Saturday, 29 October 2011

Rains in autumn.

Wonder the trees go dry,
When autumn comes by.
For the gifts it carries along,
Or drop some for it to carry by.

The leaves head to the roots,
Shedding colour on their way.
For the wind to collect,
Make autumn ugly in a beautiful way.

Crisp light, brittle air,
Goosebumps on the trees.
Light thinner shadows,
A million rays from a weed.

The clouds soaked,
In smoking breath,
And still cant drip a sweat.

But why, the sun so strong,
With legends past and beyond,
And head held so high,
But why, it just shies by…???


Saturday, 22 October 2011

Let it melt,
along the rungs to the toe.
Let it flow,
Like a trickle of rain on your brow.

Give me a drop of it,
on my chest and through.
Let it drip from the temple,
When bend to see me.

Bend a little more,
Let run along my arms.
Let the warmth burn my skin,                       
And let my lips help.

Behold its soft tender burns,
No scars but deep agony.
Like the pain in love,
Deeply desired, seldom admired.

And when it runs off my arms,
And tips off my finger,
Just wrap it in your warmth,
Tight and forever.

Just keep it molten
And flowing forever.


Saturday, 12 February 2011

A Monk Bride

Mist shrouded the eyes,
Beauty spread in expanse.
Snow speck stuck to the sole.
Blue sky had a crimson mole.

Hills wore excess of white make-up,
With the red path ways opening up to speak.
Like a lusty new bride, scorching with desires,
Still timid, tender and weak.

A scintillating shiver in the air,
Like just before the first warmth of love.
Shivering of currents of the cold,
as if blood vanishes from above.

Rocks peeping through brown window holes,
Pilfering the fragility of my love.
Standing with innocuous looks.
For they have seen all past Romeos of the bride.

A tacit cascading warm breath,
Mocking me, as if waiting for her lover.
She knew, I was in love,
She knew all the other Romeos were too.

I went closer to the cold warmth,
Spread her arms like the vast mountain ranges.
Mellow hands held me,
And put me to sleep on the cloudy lap.

I woke up from the parade of clouds,
Dusted my limbs
And shoved the white snowy shroud.
She was still there, timid tender, weak and this time; proud.

Love showered from her benign eyes,
Soaked me in pure white.
The ogling rocks smiled,
As they had seen it in the past, and waiting this while.

Her eyes abundant with love,
Never had fallen short.
She loved them all; all the romeos.
And with ample love, as me, they did depart.

She loves them all; all falling in love.
She waits along as a bride.
She is a beautiful monk as a bride.
She never gets married, forever stays a bride.


Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Stolen moments..

Stolen moments, make u steal a smile,
In the crowd of loneliness,
that moment accompanies for miles.

A moment stolen, to be a bad child,
To steal from mom’s closet,
A cookie saved for evening,
Just for a taste as mild.

A stolen moment to wink,
at the girl on next bench.
When teacher scolds,
With teeth tight clenched.

A moment stolen to puff out smoke,
on backyard of the house.
To be grown up as a kid.
The tender feeling of a man to arouse.

A moment stolen,
To close your eyes.
When boredom speaks in class,
To kiss your love through your eyes.

A moment stolen,
To think of your career.
When on field with friends,
Playing with no fear.

A moment stolen in the crowd,
to hold her by your side.
And then not look her into the eye,
When she stares from inches beside.

A moment stolen,
To kiss the first kiss again.
Drenched in that wish,
Caught in the office cabin.

A moment stolen,
To think of these moments.
Is a new life stolen,
Filled with these moments.


Monday, 7 February 2011

It's dark....

Have you ever thought,
Or even have you told?
The wind generally blows,
For the dark to be cold.

Just sit in the dark,
And wtch through the sky.
The wind is blown from,
the grass and trees standing high.

The dark grows cold,
For the blood to be warm.
Love is the soul,
And in the dark is darned.

Dark is the place,
For peace and the shine.
Dark is the time,
For love to be divine.

Dark is what,
Brings two souls together.
Be it passionate lovers,
Or a scared kid and mother.

Dark is the blanket,
That engulfs the bright sun.
Dark is a hope,
Of life at the horizon.


I dont know....

Why do I ask from life,
When it submits with no wish?
How do I live it all,
If I wander as a fish?

Why am I lost all the time?
Seldom do I see.
Does life mean just live,
Or is it for myself to know?

Is life nectar for a bee?
Or wood for its pecker?
Should it be the comb for it?
Or a room for the hatcher?

Is the life bound by love?
Or love you need to live?
Does anxiety lead you through life?
Or life makes you struggle to know?

I don’t know how to live,
I am just being through it.
Am I making all of my life,
Or am I not paying a bit?


Born again....

Warm toe jerked rolling chair smirked.
Dead brown veins pleading the wicked cornea.
Crisp weeds, prick the soles.
That winter there had never felt,
Warmth of a pounding heart.

Silhouettes with wine glasses,
Clattering along carpals.
Staring askance at me.
Clattering to the tunes,
of the hotel of eagles’

chill whispering grievously,
with a venomous breath.
One finger finding other in vain,
For a moment of warmth.

Whizzed past, a grim faced cart.
Towing a carriage of shrieking shadows.
Feet Stumbled faster,
For a bite of sun, a prick of meadows

Ducked head in the hollow,
hollow void of beats.
Ran with a belching spine,
Reaching for a carnal home.

After miles of silent chase,
Felt crimson shine on a toe.
Climbed the edge of hill,
And dove into the valley so mellow.

Stretched my shoulders in rejoice,
Felt red filling in veins.
Heart yelped out of chest,
I am being born again.


I want to sing....

I don’t want to cry,
Coz my heart burns out.
Its better to lie,
As the soul walks out.

I don’t want to live,
When my love does depart.
I wish I could die,
Than living in parts.

She has walked down the way,
And left me all alone.
I wanted to sing her a song,
In her melodious tone.

I could not sing her the song,
She had already left.
I sit here by her side,
And sing to console my heart.

Who would make beautiful,
The silly songs I wrote for her.
The best of the melodies if I get,
Would I ever sing for her.

She showered all praises,
For silly words I wrote.
Deep within our hearts we knew,
Its love that makes it a song.

I promise not to write anything silly,
I promise to write good verse.
Please come back to tune my song,
I can’t bear on the curse.

If you cant come back forever,
Please come back for a while.
Listen to a last song of mine,
I would sing longer than a while.

Even if that is not to happen,
Tell the mighty god there.
Lift me up to his court,
and I will sing for you there.