Category: poetry

Why are we here
To stand, pause
And just stare?
Or wait
For a whiff of fresh air
Thoughts that surprise
Flowers that have no price
Grow In the garden
That is manured
By the tears uncalled
A journey to nowhere
But stalled
I m now
Here
Thanks to the steps
I faltered
You stopped
And halted
The sway of a storm
Untamed and
With a mind of its own

When I was in pain
I was born again
You sculpted me afresh
In the rain
When I was in pain
The clay dissolved
The North Star moved
A bit away
From its well settled
Position, it held its sway
Now I m here
In pain again
Why have I suffered
The redeeming healing
Is it the fear
Of losing care
The truth
That I may not dare
To say and share
But why will I hide
The remarks you made
Vicious and snide
But does it really matter
Who cares, what will a pod scatter

Seeds ripe to sow the pain
Again
You sculpt me in the rain
You sculpt me in the Rain

Do I miss that
You ask
In a yellow cafe
With blue curtains
Set amidst a trove of palms
Most are tall
But some might have
Sprouted
Recently
May be a few years ago
They are still trying to
Gather
Enough haughty strength
To bear with storms
May be in a desert
Of desires
To touch
to feel
And
To smell
The aroma of breaths
That often connect the purity of
Heart
Like passing through a tunnel
Of tense corridor of concern
And a smiling sky
Laden with a quilt of clouds
With no doubt
Little to hold
Little to choose
And you ask
Do I miss
A kiss
That engraves signature
Of timeless love
Of yesteryears hanging like a curtain
On a worn out window
With lose hinges
And who knows
The panes may give way
Next time you bang the door
In anger at my patience
And also the placidity
Of pure love
As if a green creeper on a dead tree
Embraces the breeze
And then with a twinkle in its eye
Smile at the snail
Who is walking slowly
To the same place
Where you asked
Do you really miss
Do you
Do

distances could not drive the fear
out of a black small cat
she remained still
under a window

half open
as if
light had got tired of remaining inside
so started filtering out
slowly
just as curtain moved
and wind blew it away
i could see clearly
the reflection of a broken mirror
on that wall
on which calendar still showed a year old date

peaks are assailable now
said the falcon
and a storm took off
but like a love and hate relationship
between creativity and Skill
her wings flapped, and then faltered
her dreams had not foreseen
a avalanche
so severe
that all the fences
that farmer had built at the base of the mountain
will give way
her nest with young ones wasn’t around
had they flown away in time
she might find out soon
peaks are still assailable

embryo of love
was so sure
green as it was
but devoid of any doubt
it embarked upon its own journey
in a maze of sounds
lights and touches all over
but it needed to swim
in a lake of tears
which had washed the steps of the temple
where purity was worshipped
will you come with me to pray
come
pray
be pure

all was in sync
but then something
held you back
from giving your best
was it a desire to explore
new avenues
or just
a wish to explore avenues for flying too high
but then
all layers are in sync again
dont draw too many red lines
blues are ok, pink will do too
may be a bit of yellow
but dont draw red lines only

wasted tears
spent years
why would one scatter
all the rays
when the white sun was served on a platter

when the prayers are in vain
the struggles of the lost souls
demands
many more lamps to be lighted
the children who
lost the innocence
before they knew what it was
to be carefree
are not going to wait indefinitely
like a swarm of locusts
they will devour
all tbe flowers
you tend
in your garden
hoping that
nimble fingers that pollinated them
will remain quiet
for ever

Generosity

When every good turn
Is returned with scorn
And indifference,
Negligence
And
Contempt
And you continue trying