she collapsed,
Physical I could explain,
But mental and emotional I could not,
The root had shrunk to dust,
But the offshoot was now a full tree,
Going to its own death.

Street Kids

The ground was hard mud,
A lot of water and dung,
Had dried over it in suds,
It was cool in summers,
And shivered in winters,
Inner bones getting hammers,
Adults are thus,
They have seen a lot,
And cannot complain much,
It was the two tender ones,
That caught my eyes,
Lying huddled in a corner like chums,
Warmth flowing in between,
Life brought them close,
When playing they were apart with envy green,
However the freeze was another matter,
It needed all heat their body could ooze,
From out of tattered clothes,
Which they could hardly choose,
They were born on streets,
To parents unknown,
No one to know and birthdays to greet,
It was not known,
When they learned to stand and walk,
And when at young age they had grown,
Grown ill and weak,
Day's misery and ill health ran along,
Often they had little to eat,
Famished stomach and heart,
Can beat the hell out of many,
Not to talk of kids up without mother or nanny,
And then it was this bitter cold,
I wondered they might die,
Without growing old,
A reverse scene must be true,
When they suffered heat,
They had after all seen it and grew,
Their systems had inured,
A many times good and bad,
Now they do not complain and brood,
What was their fault,
That they could not opt,
And prevail with powers that be,
To make their births soft,
How many of them will make,
Without education or health,
Good citizens on their take,
Or be counted like many,
Petty help hands/criminals,
On the look out for little money.

Long Foot

I had walked till yesterday,
with mormal gait and steady,
today I find a little difficulty,
as I strut along rocky,
it seems I am not the same,
as I used to be,
but have turned different,
not sure but may be,
yesterday's today became long days past today,
as I suffered now real bad,
each day gait became tougher,
now as I look back,
it was almost hopper,
now that I stood higher on one leg,
and the other hung as I compared the two hard,
I knew the difference for sure,
one of the legs had outgrown the other,
never knew how it all came about,
other chaps break or get their legs cut,
but here was me getting more of it,
can you beleive,
as yesterday's today became long days past today,
the leg grew and grew,
untill I stood on just one,
as if I flew,
Flew...whew,,,it wasn't,
in fact I was limp and unstable bad,
now I am looking for a surgeon,
who will cut the limb in two halves,
so that it gets even with its other half,
reflect and reflect real bad ,
what is one dimension,
if you are made up of two or more,
if your one dimension grows,
you become dysfunctional,
in fact functions no more,
to be stable and smooth,
one has to grow in all dimensions,
whether it is toe or tooth.

Imprint

I sat on a concrete slab,
when I got up,
my arse felt a little bad,
I sat now on a wooden bench,
my back complained a little less,
now I went to a garden,
and saw the green verdant,
I again thumped down and sat,
appreciation cam audibly,
from my back,
that you have done justice,
and sat me in a real good sack,
now I sat on a cushion,
realy cushy and soft,
now I was delighted with arse happiest,
it blessed me for my generosity,
and urged me that it is like this,
that I aught to have sat,
for all times to come,
in present,future and past,
But my arse was being a lotus eater,
for nothing,
it was meant to be sat on all,
be it concrete,wooden,grassy or cushion flat,
how it can choose and ask,
are we not about the same,
that we always seek cushions,
and avoid the concrete slabs,
if we were tough enough,
it is not concrete or wood,
which would have left imprint on our arse,
but it our arse which would have dented them fast.

Paper

It was white and thick,
As I held it to light,
I could see the viscosed fibres,
woven intricately tight,
as I lovingly massaged its surface,
it felt smooth and flat,
they had treated it with chemicals,
to get all that,
now that it was in my hands,
my hands itched to get it to use,
but its pristine beauty,
made me tough and I refused,
the paper was preseved the way it was,
for long and do not how long,
I got about business,
and almost forgot about the paper,
long time down the line,
may be decades,
mind that I had shifted locations,
several times and moved luggage,
I was clearing the clutter,
amongst them was the paper,
that had struck me with pristine beauty,
however,now it was not so,
the pristine white had turned to pale ugly yellow,
with brown blemishes shouting in bellows,
in fact I refused to recognize it,
and threw it in garbage like several others,
untile the gust of wind that evening,
blwe it from garbge bin to my window,
and struck it on the window glass,
there in the light I could see,
the paper's intricately knit fibres,
and the only brand mark,
I ran outside to collect it now,
I clutched it hard,
as I sought to preserve it fast,
now I knew age "yellows" all and sundry,
however the beauty of a thing is a joy forever.

My River

River was it or was it not,
I am not so sure,
But that's the feeling one day I sure got,
Something flowed from the top,
Right where I began my height,
And as if a river would it began down its drop,
It meandered in my mind for a while,
Then got into my forehead,
It sure had covered a pretty big mile,
Now my nasal cavity felt the flow,
As if tributaries ran in cheeks,
And the entire visage began to glow,
Neck is neck and is long,
To straighten things it's pretty narrow,
Now it was in neck headlong,
And flowed like a straight gush,
Fast, furious
Making the inner lines quite lush,
Then as if set free from narrow confines,
I felt my chest suffused,
And now it was spreading in all available ravines,
Another flow was coming from top,
But I was busy feeling this one,
As it continued its drop,
Running with the gravity,
That kept me glued to ground,
"My River now got into stomach cavity,
as if it had reached a basin,
it began its mad churn in the area,
it began swirling all bread and raisin,
below the stomach there is a knob,
now to there it began its final drop,
with all abandon and bob,
it filled me with life,
right where all cakes were cut,
with my pretty sharp knife,
I know there was an escape,
To the out and out,
But it strangely began its upward back scrape,
All flows that came down,
Began to move back,
To the head top town,
However each of them was not the same,
As had began first journey down,
I felt they were smaller after the travel cut and maimed,
Long thereafter I felt that my fresh flows stopped,
Coming from the head top,
And the ferocity of older ones dropped,
Until there came a day,
When I felt all was sapped,
And could escape out from anywhere,
And it did escape out to leave me dead.

SLEIGHT OF HAND

I lifted my hand,
With a purpose,
But moved it as if it was a magic wand,
It was in vacuum,
That I had moved it,
It was looking for purpose and sense,
And catch hold of some object,
It could not find one,
And dropped down limp,
My hand again moved out,
This time rather fast and alert,
A bright light was blinding,
And hands duly covered eyes,
Soon the light was moved elsewhere,
And the hands dropped down limp,
Now my stomach churned for food,
Mind ordered me to larder,
Hands opened it and rummaged this and that,
Finding the desired object caught it fast,
And guided it to mouth,
Hands worked for some time,
Before they fell back-limp again,
It was getting pretty hot,
So I got into shower,
Hands turned on water,
And scrubbed skin and hairs hard,
As I came out hand-dried,
Mind directed that I should choose clothes,
And put them on,
Hands moved again in action,
And dressed me up fully,
Now I was moving out on the road,
On the way to work,
Car said that it could be driven only by hands,
As my mind directed them on steering,
Hands reached out to open the office door once I was there,
And waived to friends in acknowledgement,
As hands pulled out a chair on my desk,
The moment I began work,
Hands collaborated pretty much more,
The day was ended,
And I returned home,
As I was busy so were my hands,
As I fell asleep,
The hands fell back limp,
In dreams I was fighting a boxing match,
Hands moved in dream and as well actually as I snored on,
They said the magician conjured tricks with sleight of hand,
As they clapped along,
We perhaps need not go far,
To know what is the real sleight of hand,
Ask a person, who has lost both his hands,
And he would say,
Magician no doubt has some sleight of hands,
But look at that "magician up above,
Who has generously given everybody,
Their share of "his sleight of hand,
but denied me the same.

A Perfect Impossible Face

Brush bristles edged fine in light,
As I fought the battle inside,
A fine clothe matty was on board,
Most expensive colors lay all spread,
Other brushes and pencils cluttered the floor,
I had already a neat and pretty face on paper a galore,
The human face that I drew was in all details,
It was perfect not in bulk but in fine retail,
Eyes spoke out almost and looked down aslant on a perfect chin,
The mounded cheeks hid in their valley perfect lips spread in a terrific grin,
Hairs fell naturally as if they had symmetry with a neat perky nose,
Each wry line of wrinkle had a life story up close,
Ears paired as if they were hearing the sound of draw,
The pair neatly merged in the neck straw,
All was there and yet not there,
As I fought the battle inside,
I picked up another brush besides,
Dipped it in some color and put it on palette,
Furiously I picked other brushes and mixed colors at a fast pace,
However hard I tried all that I knew about mixing,
Result was simply jinxing,
I did not want to spoil that face outlined on paper,
I needed natural hue for skin and hair,
Skin on nose tip, on cheek peaks, on lips and on earlobes, for instance,
Is all of different hues and I needed all hues for the paint to bounce,
Even hairs of my model had a hue different in pate, sides and back,
The day was lost color did not quite come about and I had to pack,
Days converted in months and years rolled in,
I simply came to paint back,
And not getting it right had to pack,
As I fought the battle inside,
Which was growing fiercer each passing day besides,
I needed a perfect face with perfect colors,
One fine day I realized that if colors could be mixed perfect to get exact human colors,
I would not only sell it all fast but be also be God,
However I knew that I was only a human and not a God,
And it was futile to play a hand played by God,
Instead play a second fiddle, earn laurels and be a Lord,
The day I got this in,
Most colors were done and as well in,
The painting sold well and made me a Lord,
But I was still far from a perfect God.

Adopted Cannot Adapt

I was observing them for years,
and have done it so with open eyes and ears,
I still keep a sharp eye on each move,
whenever they move or "she"moves,
childless and in marriage for ten,
they had decided to adopt one for their ken,
pretty,chubby and bubbly she was,
when they got her home,
it was a live kid taken for a toy,
they had love and affection,
but primary was their own joy,
cradled I saw her look strangely at her adopted parents,
when she did not recognize,
she broke into a shrill fearful cry,
that could have ..but did not...last for years,
she squirmed at foreign love and familiarity,
they thought it was time before she would come around,
they gave her all but her roots,
her outer was well kept but inner cried,
her chemistry did not simply gel,
she was looking for her own genes always in a pell mell,
she cursed the day when she was left in children home,
she was helpless and all alone,
they had come not to give her support,
they had come to serve their own parched souls,
she was the object of use,
and all had done so till she felt badly so,
she thought this and more as she grew old enough to think,
she hid this and all from all as she feared obvious,
grew she did into adulthood,
soon she got her own domain,
trust me she did not look back,
at her adopted parents any time again,
they still thought that they had an adopted daughter,
but the daughter had no adopted parents,
she was still alone,
waiting to meet her genetic parents,
the adopted had not adapted at all.

Forbidden Treasure

they told me never to go near it,
I listened to them all along,
and never went near it,
nor looked at it sharp enough,
a thought ocurred to me on a day,
and I broke the heed ,
and went by far nearest to it,
I found it exciting and good,
the next day I was still nearer,
and almost enjoyed it to the most,
in days that came along,
I grew so familiar with it,
that I disliked others nearing it,
now I told them "never"to go near it,
and also knew why they had,
told me so thus far.

Wants and More Wants

I had three of that particular thing,
One I had purchased some years back,
And was not using it as it was old,
Though it still did all that a new one could,
The other I had purchased because I liked its shell,
But used it hardly ever and kept it stocked,
The third I had bought just a few days back,
And was using it to the full,
Then suddenly another model of that thing appeared in market,
All around me wanted to have just a unit of it,
Were I to be left behind,
Certainly no,I had to have it,
I perhaps did not even have money to purchase it,
But I was ready to borrow to get that fourth number,
Of a thing whose earlier three just about did the same work,
It happens with me all the time,
That I make multiple purchases of an item,
And keep them still,
Using one more than the others,
God alone knows as to do I ever plan their usage,
If it grows old I may even consign it to garbage,
This fourth one made me think,
As I write this and more,
That had I continued with just the first acquired,
Till it broke bad and/or technology changed radically,
I would have saved at least on two,
But who is saving for whom,
Not me for myself at least,
For if it were so,
I wouldn't have purchased second,third and fourth at all,
I think the loss is a societal loss,
I preempted three units which would have been better used,
By those who had none of it,
So I decided just about then,
That my decision is to be based on fact,
That if I have one or more,
That works as well ,
Than I am gonna leave the purchase unmade,
And concentrate resources on that which I do not have,
Sellers had to cry and cry aloud through media of all sorts,
Boy ! you are not doing right,
But hurting our cause,
We are concerned with sales and you are just about making them tough,
Earlier we could make you the second sale,
Now we have to make it first miles away,
Please do not do so and behave all right,
Clarity,however,had seeped deep in the consumer in me,
Who now refused to budge,
Even if it meant taking world's sellers' grudge.

Examined Reality

Green was not all that what it seemed,
as I neared it from afar,
still not so near it and more far than near,
it seemed a little grey at corners and middle,
as I walked for it nearer,
now the grey was still greyer and presto,
there was also yellow in between greys,
the green was still overall green though,
now seeing more tinges than I could at first,
I grew eager and steeped neare it faster,
now the iris dug deeper and I could see even traces of red,
red flashed loud and clear in between yellows,
nwo I was really piqued to no end,
and I rushed nearest thus far,
and voila! there were plenty of black where it wasn't green,
I am now on top of it and saw all colors around me,
its just about the same with most situations and times,
dont's see just the "green" of them from afar,
and get really near to them to see colors clear or ajar.

Worthless

the material props could hardly help,
they were all like dead,
they played music,video till he slept,
no doubt he slept on one such prop and sat on one as well,
he played with another and drank the other,
he had all the material in the world he could ask for,
he kept them in huge real estate,
and never worried about future,
for his bank and credit would last so so many years,
yet he felt deep deep inside not so full,
and not even half as happy and content,
his thoughts told him that his human contacts were not good and full,
everybody who came about searched for material surplus,
they awed him for having gathered so much,
all that he had gathered was valuable,
only "he" was worthless.

Way Of Terror

tears,blood,guts and grime,
replaced order and calm,
in moments what was a "wonder",
came crashing down,
taking hundreds of innocent,
in its massive terrible embrace,
think once and think ,
a million times,
what do one get by such,
heinous acts of dirty crime,
fellow pals are lost and ,
so are your causes,
that grow farther and farther,
as you stoop more in time,
if this was a way out,
humanity couldn't have come this far,
leave alone let you have two "towers",
to blow,blast and look at.

Value

the body knew that it had value,
the lips,cheeks,hairs,eyes,nose,ear(earlobes),arms,stomach,breasts,
hips,penis, thighs and legs,
all worked to make it one,
that was run by brain,
all of gut things inside,
zipped in a chemistry,
that made me what I am,
and that made them what they are,
our body "corners" worked as symbols,
as we did communicate and cohabit,
and used spatial props to do so better,
something eroded now and something then,
our corners got"rounded" and we all,
turned into vegetable gel,
looking for value-our own heaven or hell.

Silence

Silence speaks nothing it used to,
It is now well nigh dead,
You turn less sane,
And perhaps ultimately mad,
Quiet now chills the bones,
It portends ominous,
Singing dirge tones,
Hush now means sinister,
You do not know for sure,
What medicine others may administer,
Beware when you are talking alone,
that all round you may be hearing,
just to see you buried and gone.

FLOWERING

Hard bud felt so and slightly slippery,
As I lovingly palmed it along,
firm tether it had to the stem not letting it budge,
The day and after and days later,
It felt softer with innards growing outwards,
Voila one fine day,
It had ruptured right at tip,
And getting ajar it began pretty faster,
Petals began coming out of close embrace,
Yearning to fall aside free,
I became scared that a touch now,
Would break the open bud,
And stop the flower,
But nature ran its course,
Sunlight fell sharp enough and wind blew right,
Moisture was just right and led it to bloom,
The corolla was a delight and a riot of colors,
It swayed in youth as all passers by admired,
Some stooped to smell the youthful fragrance and other sniffed from afar,
The bloomed flower was serving its purpose quite all right,
Fortunately there was not to get it to its instant death,
By plucking it for uses many by far,
Days wafted by and suddenly supplies became lesser,
Xylem and phloem were concentrating on another bud,
The flower drooped and drooped further,
Sunlight now desiccated the stored wetness in petals,
The riot of colors looked like a site of riot,
The colors paled and darkened fatally,
The tether to the stem shriveled and turned tenuous,
One fine day a blow of wind shook the stem hard,
And broke the "flower and flew it to earth,
Only to be buried amongst other parched vegetation,
Human lives parallel the flower's,
Therefore,watch the wind that would blow you afar,
And pretty much make a "flower out of you..

SPACE THAT YOU OCCUPY

Tone the hue a little lighter,
Believe me its so very murky to sight,
The dark cloud envelopes all you do,
And no one can possibly get a clue,
Its almost apparent that¦.,
When you do hide all and sundry,
And slip away from locales unnoticed,
In the sheer hope that they will search for you thereafter,
Perhaps shattered expectations have not been teacher enough,
Did they ever call you from behind,
And look for you,
Perhaps more often than not they did not,
Your "tonnes of caution and whispers,
Did not even produce a difference of an "ounce for them,
It was just about the same had you been freer and open,
And made full bold use of all situations and kinds,
Why sit tight and leave space for others,
Society has given you much more,
Go ahead and run the full shore.

Raison d'etre

hours go by in determined acts,
days go by in unstructured situations,
months are logged as projects get over,
years measure stages of life,
time is an irreversible fact,
once gone its never added on,
do we have a quotient,
by which we could evaluate,
that hours,days,months and years
that went past,
did go past with an object,
or we were jelly beans all along,
doing what came as near the object,
and never waiting to correct difference,
fulfillment is elusive and subjective,
yet it accrues somewhere down inside,
it constantly correlates to our,
intellect and prowess of all other kinds,
and they say a life unfulfilled,
did it have a raison d'etre.

Purpose

the early morning dew,
settled on the sepals,
and rolled down the corolla,
part of it wetted the flower,
another portion evaporated,
its purpose was over,
in the scheme of nature,
did someone ,somewhere,
program it so fine and sharp,
that it happens everyday,
till the flower ripens and fall,
the dew drops now fall,
on something else,
that replaces the flower,
it still wets and evaporates,
but the purpose is now not,
fine and clear,
then should every act,
have a purpose?

Parenting

Rock my cradle,
Sing me a lullaby,
Feed me at your breasts,
Love me soft and true,
Bring me up by inches,
To strong full manhood,
Listen to my cries,
As I struggle with the world,
Lift me up as I stumble and fall,
Help me along,
Till you will or can,
I can now see,
That you stoop low,
With sagging breasts,
Affection all dried,
And almost all set,
To see you buried in bedrock.

Lead The Pain

tears rolled down the cheeks,
he snivelled his running nose,
he threw his arms all around,
he shieked,shouted and cried,
he did everything to get away,
he flapped his fists everywhere,
and fought with those,
holding him tight,
he did not know the pain,
that was coming was just right,
and like rotten carrion,
had to be sliced away,
truncated and well,
sense grew and prevailed,
and now he is the one holding,
"others" tight so that,
sense could prevail once again.

Feedback

Candid he was and they were,
Told me things I had never heard before,
Most of the stuff I heard,
Was bitter and stung like stings,
I called them prejudiced and furious,
And returned several things about and concerning them,
That I do not remember what I returned,
Shows that my reply was off the cuff and excited,
They had began gradual and stayed so,
Till the time they had done me full,
I still hear them say all that word by word,
Wait perhaps they were right here..and,
Right there ..as well ..perhaps,
They were all correct about me,
Hell I cant help their being right,
Because in the time I realized that they were perhaps correct,
I had gathered more stings deep inside.

Feebling

Furious I rushed to strike,
My fists were all made and,
The inner violence riveted all on target,
I swiveled and swirled on my toes,
And took that mighty sweep,
As my muscular armature shook and sweat,
My thighbones turned taut,
And leg muscles screwed up like hell,
Chest huffed and heaved up and down,
I knew the moment had come to deliver,
And deliver with bang I did,
The target did not move and was hit real bad,
I had almost killed him but fell short,
Because before I could try again he had taken off,
And honestly I did not have enough for that second blow,
And with every passing day and foe,
I feel the same,
Something inside of me is drying up fast.

Unseen Face

I looked into the mirror,
It appeared crooked,
My visage had convoluted and been ugly,
I turned to yet another glass,
Looked into it deep and fast,
The mirror was actually glass in large patches,
Transparent and clear to yonder and beyond,
My face was reflected only in parts,
More was lost than revealed,
My friend gave me a mirror that was perfect,
I looked into it and found,
That what it reflected was profound,
It was indeed so much better,
That I had faulty mirrors,
And could not sight straight,
And see my real dirty and ugly face.

Unknown

morbidity and fear,
of the "unknown",
rooted in me from birth,
i waited and waited,
for the"unknown"to happen,
that it did on several occasions,
i had in the aftermath known the "unknown",
yet knew it was still as much"unknown",
as it had been at the birth,
the more the gut wrenching I did,
on each facing I had with it,
the more I knew that ,
it had turned"unknown",
probably I would have been freer,
but ,you know, in this miasma,
death came along.

True Lie

I cannot tell a truth,
I cannot tell a lie either,
they now seem to gel together,
one cannot be set apart from other,
what was lied yesterday,
comes as a truth today,
what was true today,
is proven a lie tomorrow,
nothing is absolute-not even truths and lies,
relativity rules the culture,
and liars are true speakers,
that they are not lying any longer,
so are true speakers liars,
as they are not speaking true any more.

TRIAD of DAYS

There are three broad kind of folks,
One those live by "yesterday",
Two those think in advance of "tomorrow",
And three those prefer to stay in"today",
There are also minor groups of folks,
Those draw upon the three in combinations and permutations,
Importance varying in degrees to bygone, present and future,
Perhaps ideal are those kinds of fellows,
Which treat equally "yesterday" as,
Database of events to mark and prevent errors,
And "present" as drawing board for "future"events,
For past was the present of yesterday and the,
future of the day before,
The linking triad goes unending.

Terror Blown Humanity

tears rolling down the cheeks,
heart wrenched dry,
struck stupefied by rubble,
i looked for remains where there were none,
guts inside out,human dignity had bit dust,
gory,heinous and terrible,
the tragedy had struck,
fast,deep and grievous,
it had sunk and sunk well,
that "terror" by its vendors,
had been sold but for short,
soon black hooligans would be "booked" ,
so that towers carrying working humans,
are not blown struck,for "striking such",
is striking humans and dignity,
today its here tomorrow it would be all over,
god let it not be here,
anywhere,anytime and forever....amen.

Stolen??Wish

Laid back in the lush green,
My back feeling the silk,
And eyes staring in the night sky,
Clouds were no where to be seen,
Stars shimmered dim and bright,
As I awaited for one to break and fall,
So that I could ask heavens for that elusive thing,
The darkness grew more so,
And umbra turned into a bejeweled spectacle,
My eyes began to droop and drop,
As I kept the expectant vigil,
I did not know when the drowse gripped me firm,
But my neighbor told me the next day,
That in the witness of a broken star last night,
She had asked for her dream.

Spirit

Something inside of me fails,
It says I am undernourished and ill fed,
Something inside of me churns,
It fumes and frets for escape,
Something inside of me feels dirty,
It yearns for clean honesty,
Something inside of me condemns,
It cautions and warns acts,
Something inside of me weeps,
It mourns the end of goodness,
I feel dead as yet live,
As this very thing inside of me,
Wants to stay alive "dead".

Sour Romance

Petulant pouts and reluctant shrugs,
Smirk of nose, slight of eyes glint,
Made the communication impasse,
She was expectant somewhere under,
That I will smoothen pouts and make her more than shrug,
Straighten her nose and set her eyes normal straight shine,
And gently and coaxing murmur sweet nothings in her ears,
Hopelessly, cinematically romantic she thought she was,
I had had enough and could not stand to be her hero,
Something inside me had knotted hard and fast,
I also had neat reasons to pout, shrug and smirk,
And also to carry on the incommunicado,
I had seen several of them do the same and many times,
The genuine animal inside me had risen to the fore,
It did not want to act conciliatory but gnash teeth,
Reduced to naturals the relationship had to end,
As naturally as it could get,
It did so fast enough,
I have now another pout, smirk, shrug and glint.

Society in Reverse

Timidity pronounced them timorous,
Stout hearted glanced askance on their lot,
Scare of fear chagrined their visage,
Gladiators belittled their blushes,
As they sunk deeper into quagmire of luxuries,
They became laughing stock of laboring laity,
They proclaimed theirs was high echelon,
Those below clamored to take over reigns,
Deceit ,manipulation,greed and gluttony,
Turned into their notorious traits,
They fed on powers that were benign and flailing,
With fissures of disunity and discontent,
Entrenching themselves swiftly,
Each of them weighed what they had and what not,
Forgotten in this miasmic amnesia was their purpose and work,
Those below clamored to take over reigns,
The ruling had to be revolted against and were,
Those that took over became ruling and sprang to top rungs,
Till time came for populace to bleed and show their hearts wrung,
The society had reversed once more and will do so again and again.

Shackle Sympathy

It struck me pathetic,
that scores should ridcule me,
for inanities and frivolitities,
and look for sanguinity,
where there was only icy clear ash,
I had grown by numerous pricks so thick,
that nothing ever pierced inside,
and pained in any manner,
the life had beccome such a stage,
where I enacted my mechanical roles,
as if I was a fallen tree branch in quagmire,
with life enough only to rot away,
there was no messiah that could lead a hand,
and lift me clear out of it free,
wherever I turned I found them struggling,
wrigling ,irked and peeved like me,
in the very same marshes of"life",
and I was convinced my sympathy was not lost,
for nothing for those who had lost perhaps everything.

Selfish Charity

Seamstress yelled that she could not get my size,
I had over grown the new unused coat that I got last year,
She could not fit it on me any longer,
What could not be fitted had to be discarded,
Axiomatically it sounded just right,
However I thought again,
What was not useful could be used elsewhere by others,
That too sounded axiomatically correct,
Decision was made to give it to a global charity,
Coat reached the destination it was pacing for,
Does all material fits in the latter axiom,
That it reaches for its target and gets it,
Perhaps no it has to be propelled,
And propelled fast enough by the power of human self,
That tried it in all ways and filtered it using self interest,
Before sending it away on a path that ends in garbage or charity,
Garbage is cleared everyday but selfish charity is not.

Self

Sing my song and hum my tune,
and everything would be,
fine and going along,
Each one of us has inside,
an inbuilt program called "self",
We all run through it endlessly,
looping like centered and mad,
Our input devices are not made,
to receive ,sight , hear or feel,
messages alien to our own "unit",
So if the song that is sung,
and if the tune that is hummed,
is his or hers and not ours,
Believe me your "program",
is wider than their "self".

Search

i dug,dug and dug deep,
it could not be found anywhere,
i flew the sky limits,
it still was not there,
i swam ocean depths,
yet i could not reach its depths,
i talked to millions,
it mystified me still further,
seers,sages,saints and philosophers,
could not get me anywhere near,
commoners said they lived with it,
yet did not know where it was,
hopelessly placed as I was,
"life" itself walked up,
one fine day,
and said,
you will know me where "I" am,
when you are well nigh dead.

Rhymed Poem

It happens sometimes,
That I cannot put the words to rhyme,
The sentences go straight,
And begun to scratch and grate,
Ideas get so complex and involved,
that similar sounding words are as good as not evolved,
Please do me a favor,
Recognize my poetic labor,
And read the poetry like prose,
Though I may seem to impose,
Words are knitted in ideas and thoughts,
Though they may not be tough and taut,
That they reach your ears and mind,
That's my only expectation and bind.

Responsibilities

i tossed it all up,
said i am wounding up,
consider hard and fast,
all as good as lost,
they looked stunned,
they had never ,
seen a human,
throw all down the drain,
and yet feel no remorse,
however whatever i did toss,
had to come down,
and down it came,
crashing on my head,
i was again pinned down,
till i could toss it all up,
yet again.

Puking The Nuke

blue azure hung yonder,
the shimmering sun threw daylight,
the chlorophyll greens spread wide,
the swallows chirped sharp,
the flowers bloomed like boom,
and everyhting seemed just ,
right and idyllic,
with honest guys working very hard,
this kind of "day" and,
this very kind of matching night,
once it blew the fuse all over,
and everything the eye could hold,
was shattered beyond sight,
day turned into eternal night,
loss,lost and loss was all,
one could hear,
somebody bloody had,
yeah,puked the "nuke" and
puked it all over.

Meaning

i dug ,dug and dug deep,
i could not find it anywhere,
i flew sky limits,
it was still not there,
i swam ocean depths,
luck could not locate it yet,
i talked to millions,
still could not get its whereabouts,
seers,sages,saints and philosophers,
got me entangled about it further,
commoners said they just lived with it,
and did not know where it was,
placed hopelessly as I was,
life "itself" emerged on a day,
and said,
you will know my meaning,
when you are dead.

Manual Vs.Mental

I fell down with abandon gravity,
all limbs and muscles of my body were aching,
I had toiled,walked and run for hours long,
I had known the earlier start of the day,
but not its end,
probably it has now come,
as I lay buried in bedfolds,
all I could manage was to light up my cigar,
as I puffed the smoke billowed up,
making shapes and figurines that engaged me,
I focussed my drooping,doze laden eyes,
to read into smoke shapes,
perhaps it was not real,
proabaly the physical labor had taken mental toll,
but I read it clear and thick,
it wrote"well done and now sleep".

Love for Soul

Tears full of brine,
I bid her adieu,
I knew all along,
That she will never be mine,
She told me so several times,
I was credulous,
Till she left me far behind,
Tears dripped and dripped,
Till I was drained dry,
And could no longer,
Feel , breathe or whine,
After all she was my "soul".

Knot

she was so pretty,
she was so tidy,
she was so perfect,
she was so amiable,
that time flowed like springtide,
her chemistry matched mine,
it happens but sometimes that,
such a gel gives you lifelong bliss,
today she has been with me for decades,
but time still runs effortlessly,
and she understands me and my times fine,
we have both turned into society's,
most cherished and ripened wines,
I wish and pray that when death do us apart,
it is only till we unite again in rebirth.

Initiation

That tender heart shook,
that specky brain vibrated wild,
that puny body vaulted in unexplained,
the child did not "know",
what to listen and what to mean,
as they took him down,
for the first time ever,
into the structure of life,
and loaded him and his "free"self,
with some tasks he did not like,
and yet knew were mighty well done,
he could have collapsed,
just like larvae on water edge,
presto !-wings he grew just like butterflies,
and flew he did to adulthood,
where he loads and leads his brood,
just like his poor folks did.

Infallibility

I went all the hog,
It took all I had,
muscle,brains,tact and contact,
yet it fell away ,
right when I thought,
that it had come,
at margin something,
churned inside very fast,
letting you know true,
how its going to last,
I still do not know ,
what it takes to,
gear you up,
just before the last,
so that you can handle,
all that churning fast,
and be called infallible.

Immorality

drowning,deep into it,
breath escaping me fast,
limbs feebling every second,
i think its last,
descending still on,
i can still think,
give me a hand will you,
someone from somewhere,
silence and silence,
no response and no talk,
its getting worse,
i can think still,
i make an effort to focus,
and think sharp,
boy what do i get,
they are all drowning with me,
very ,very fast.

Human Machines

it was to be yes or no,
it was to be right or wrong,
it was to be north or south,
it was to be up or down,
it was to be east or west,
it was to be her or the other,
it was to be black or white,
seemed like binary stalks us far,
and very wide,
if there were more dimensions,
then we could collapse them in two,
and run like our computers,
who made us remains ,
still at large ,
are we clones or "branded".

He looking For She

All of Shes were shes for me,
Till I felt the need to make it special,
The need arose God knows when,
But when it did it hurt me so bad,
That all the shes around me were not my she,
I looked and cared and craved,
I felt I was half and perhaps less,
Its not that I lacked choice,
But none could fit the billing,
Some even left me with more pangs,
And marked the traits I was looking for,
All of a sudden with a quirk the one I was looking for walked around,
And walked around so well that she became mine for good stead,
I was delirious and content and lived every moment a full moment,
The good scene came to an abrupt end,
When she told me one fine day,
That she had found the one she was looking for,
And it was for sure not me,
I still wonder if she was my she after all.

Grit

Waves tossed fiercefully high,
Wind blew like typhoon,
Fire razed like inferno,
Earth moved like a quaker,
People turned against like foes,
Climes changed to inhospitable,
Grievous events piled up in heaps,
Everything in the ethereal,
seemed destined for destruction,
for good and for real,
Shook they could everything,
everywhere and all over,
The day was saved,
by that "little" thing,
human "grit" and "determination",
stood"inside"giving a lot of hope.

Get,Set And Begone

The enthusiasm gushed forth,
eyes shone sharp bright,
nostrils shook as if electrified,
the chest heaved like seas,
and mind got really eager,
this is where the young had to get set and go,
so he ran headlong faster than he thought was possible,
the pace doubled with first bravado,
and the second placed him equivalent to alexander,
he grabbed the first milestone very firm,
and began the run to the next,
how many milestones he reached and got,
that nobody knows for certain,
somewhere the road began getting complicated,
and he slowed on all counts like hell,
now thoughts ran faster than legs,
and each day mind knocked how much more of the run is left,
it was not long that he sat,
and got counted for old age benefits.

Failure To Success To Failure

i was wound up tight,
tensed,stressed and worked up,
inner to hide,
darkness mulled everywhere,
hopes dipped to nadir,
all rounded me up like,
they were foes forever,
events flowed like stream,
my roulette riveted on my point,
i had won and won allright,
sun shone bright,
inner was shaken and,
hide shone bright,
i knew they were all friends,
and i could be going there,
up the long and winding hill,
shocking that i could still stumble,
and so i did,
and was wound tensed, stressed and tight.

Expectations

Soaring up to heavens just now,
It comes crashing down moments later,
Sometimes it outlives centuries,
However often it dies before birth,
It dotes on friends,
And it loathes the foe,
It builds on achievements,
And gets stymied by failures,
Sometimes it is feather soft,
And at others rock hard,
It gallops me to madness,
As I trudge behind sad,
Its everywhere,
And as well no where,
I search and search my way ,
Behind its run,
But"expectations" are such,
That they are seldom caught.

Devil

I had the devil in me now I see,
I used to catch anger like fire,
I ran after material with greed,
I loathed like hell a lot many folks,
I had jealousy working overtime to get better,
I ran aground efforts of many around,
so that only what I did remained,
for getting to targets I had done lot of wrong,
the devil got tired and exhausted,
sometime and somewhere,
anger,greed,loath,jealousy
almost dimmed out,
It now took an effort to get the devil going,
I still protested but not with anger,
I still got material but not with greed,
I still disliked people but not with loath,
Yes I am sure I had killed the devil,
myself somewhere quietly along.

Destined

the wind blew so hard,
that nothing could stand in its way,
all was blown to places unknown,
the fires that were merely smouldering,
raged like mad and madder still,
no one could direct the flow,
nor lessen the intensity,
it had to blow and it did blow,
for god knows how long,
and to what telling effects,
our life episodes have several moments,
wherin the "wind" blows similarly,
and to same effects if not literally,
can we really help the events that,
shape our lives and destiny,
or simply call them destiny.

Communicate

I said something,
did you hear that thing,
if you did how much of it did you hear,
did you say anything in reply,
sure you did,
as some of what I had said made sense to you,
However I cannot say for sure ,
if I heard all you replied right and full,
nevertheless whatever I did hear,
some of it sure made sense,
rest probably was taken as"noise",
did we as "pair"make sense,
and if yes then how much sense,
or all was lost as"noise",
sense or noise we did say and hear,
for few more minutes before we broke off,
that marked the end of episode "conversation".

Chaotic Order

let me think it over
if sanity ever won over unruly,
the day had a lot of chaos
in the order that came about by night,
the mountains were all jagged,
big and unmanageable,
the seas all so huge,
the space so formidable and
the clime so unpredictable,
but we had mapped them all
in theories and thoughts,
and had a thought that it was
ordered and least chaotic,
the randomised "artificial intelligence"
had powered to regular movements,
don't you think that this "write" itself
is chaos lookin for some order,
which probably is there and
as well not there.

Change

i am lost,
to be found never,
do not come searching,
i am past and forgotten,
follow other leads,
that take you yonder,
and give you hope,
that lead you to new,
it is the "order",
that changes forever,
but the change itself remains...,
unchanged and comes knocking
forever.

Caring

it was all so sudden,
that he got hurt,
she had not even time enough,
to ponder how hurt affected them,
they drifted apart,
like twigs aflow in a stream,
suddenly a gust of realisation,
brought them together,
that flow aimlessly they must,
why not together taking care.

Buried Warmth

Can you be warm and cuddly,
I am frozen stiff and cold,
My bones have chilled deep inside,
They are so formal and so are these,
Those there are just about business,
And here these guys are growing professionals,
You have to have the symbols of well being,
Wear skins and skins and skins,
That hides your inner health,
Can you please hug me hard,
Caress my cheeks, lips free,
I will really appreciate,
If you throw your cloak down,
And face me with what you are,
And what I am,
And not for what I do and what I have.

Bottoms up is not Easy anymore

Take me to inner,
It has lot in store,
Let me concentrate,
A little now and later more,
Allow me to take the dive,
That ends nowhere but towards the end,
I want to live life bottoms up than upside down,
I wish to know the inner meaning and raison de etre,
Then look for where I want to build,
The lore has it that those tried to do so,
Stopped hands and began mind,
It all did help the mind,
It went the speed of light years,
To thoughts that took them right to core,
Exit back to up perhaps was very tough,
Once they knew the inner and core,
They all did not want to live ,
the way we all do,
any more.

Behind

Give me the light,
Its all dark everywhere,
I cannot fathom the height,
down me somewhere near,
You are going away too far,
I think its better closer,
You run ahead hare like,
let me also come there,
I understand just a little,
You tell me whatever is there,
You boldly open ways and means,
I cringe somewhere here,
Trust me my friend,
its the way it has been done,
forever and everywhere,
that some have horns on hind,
and other say we are behind.

Her Attention

She was born a little different,
In fact "she came to understand that "she was "she much later,
Some usual description of physical changes came to make her a full "she,
As an adult she clamored for attention,
Run by inner chemicals and mental maturity,
Attention she sought changed forms over time,
First she asked for her outer shell to be admired,
After getting that she wanted to pact a mental understanding,
Of stability and blissful peace with a few out of all admiring her shell,
Over the time she narrowed down from several admirers,
The one she wanted to hinge upon for long,
With this one she wanted to anchor till marital storms...or death,
Slowly and steadily she used her "she to get about recreation,
She ,yes ,she gave life to a new toddler,
Now it was he who she wanted to attend to,
Her own sense of getting attention was lost in preoccupations,
And only when she was "free she now expected attention,
Over time she entered another cycle of recreation,
Her basket was blessed with another fruit,
Now her preoccupation grew even more intense,
She rarely found times when she had the time to seek and get attention,
Time flowed as it did for everyone around,
Her toddlers grew into robust adults,
With each day they had done so,
She had greyed about one strand of her pate,
By now she was almost grey..and yes,
Had an outer shell that spoke of years' depreciation,
Time flowed still faster,
And her toddlers gave and got attention ,
And perhaps got into the same mode as she had,
Soon her toddlers had toddlers too,
She was preoccupied yet again,
Everybody of her well strewn brood,
Wanted just about a slice of her time,
The day she fell sick,
And fell sick real bad,
It was for sure she thought,
That it would be last time that anybody,
Would be bestowing " attention on her,
And that was exactly so after that "she was just a memory.

Strawberry Happy and Sad

Singing in the rain,
I hummed the words to myself,
The lyric formed just about right,
Rhyming and timing like gel,
The words fell like pieces of jigsaw,
And each did express my inner thoughts well,
I sang and sang ,
Till my inner brought the music along,
The instruments formed out of thin air,
The sounds were well formed chime and bell,
Each note completed each word of the lyric,
And completed it rather swell,
Mind was in tune and swirling fast,
Unmind of the weather,
My limbs broke into moves,
The moves that formed a structured dance with steps,
I even forgot if anybody was around and watching,
I was simply cast into a magic and spell,
Suddenly from nowhere,
I felt a rude screech,
That disturbed my music and lyric as well,
My body took a large impact,
And I was in a pell mell,
The pain numbed me and I forgot all,
Only to wake up getting medical help,
For days to come and,
Remember my mind was not singing and dancing at all,
Somebody did say it right,
Happy and sad tidings travel in queue,
And never be too delirious,
So as to loose even "yourself.

Naught

He was sitting just there,
Suddenly she came shouting shrill,
Its time and you have to leave,
He reluctantly took his manila,collected his glasses,
And made for the door,
He hiked himself on a bus,
And landed at the Tube,
Wading through the passenger crowd,
He found his tube and boarded it,
Tube ran and ran real fast,
But he just sat their thinking naught,
He was programmed for minutes,
Till tube stopped at his destination,
It did so soon enough,
And he got up in robot like fashion,
And got out of the passenger crowd,
He now boarded a bus,
And got moving to work place,
Landing there he just entered the gates,
He had little applets written in his brain,
To acknowledge in greeting,
Other colleagues and friends,
He nodded along,
Till his place came,
He simply sank in the cushy chair,
and sat there thinking naught,
a guy came and then another,
a few others followed,
some had work,some reported to him,
while to some other he did,
most of them had papers to exchange,
he had some papers,
others he got out of the computer,
towards evening his day of work ended,
he had reasons to get angry,
but he did not,
he had reasons to be happy,
but he did not ,
he had several reasons to be several states,
but he did not,
he just sat there and thought naught,
With limp gestures he picked up his manila and glasses,
And moved to the tube,
Tube took him back the same way it had brought,
He again just sat there and thought naught,
He was home and sank in an armchair to relax,
He sipped the coffee and soon supped,
But he still thought just naught,
It was about the same when he watched soaps and sundry on smaller tube,
He still thought naught,
When he did fall sleep his brain stopped thinking even naught,
Till he got up next morning,
And got opportunity to think naught again.

Adopted Can Adapt

They were married and enjoyed it the most,
They both earned and made more and more,
They were wealthy and healthy beyond compare,
Life flowed in little gems and pearls,
As they thickened marital gel,
However marriage could not bear the fruit,
When they wanted it most,
Soon desperation took over,
Medicine could not just help,
Frustrated to no end,
They landed in an orphanage,
And brought someone home,
She was a delight to hold,
Little arms,puny legs and a solid head,
Their face glowed when they saw her broad smile,
Their time riveted on her and her alone,
She snuggled in their arms as if their own,
They fed her,schooled her,dressed her and more,
She spoke her first words called "Mom and then "Dad,
She outgrew her clothes and they marveled in just that,
Now her words flowed fast as she gushed delight,
Three were together for most time,
And loved it so,
She sought her own adult world outside,
And got herself fixed there well,
Her time was now divided as with all healthy adult,
But her reference point remained fixed at home and them,
Her chemistry with them was about genetic,
It was a chance and they all saw it well,
She was their fresh adult,
As they were her mentors old,
Her psyche was without scars and she was genial and well,
She paced and paced in growth,
And got her own domain,
But her reference points remained pretty same,
Though sometimes it does not happen,
But here the adopted had adapted real well.

Aborted Attempt

Groomed and ready,
he was not shaky pretty steady,
it was a tough job that he had,
he needed to use both body and head,
he began in right earnest,
to last an attempt quite honest,
start was easy,
and he got merrily busy,
problems arose in the middle,
and he began to fumble and fiddle,
one thing went amiss here,
and the other one slipped there,
everything was now haywire,
he felt as if in deep mire,
it was now tough to proceed,
not to talk about succeed,
his mind was in boil,
its heat not getting to coils,
soon he had the sapping to full,
and out he began to pull,
when he came out,
and saw everybody around scout,
a famished,hapless and feeble smile came to him,
they were probing and restive to brim,
a human bond ran across,
and a cognitive smile fleetingly surafced on a toss,
they said do not worry,
even we had tried this distasteful curry,
and failed miserably,
but please now hurry,
we have yet another worry.

Gracing Ghost

Hanging in the space
the ghost rubbed its base,
it left a bright spark,
a flash in frightening dark,
the little girl huddled in her room,
she slid herself in a corner as if broomed,
the ghost made a swirl,
as if firecrackers were on whirl,
this scared her more,
her voice sunk inside her,
she could not even scream,
she folded her skeleton,
flattening little meat on it,
and closed her tiny eyes,
the ghost had completed its arrival,
and was no longer lamenting for survival,
it took shape,
and featured under little girls eyes under cape,
his face grew clear..and the ghost was man,
recognizing him the little girl ran,
it was dad,
who was long dead,
he had come,
so that she could have comfort some,
she sobbed in ethereal embrace,
the ghost had come not to scare,
but to grace.

USURPED RIGHTS

I looked lovingly at it,
It swayed so very gently in the morning breeze,
I stroked its tender leaves as it was as yet a toddler,
Remembering the day I had got it from nursery,
They had said it needed extreme care and tending,
For it to survive to bloom,
Ever since,
Each early morning I had been waking before sunrise,
To soften earth in which it stood,
And feed it just the right measure of water,
Wash its leaves of any dirt or chemical,
And add nutrient to it just as adviced,
Inch by inch it grew,
As days turned to weeks and weeks to months,
The fantastic plant grew in shape,
Slowly its sinews all appeared,
The chlorophyll was getting greener,
The branching was spreading out steadily,
And the leaves were getting all the members they could,
And one fine morning my elation knew no bounds,
As I watered it along,
I saw the tender one swelling at a few nodes,
Beginning the signs that it was pregnant with bloom,
The day next and thereafter and therafter and so on,
Were of joyful suspense as I saw several buds burgeon to size,
Joy turned into sorrow as several such buds just couldn't survive,
They paled and shriveled and shrinked,
Only to fall to the ground,
There was however one at the top that did not pale,
Nor shriveled or shrunk,
It was right upto to the sun and breathed the oxygen to maximum,
Slowly the clime also changed to just about required and the coming days saw ,
That the bud's innards cracked from the pressure of bloom,
The only bloom that my tender one had got in months,
The only bloom that had witnessed my entire painful tending,
Cracked and cracked further it did till the bud flourished in a smile,
I could see the riot of bright colour looking outside from inside,
My anxiety and care grew by bounds,
I had made up my mind,
That this fantastic bloom,
I will enjoy for its entire 'life',
And not let it be "taken away by any imaginable force,
Voila there was my bloom one fine morning,
Majestic in colours and shape,
It looked so pretty that I could cry of happiness aloud,
Its soft petals were coloured so bright and pigmented,
And it emanated a heavenly scent quite abound,
It was the darling of my garden,
And a beholders pleasure all right,
I closed the guarded garden doors,
Smiling a coy confident beam,
That my labour had bore the fruit,
And now I had a right,
To enjoy its reward for some time ,
Next morning I expectantly went to my guarded garden,
And almost died of shock on the spot,
My dearest and only bloom was not there any more,
Its abode right on top was vacant with a stunt,
I looked on the ground somewhere,
To search for its dead remains,
Thinking that natural forces had done their job and it had gone other buds' way in youth,
But could not find any,
I examined the "stunted stem closely,
And clearly saw that somebody had rudely usurped the bloom,
And taken it away for momentary pleasure,
My spirits downed and the veneer chagrined,
As I mulled and mulled in darkened gloom,
I thought it just about now and clear,
That the bloom was just a placebo,
Real facts were here and there and everywhere,
That there are fellow people with you,
In all walks of life,
That "crudely and "rudely usurped your right,
Nurtured by you so very painstakingly over time periods 'short or long,
And did not stop even for a second to look back,
That they have "killed' that portion of your "inner garden,
Leaving it with so very stone heartedness almost as if "bloomless.

Heeding Morals

Jockeying my fortunes,
I moved efforts on the sly,
Did many things on tip toe and fly,
Some of it was good and right,
Most of it was bad mocking forthright,
I killed and maimed many winged hopes,
In efforts to get in my ropes,
Now that I sit back and count,
All that I gained and found,
The balance is simply not there,
There is plenty,
But bliss no where,
I am haunted at nights,
By my dirty past blights,
I am still riding the life steed,
But have several morals,
To which I pay studious heed.

Dinner Fork

Crow was thirsty,
and gasping,
beak opened in gap,
and breath pulsating hard,
from a flight from far,
it sighted water,
not far but near rather,
it made the short flight,
not flying but hopping hard,
had it not made the effort,
what might have happened,
is anybody' guess,
moral is after hard days work,
you still have to push in hard,
to get to your dinner fork.

Pen Ideas

Pen has ink,
ink has my ideas,
my will enters the pen,
and makes it run,
shaping ideas,
big or small,
shallow or deep,
while thoughts are multidimentional,
pen shrinks them to two,
but that is to ordinary eyes,
to perceptive ones,
the other dimensions spring up from paper,
and reach their minds and ideas.

Arduous Deeds

Tree trunk dulled the axe,
feller had to sharpen and wax,
apply strength twice as much,
to fell the tree as such,
all arduous deeds are about same,
you have to work hard,hard and hard,
honing,cutting and nibbling,
before they lead you to any fame.

Adversity Vs Death

Sting of bee,
shakes you up,
Bite of snake,
makes you dead,
that's difference,
when you have adversity vis a vis death in reference.

Gradual

Sweet chunks of sugar,
dissolve inside gradually,
It is nature to do so,
all good things in life must be taken,
as if you were laid back and had them long forsaken.

Mute Spoken Words

Spoken words were mute,
It was so good that they were so,
because they were extremely crude.

Eclipsed Soul

Rock my memories,
Pieces of 'flashback' fall out from inside,
It was sepia fantasy and fake blessings,
That came in brief but eclipsed my soul.

Eyes

Eyes see all as yet they are blind,
It is because most seen does not reach the mind,
If it did you would have more eyes than pair one.

Intense

It was all severe and hard,
shredding everything to shards,
It made sense to call it intense.

Eyes

Eyes see all as yet they are blind,
It is because most seen does not reach the mind,
If it did you would have more eyes than pair one.

Cut it to Lord

Calculate by inches,
reduce it more,
I need it finer,
go to centimeters,
No it is still crude,
get even more sharp,
lets divide the carp,
lets go in microns,
and use the knife,
dig it more and more,
till you have it to the core,
its about the same in life,
if you could get the moment sliced,
and clear enough in a neat dice,
you would have everything forming and dancing,
and it would be in nature,
that you would be glancing,
nature! whose author is God,
will you be anything short of,
that same very Lord.

Lava Truth

Felled in the form and gelled in indescribable,
It was a conundrum quite unfathomable,
Some chemicals reacted on its fibres,
A reaction took place in its innards,
and laughed at scared cowards,
who had shrunk and sprung back,
as if running with their ruck sacks,
the lava spewed from the volcano,
rammed in constantly dismembering form,
all that came in its way was torn,
some truths are like lava,
they simply sear through,
make culprits hurry and attention all drew.

Bonded Pair

I am enticed by you,
yes,you,
are you listening,
I am not with correct word,
may be its not enticing at all,
I am attracted to you,
are you listening,
or not,
I feel that it is also not right,
attracted is simple and straight,
you are beyond that,
for this 'ready bait,
something pulls me to you,
is it physical you,
or something inside,
the pang is a yearn,
and rises in a team,
from the soul,
though I do not know,
where it exists and rolls,
bonded we are,
as a pair,
use and misuse,
will not get it over.

Mastered

Mastered,
understood,
and read,
he could,
compress,
and spread,
at will,
any bill,
in known,
areas,
impressing,
listeners' arias,
with his hands,
on the mantle,
he could assemble,
and dismantle,
with equal ease,
often without,
charging any fees.

Fable

Putrefying proteins,
emanated rancid airs,
he had this excretion,
and other unwanted,
wares,
quite spread out on table,
as if he was narrating,
a known tale,
of his dirty inside,
as a fable.

Knowledge Store

Bore,
deeper,
deeper still,
and more,
the earth.
will spread
and open,
its doors,
water,
will shore,
in jets,
and pours,
our parched,
souls,
in this desert,
of ignorance,
will quench thirst,
with this knowledge store.

Shocked Pride

Pride,
not to abide,
by any bide,
and take a free ride,
he went along on long strides,
he returned back fast enough,
having stumbled sharp,
in rapid fast strides,
on a huge rock,
with pain and,
shock.

Creativity Ruses

Creativity let his mind go vibrant,
this shape,
this letter,
this color,
this emotion,
this scene,
this architecture,
and all this conjecture,
about them,
and about all of them,
one day something snapped,
he had his income stopped,
he wanted but could not,
he rared but empty pockets,
were bared,
he fought hard for days,
still no hope of rays,
penury and starvation,
had dried all juices,
whether they were mundane,
or creativity ruses.

Long That I Retired

Cross legged,
in his bowed legs,
with determination,
in between them,
he had flagged,
and jagged,
no more efforts,
or trials,
it was just a phone call,
the single phone dial,
that he made to God,
and said ,Lord I am tired,
and it is long that I retired.

Flowery Gore

That child,
looking like flowered rose,
had a rose in hand,
he smirked,
he smelled,
he shook,
and the crook,
finally wrung,
it all,
to smithreens,
with petals,
and sepals,
all strewn,
and flowery powder,
all smeared,
in his gory hands,
did he like the flower,
or the destruction more,
his story narrated all,
in the flowery gore.

Hung

Strings hung,
as he sung,
and caught the rung,
an electric wire sprung,
around the rung,
and he was stung,
now he did not sing,
and was almost hung.

Leading Life Not Sought

Thought in taught,
was lost,
bred he was without,
came in last,
in the poor lot,
his parent saw the rot,
and bought,
everything on dot,
he lives a life,
that he never sought.

Winner's Badge

Margin was short,
minute and hair breadthed,
he smiled outwardly,
and inwardly grimaced,
hid the inner pain,
and buttered the whole main,
His lordship came forward,
quite ingratiated,
waving hands,
he conjured an ace,
of his grace,
which now began to race,
lordship had obliged,
had the margin hedged,
he came out with a winner's badge.

Dispel It

Pall of gloom,
fluttering,
and dark,
light of hope,
wavering,
but sharp,
twain met,
clashing,
and headlong,
one won,
convincingly,
and strong.

Bloody Freak

Creek,
greek,
cheek,
speak,
meek,
seek,
leak,
peak,
peek,
sleek,
reek,
geek,
teak,
do stop now,
you bloody freak.

Reply of the Bloody Freak

You censor me so,
please hear my full row:

Standing on this Creek,
I felt like a greek,
with burning cheek,
I could not speak,
I was forced meek,
with no friends to seek,
my mind began to leak,
soon it was on peak,
I gulped full on peek,
before I sighted that man sleek,
as he came near he began to reek,
I was forced to gesture and geek,
threatened I lifted the nearby teak,
I have stopped now,
you bloody freak,
its your turn to speak.

Meaning of Sermon

Hear the sermon,
not the sermonizer,
he is a medium,
and not an end,
his words have beauty,
and purity,
that you are bound to gain,
that may not remove,
but dull most of your stains.

Slow Down

Pause,
slow down,
graduate,
roll back,
you steps,
thoughts,
acts,
from,
thoughtless,
hasty,
and,
retaliatory,
plane,
as you pause,
think more,
what these,
might have,
in store.

Broomed Mind

Have you ever broomed,
your room,
removed the clutter,
and seen the room,
spick and span,
why don't you try,
the same,
with your mind,
broom it,
every now and then,
get the clutter out,
and with fresh clear voice,
give out a loud thoughtful shout.

Cross Section of Recluse

You were never up to anything,
aimless and vacant,
an island,
almost marooned,
and abandoned,
you had ground,
that was once fertile,
now out of misuse,
quite barren and sterile,
you spent years that way,
gained nothing,
and lost when other wanted to grab,
what was the meaning of your existence,
you had never contemplated,
nor would now like to,
because if you did,
you would connect,
and have to react,
to more that comes your way,
out of habit you would have nothing to say,
you would only become more barren,
and hatefully abandoned,
now I understand,
why you are an island,
in Yourself.

Sold to own Acts

It is no surprise,
that you speak ill,
you did ill and were caught at it,
now you think it fit,
to speak ill,
and confuse your victims,
you hope to escape penalty,
but will you,
perhaps you will be caught again,
and the penalty would doubly rain,
may be you would try to confuse again,
till penalty thrice rains,
one day you would be sold,
to your own acts,
have you thought about this,
and how do you now react?

Long Struggle Not Settled by Almighty

Quite sad,
in bed,
little he said,
prayed,
and sighed,
two tear drops,
fell by the side,
there it had fallen,
he was crestfallen,
picking broken pieces,
of his dreams,
he was in murky waters,
of despair,
with little hope,
of anything positive to preen,
this was his 700th night,
that he had carried the lone fight,
how much longer will it last,
at the rate of two tears a day,
he had enough to the Almighty to say.

Regress

This paper in front of me,
stares at me,
I return the stare vaguely,
I have ideas,
that need to travel,
the distance to paper,
My pen is willing,
but hand is not,
wrists ache,
as more ideas,
come clamoring,
for escape,
I am making effort,
to queue them,
in discipline,
they areclimbing,
from all over,
in pell mell,
poor paper,
sits worthlessly there,
waiting for me to give it dress,
and give it value,
its only fear is that,
a writer like me,
may not tire soon,
and simply regress.

Peaceful Shore

I am troubled,
The inner sea,
is in turbulence,
I heard many,
and it is in zany,
waves rising up,
with each meaning,
of the word heard,
whether meant or not,
I relate it to critical,
these matters,
had my attention for life,
now even a word,
spoken in context others,
makes me believe,
it is about these and me,
I wished I were asleep,
and not hearing anymore,
and reach the peaceful shore.

Imprisoned In Life

Fetters,
in letters,
locked,
in speech,
shut,
in mouth,
stunted,
in ideas,
he simply,
was bound,
no one,
was there,
to bring him around,
he simply miffed,
breathed in,
and asyphixated,
he kept quiet for life,
and died leading,
a life mostly free of rife.

Tandem of Life Forces

Things happen at their own pace,
and time,
we make them,
plan them,
and expect,
the outcomes,
but do they match,
ever expectations,
sometimes they do and sometimes they do not,
how many times did they in full,
can you remember sharp and fast,
life is causal,
and causes millions,
your computing abilities,
are limited to one or two causes,
rest of them are conjectural becauses,
all such factors are out of our control,
and still you merrily roll,
whether its bouquet or axe,
you continue to wax,
if you can somehow structure the random,
you would have all life forces running in tandem.

Not there with my Mind

Hell is my mind,
heaven is my mind,
ghetto is my mind,
palace is my mind,
it is unfurnished,
and furnished,
it is a umble of extremes,
it is stable,
and quite a fable,
it has with this rot,
made many learn,
and called well taught,
I wonder if they will preserve mine,
like they did of many,
who did the maximum whine,
even if they did it would be of little use,
because I would not be there with my mind.

Return Favor

To the right,
to the left,
swagger it was,
I swear by my word,
you did not come to my aid,
lest I had fallen,
you watched,
as I staggered along,
and stumbled on stones,
now it is my turn,
you are looking at me,
to lend you hand,
I will keep both behind,
and watch you go down,
even if you have a frown.

Intentional

Speak now,
if you want to,
Keep silent,
if you want to,
I cannot force you,
to do either,
I am speaking,
because I wanted to.

Unfurnished Mind

Oblong,
curved,
rectangular,
squared,
circular,
spherical,
hexagonal,
cubical,
and traingular,
these were and several others,
the shapes,
of millions,
of partitions in my memory,
I was looking to fit ideas of shapes similar,
but fits were far and wide,
I needed to stock likes and alikes,
but all lay strewn,
harried and troubled,
I had to admit,
that I had an unfurnished mind.

Candle versus Man

Candle,
cylinder,
of wax,
with a thread,
end to end,
spread,
a break in middle,
limps the fiddle,
and reduces,
the candle,
to a riddle,
our lives,
are like candles,
soul threads them,
like handles,
a broken soul,
lessens the light,
and it would not be long,
before you break yourself,
to limit to unbroken thread,
and burn in parts to death.

Enjoying Life

Live life king size,
enjoy the most,
rule too roost,
eat the toast,
make fun,
and be merry,
leave the thorns,
and eat the berry,
all of us want this,
and doing work?
do not ask,
can do only some of it,
that too quite unwillingly,
in the time,
that is left,
after making merry,
and is valued at not even a dime.

Mulling over the Idea

Mull over idea,
its all I have,
and all you got,
toss it,
toast it,
mince it,
grate it,
till it is good,
or proven bad,
then,
smash it,
burn it,
bury it ,
like you never had.

Pencil

Oh! pencil,
you are rough,
each time,
I use you,
you protest,
do a little good work,
and then thicken,
like a married woman,
no longer ready to be wooed,
how I wished you stayed sharp,
and let me use you like a sword,
you do not know your worth,
you can change grief to mirth,
and mirth to death,
your tip is the nucleus,
of this world,
it has my ideas and mind,
you lead them to space,
so please do not loose shape,
even if I badly do scrape.

Shot at the Shot

Bullseye,
on dot,
marksman,
archer,
and a great shot,
each aim,
for him was a killed game,
he struck fear,
when he began to shake,
and have his armament leer,
he did not know,
that his days,
were near for taking a bow,
another of his clan,
had a long plan,
this time when he took the aim,
and could utter victim's name,
a little pain traversed,
from his temple to temple,
and he bowed and fell,
in a pool of blood ample.

Now and Here

Brisk,
fast,
alert,
energetic,
strong,
wide eyed,
spirited,
expectant,
optimistic,
running,
smooth,
headlong,
into nowhere,
a pillar came,
and he crashed dead,
now and here.

Men And Women

Men are men,
no doubt about that,
then,
women are women,
is there any doubt about that too,
men have been given jobs,
so have been women,
but what happens when you do vice versa,
not my worry,
I am not a world's job describer,
But some things I can say for sure,
there would be time of immense confusion,
quite difficult to endure,
some jobs can be done by strong,
weak are at best for such jobs wrong,
whether women are weak,
or the men strong,
I know not,
but the exchange scheme,
is going to raise such cases,
and the world is gonna repeatedly ask,
for those days,
when they used to say,
men are men,
and women are women,
now the question would be,
for how long?

Simply to Carry on Living

The fly flew,
The bird flew.
Soaring in blue yonder,
raking in my wonder,
were the spirits free,
or bound by nature,
the flight was a pursuit,
of the grounds for food,
the moment it was sighted,
the flight turned into a dive,
to have at the food a good jibe,
it is human nature,
to dream and raise own stature,
and imagine himself flying,
free with spirits hanging somewhere there,
mistaking the birds for their efforts,
which was simply to carry on living.

Having Himself

He read the words,
Meanings were common enough,
ninety out of hundred said so,
and words held the same meaning for him now,
somewhere along his mental bones got tired,
and he could not read them all,
some he caught and other he allowed to fall,
the meaning now that emerged,
was the one which exceptional ten had,
ten were having fun and reading for it,
but he had a task to do and job to take care,
when he delivered that meaning he himself was had and bare.

Death Sentence

Stark,
naked,
bare,
stare.

Full,
pull,
forced,
gorged.

hammered,
stammered,
grammered,
wrote.

logical,
symmetrical,
spherical,
formatted,

delivered,
couriered,
in cell,
was the death sentence.

More than I could Chew

Brine,
in my hairs,
twined,
sun,
shining hard,
having no fun,
eyes bloodshot,
like pigeon blimps,
sight as yet limp,
muscles taut,
of legs,body and arms,
for each step I fought,
the swim was long,
deep and far in sea,
I think taking effort so much was wrong.

Best

Haranguing,
tongue,
bitter mind,
rancid thoughts,
cruel eyes,
violent hands,
smashing legs,
disdainful chest,
he was always trying,
to prove that he was best.

Subjugation

Man shoulder that burden,
you are a beast,
here is my whip,
but where is your back,
you tire now so soon,
remember the days,
when I had my say,
got you to work,
in the worst of murk,
Now you are timourous,
and a rebel,
it is there in your eyes,
to a multiple of a treble,
tone it down,
and recognize yourself,
you are my beast,
to say the least.

Cake of a Garden

Tending the garden,
was fun,
under that warm sun,
grass was smooth and soft,
and my little kids watched from the loft,
I gingerely walked through the plants,
admired the flowers,
and sprinkled the damp,
water globules rolled down the leaves,
sweeping fine dust right,
from inside their cleaves,
they looked happy and glowing,
as if merrily whistle blowing,
the flowers smiled all the more coy,
what a sight it was oh! boy,
it made my day,
to take in fresh breeze,
as blue yonder sent its love,
from heven aloof,
fruits weighed more,
numbing the poor stems,
trees seem to say,
we are true in our faith,
we have left wealth,
for you to rake,
stop it now,
or I will break,
this garden,
is my life's cake.

Thought

Thinker,
did tinker,
it turned out to be a clinker,
made noise inside,
was good besides,
it was taken,
and spoken.

Last Imprints

Jammed in sand,
my imprints were clear,
they reminded me of those time,
that were in the least very dear,
It was the walk,
which made the talk,
it was the amble,
which was my biggest gamble,
I had firmly dug,
my feet with a determine lug,
I had gone across,
from from real,
to the undefined ethereal,
in front of mass of people,
on the sea shore with sea in ripple,
I had vanished in thin air,
leaving behind my earthly wares.

Waist

Girth,
at birth,
was slender,
and fragile tender,
like stem,
when youth rammed,
with strength in jammed,
like a storing pot,
when began the middle rot,
as the middle advanced to higher ages,
the pot hung,
as if it was another storey and rung,
now at the death all appears waste,
as badly hung and bowed is my waist.

Crowd Reaction

Hysteria,
outcry,
shrieks,
and shouts,
clamour,
rush,
and pell mell,
of crowds,
tears,
bloods,
and,
as they all fled,
it was simple,
that they had changed,
the venue,
for free distribution,
of the movie tickets,
in which their favorite hero held the wicket.

Sweet Ride

Bull me,
will you,
I like,
rides,
you,
like the drive,
don't you,
it is clear,
that you do,
misrepresent to me,
tell me a lie,
turn me around,
and misguide me in full,
I think you know that I know,
that you do this and more,
if you do not know this side,
are you not yourself on a sweet ride.

Message

This word fits,
with the other one,
and that other one,
with these two,
I have chosen more,
and all seem to belong,
to where they are shored,
you now read them all,
does anything in your mind,
ring and heavily fall,
whatever you understood,
did you get time to brood,
now put them back on paper,
and let me see,
how much did I taper.

Future Sight

Dreamt,
a sequence,
it was at that,
pretty frequent,
it had never occurred,
in real plane,
but it had become my bane,
It was a small loss,
that was played,
but it had me worried,
with anticipation laid,
I feared what ran in my mind,
was a futuristic hind.

Palm Lines

Far off,
in that land,
she showed me her hand,
it had lines in delicate flesh,
hands as if she had done hardly anything,
that she had saved them for future,
the same future that she wanted read,
I read and read the intricate lines,
applied my formula and stories,
and gave her her future,
I parted from that land,
But knew for sure,
one thing about that future,
that it was not bright,
not that I could read anything,
in her hands,
but that looking at her hand,
I could see that she hardly does anything,
and a parasite like her was not going to survive for long,
whether she had a palm line straight or oblong.

Her Harp

Scathing,
and sharp,
it was her harp,
it registered,
with shrill overtones,
as if an irritating fly droned,
it canned in these sounds,
inside my mind,
I kept canning them,
days after days,
till I was full to seams,
and ready to explode,
and explode I did,
with all sound on her quietly slid.

Hectic Mind

Hectic,
mind,
lethargy,
gripping,
in a mind,
all worries,
nagging,
right behind,
I was going,
under this grind,
no solace,
not for second,
to find,
my nerves,
are taut,
like they faught,
my eyes are shot,
like blood pots,
I am boiling,
and coiling,
if I could get,
that moment,
It would stop,
the foment,
I would cool,
and turn to mental wool.

Python

Python,
lay there,
and just so,
eyes shut,
serpentine length,
showing all guts,
the conical menace,
of its face,
riveted open,
every half an hour,
for god know what,
I watched with revulsion,
I know not why,
was its glistening grey,
or for its cchimerical,
lay for a prey,
it was in siesta,
and looking for fiesta,
I watched in fascination,
as it moved inches,
and then stopped,
I imagined how in its,
hundreds of pounds,
would it crush,
we have pythons in humans,
look for them,
their features are same,
and never ever,
let them call out your names.

Break Yourself

By breaking my will,
my determination,
my strength,
and my self,
what would you get?

a broken me,
that's me as yet not me,
would you recognize me,
still want to use me,
and want me to be around.

You may then want to throw me,
in a garbage bin across the road,
shut it tight so that I never return for a fight,
would you not miss me,
even if you now wish to kill me.

think again,
when breaking me,
how much will you be hurt,
it is said and known,
while whipping you often break the whip,
and inside with each hit,
will you not break yourself.

Surplus Billions

I take so little from this world,
a bread,
some spread,
little water,
some air,
that lifes me,
and dry my wares,
a little space,
to fall flat,
when I had enough of pace,
some shards to cover me,
and some books to read,
that is all I need,
why are you jealous,
of me,
dont you get even this much,
or are you worried about my billions,
which are anyway surplus.

Baby Cry

Sojourn in sparse woods,
for long in sleep,
sleep that was deep,
under the trees,
that were free,
under the sky,
that now smiled and then cried,
under the sun,
that gave you fun and had you on the run,
I kept still,
years after year,
without any substance or support,
I was deep in contemplation,
and knew not where I was,
my mind was zero,
my heart was zero,
I was one with nature,
and forgot about my stature,
into oblivion I was lost,
I woke up with the cry of a baby,
and was astonished to see,
that the cry was mine.

Rumour

Psssssttttt......!
are you listening?
Don't,
Its not worth it!

Your venom

Snakes have venom,
to spew,
what do you have,
your words?

Honesty Slip

Grapple with it,
lest it slips,
dont let it go,
lest it slips,
stick to it,
lest it slips,
get inside it,
lest it slips,
yes,honesty,
it is that I am talking about,
don't let that slip.

Mental Fetter

You want two coppers,
and many golds,
and many more diamonds,
what for?
will you eat them,
you may wear them,
but for how long,
and to what avail,
you might sell them,
get money,
what would you do with money,
you can eat only as much as you want to,
you can live only in space required by your cubic feet,
you can wear better,live better,
but how do you define better,
is it really better,
or just a mental fetter.

War Vapor

I think you are wrong,
and I am right,
there is a gap,
persistent and perennial,
I am unhappy always,
and at wars,
they are my wars,
I am advocate,
in my own courts,
and decide myself,
but mostly in my own favor,
one day I did a little labor,
and decided in that man's favor,
my wars reduced from that day,
as if steamed into vapor.

Brag to fraud

Brag....you want to...always,
don't you,
have you analysed the brag,
ever,
do it now,
you do one,
and you count thousand,
and relate a million,
all who heard you,
and understood you,
set you up for a test,
in dark future,
till the time of test,
they gave you respect,
and allowed you calm rest,
most probably when test comes,
it is only one done by you that runs,
rest of the million you related fail,
and now you have a life,
of dishnor and to boot it all up a fraud tale.

Proud Sky

Harsh sky,
inexplicably blank,
A lonesome me amidst crowd,
stared for recognition up,
and seek a connection,
between ground and heaven,
came none,
cruel sky,
spoke of none,
it quietly saw,
me getting lonelier in crowd,
it would not descend,
it was too proud.

The Right

Heed it,
it is right,
do not fight,
it is right,
if you fight,
dust you will bite,
if you do not,
you manipulated,
right to wrong,
and sang your song,
now you will fight,
because you have your own right,
but you have at best a short sight,
somewhere it is still right,
and there you cannot manipulate,
however hard you may try,
you have now added to your account,
and have to explain all the wrongs,
that you did along with this one,
there you will have no chance to fight,
because they have a right,
to punish you for ignoring the right.

Sleeps in Sleeps

I slept,
as if I was a dog kept,
sleep was long and deep,
in future,past and present it peeped,
I worked hard and slept,
in my sleep,
as if I was a dog kept,
sleeping inside sleep was not new,
but I slept inside second sleep,
again working like logging woods,
and slept,
again like a dog kept,
I do not know how many sleeps made me sleep with in,
But I was in coma,
and behind layers of sleep,
it was like a fog web,
that had crawled all over,
and wept,
a jerk made me wake up,
the web collapsed,
and reality came in focus all wrapped.

Blow It !

Blow it all,
enjoy it,
what is going to happen,
did anything happen,
when you did not,
and clung to each morsel,
try this as well,
blow it all,
you can cite the difference in two,
if you cannot let me do,
if you were frugal,
you pitted your lifetime,
against what you had or can,
then tried an even spread,
now when you are spend thrift,
you find your life in near fatal rift,
or gamble on a dice when time comes to sift,
till that time you want to spread it thick,
do it,its an acceptable way,
I only hope future gamble does show an hopeful ray.

Reading a Book

A book by a person,
had his ideas,
I read his words,
they matched my ideas,
and thoughts,
there was something new,
and something put in a way new,
I read it and kept on doing thus,
till I finished it on a running bus,
the reading had consumed time,
and I could not do any other acts,
but book had lent me ideas,
that were good enough to save,
time through more apt acts,
to more than compensate for the lost time slots.

Life's Hose

Stymied voice,
rose,
indicating,
new spirit flows,
thorugh life's hose.

Nature Gel

Gel,
densely,
with your nature,
identify it before you do!

Memory Bind

Human memory,
how far can it go,
with what accuracy,
look at the puny mind,
and the enourmous space,
it tries to keep in its bind.

Life defined simply.

Still,
active,
or both,
till you are,
balled,
as a moth.
........life defined simply.

Nation

National flag fluttered,
on the day of national honor,
leader beamed so did his cronies,
all other 'vegetable' that had gathered around,
had little spirit and sound,
whatever they made,
they made out of compulsion,
of one or the other kind,
strange nation appeared elated,
while nationals quite and thoroughly deflated.

Deluge

Brimful were eyes,
however,it was that single drop,
that opened the flood gates,
and the deluge would not stop.

Tempered Knife

Sharp edge,
singed in with heat,
a knife tempered red,
was as bad as it could get.

Spoke

Spoke less,
did not feel like,
lips refused,
and tongue got tied,
throat was dry,
I gulped a little swig,
then spoke in a veritable gig.

Freezing my steps

Lifted feet for the step,
it froze,
what idiocy and crap,
in the midway,
what had made it freeze,
it was deliberate and intended,
all steps they freeze like that,
a lot of thawing later,
I do take it anyway,
but imagine the cells,
that translate from cold to heat,
every now and then,
will they be good to stand me in this human.

Do Think

Eat,
drink,
and sleep,
what else you do,
do think?

My prison

In prison,
of my own making,
I am unable to do what I can,
I stay still while I can dash and run.

Life Story

This is my story,
a lot of fiction and dream,
its float on the rim like the cream,
that hides the real dish that is just a little.

Mean Streak

The main in the man,
meant just an average and mean,
that was selfish and mean,
this streak was pain in the pane,
as if pinch of salt larger than required in pan,
it traveresed life,
which ended at 80 and five.

Intellectual Tolerance

Lie in rest,
you have done your bit,
allow others now,
to use all of their wits.

Apple in Blood Plasma

An apple,
how it translated to blood plasma,
was a wonder,
cells work overtime,
here and beyond yonder.

Reborn

Rooftop was open,
and I was free,
I slid to edge,
and took the plunge,
Where I reached,
was a rooftop more open,
from where I took another plunge,
and was reborn.

Mad Race

Point,
an arrow,
straight line,
vast space around,
objective,
also a straight line to point,
lost badly in space,
leaving me in mad race.

Blinding Brilliance

Blinded by you brilliance,
I blinked,
could not see much for long,
I still do not know what went wrong,
when I should have now seen,
all rights and all wrongs.

Churning Words

Stone tossed in water,
caused ripples,
your words,
churn me inside,
though straight and simple.

Spirit

This body,
is what I feel,
this spirit,
eludes,
yet present,
in around,
and everywhere,
yet I do not feel,
why?

Seer Speak

Thus spake the seer,
this world is yours,
do not fear,
have faith,
breathe freely do not bate,
walk and run,
and have fun,
lead the life,
even if you have strife,
be happy,
remain zappy,
full of life,
its only one,
and you cannot have five.

Tracking Others

He was anxious to know,
where I was on tow,
what I was wont to do,
and how did I do,
In the process he sat idle,
and missed his work,
some people are like that,
tracking other they grow fat.

Dreams to Reality

Sleeping in the soft,
cosy and held aloft,
the dreams hit me one by one,
elevating to a realm unknown,

First one that I had,
was indeed very bad,
I had lost a friend,
and was very sad,

Second one which slipped,
almost had me ripped,
it was me ,
who was beaten and whipped.

Third one that conjured,
had me coy and demure,
I had won millions,
and was dreaming zillions,

Dreams are after all just that,
they often fall flat,
these also did,
I got up , washed and had the sweat dirt rid.

Help her Carve for Halloween

She was a little toddler,
Rotund with baby flesh,
All over,
Eyes shining in anticipation and excitement,
She was the one I had,
Her mother had died in child birth years ago,
My little one was reared in my manly care,
Though it was at best bare,
Leaving me sad,
All that I saw since was red,
And felt less good than bad,
I often lay morose and down,
I lit up only when she was shown,
Often it was she who came to my bed,
Caressing me with those little palms,
Rubbing those ruddy cheeks against mine hot ones,
Looking deep in her blue eyes,
Made me feel that I had deep sea dive with a sigh,
All days were alike for me-sad and forlorn,
But she was discovering and frolicking like a latest born,
Today she came,
While I was still mentally lame,
She had a secretive look,
As if she had something on brook,
She coyly smiled,
Lighting me for a little while,
And left, yes simply left,
She would come to me every fifteen minutes,
But now she was gone for an hour,
I weakly lifted and walked to her room,
There it all looked mire than ever in need of broom,
There she was in a corner on the carpet,
With pumpkin flesh all over the floor,
And on her face, hands, legs as if in a messy gore,
She had a knife in her hand,
And she was stooping on a murdered pumpkin,
As I called her she looked up,
She had long forgotten about her sup,
Her eyes met mine,
An energy flashed into me,
Her innocence and joi de vivre went up livid,
And I could remember this day quite vivid,
It was this day years ago when her mother had flown,
Leaving my baby and me on my own,
But now the mother came alive in her baby,
And was saying ,"dead I may be",
Rise up and make her life,
Look at her preen,
And help her carve for Halloween.