Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Monday, July 15, 2013
For it wasn't too late, putting,
And in the way of it, admitting,
When thought, were my resemblances.
Never was there, his inner bent,
Though, somewhere haunting,
And dust-ups, partly resolving
Ready, to come on another argument.
Here is the time of flow in fetters,
where matters deep run and float,
Often to resolve a buried play,
to function and dote.
Where have these matters been staying?
An attempt lost in brazening those out,
Forgiveness does not work anymore,
Those clocks crumble and clout!
Moving in images, imagining,
The beats rested, yet pounding,
Nothing was much to say in whispers.
So on he went to pour tears galore,
In the seam, the space seeing,
For that, the eyes pinning,
In verity, he, somewhere offshore!
The Mirror muzzles
the picture it presents,
The heart receives,
What it pretends.
Often I see
the picture inside me,
The razor removes,
The character evolves me.
The stigma annexed,
Crumbles with fever,
The want subsided,
Me, that raising-river.
Don’t want to mess
the gears I’ve got,
The stockades still little,
I play with fiddle.
The waves go
and dash the shore,
The depth sand bar,
I die for more.
May be, this I call uncertain,
Cause of the alarm I have:
The figure moves in me,
Bending the blight I have!
Though skidding the ear-marked destination,
The fuss goes on like this to pseudo style.
when it was too easy to escape,
when the holy basil surrounded
the memories of many,
when I fiddled with my own map.
The day of moderns began
with the mighty shapes of alphabets,
the digits grew more dominant than petals,
Turned with these all, I join the rats.
These fissure and yet I crave for the phase when all was abeyant,
That tranquillity, I address and eyeteeth: the fountain of this face,
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
the nursery wines,
the rollicking riders and the eerie mimes!
The lost flickers...
where lavenders bloom,
Hope I ride faster
to drop you till moon!
Go in the winds or go soon,
I ride the same...
where itching sweeps,
No one there to blame!
Friday, October 29, 2010
You and I go on a road of motion,
Of substance there-
The loss of substance with a feel,
Gone is all other despite solution and zeal.
The roads form and split,
The inner iron without looking at past;
The past riven with success
Mystifies today with lost axis.
Follow the roads -- the walking roads-
Deviate and it leaves you,
Reroute and it cautions:
‘I’m the walking road needing judgment and diligence’.
Severing the glooms of dust, the one
who clears the road’s matrix
becomes the needed Ulysses of now and fore;
the one we heard about in a chronic folk-lore.
Love, a sweet aroma to attract,
A rosy sound to enchant,
A palpable feel to evoke,
More becomes – a penchant.
The welts and warps of emotions
Keep bonding apace,
Fill remote rambling gaps
And prevent all space.
No demands no complaints,
But somewhere these creep up;
These are leaves of love
Some day will rise up.
Colossal prospect dooms to fall:
A stumbling block that love can’t sever,
Space to me, space to you
Reserves love forever with you.