Happy birds

Birds over trees do not know when hunter will shoot them.
They happily chirping, singing, and swinging over branches.
before they fall motionless, unknown of what is death.
that floats in the air above head every moment.

Behold, if you know there is the end, coming near.
Cycles of seasons and you are part of wheel,
You are licking material world, burning other side.
One who came will go without exception.

If you are wise, strive for your dream,
Before candle turns off, and leave you in dark unknown.
Don’t be slave of sins and dirty your time.
Be crazy but live pure upon this earth.

Rose Left in a park

Sober wilted petals, red and shades of pink,
All scattered, mixed with sand,
hidden amongst leaves
drifted down the park.

I born, sprouted out of green steam
surrounded by thorns,
I set to blast colors,
smoke of aroma.

Whatever you wear,
I am here to bloom your love.
My beauty, your passions,
I will last in short, as life does.

Strangers pressed below shoes,
stories vanished, and
I turned into dust,
from master of creation.

Those greedy eyes I gathered.
one plucked me for few pennies,
and hold close to nose,
sniffed, charmed with aroma.

He remembered her,
recalled memories, meetings,
longed for her tender voice, and
frail curves.

I was passed
from one hand to other.
uplifted wave of romance,
Fury of waves attacking shore.
I witnessed from tables.
Both mingled, exchanged kisses.
As they lip-locked
both melted, dissolved together,

Joker did his job,
to steal her heart,
won her flesh and body,
just to lock into his house.

I was at start and nowhere else.
He coarsed her,
kicked broken petals,
to place no one comes.

Love was replaced with sinister,
Happenings, fear.
She staggers, search for water,
Lips whisper for her share.

She tears me and eats in regret,
“is it what world, real one”
She is with me,
broken pieces of lonely heart

No Love, laughter or light,
No caring meets and merry.
Just tears, violence and fight,
Wait for time to pass by.

Sober wilted petals, red and shades of pink,
All scattered, mixed with sand.

Slice of sin

This cup of coffee, black and brawny, Sugar and sweet- drinking wavering memory.
Oscillating, crazy ride to know truth, trials.
Blond and beauty, seizes, clutches this heart, stands erect on my way, and leaves rushing heart turbulent.
Force of love violets solace. just come together and dissolve.
Look at creatures, wailing and moaning with days of labor, rise and fall like cascade finding its way.
I am stretched out trembling, stimulated, and sinned happily.
Somewhere labor, somewhere peace, tremor or excitation. My way of life, my way of liberation.
Sinner or house full of sinners, devils live in my heart, all magnifying, catalyzing, going high and high.
Show- Which monk says – I am free of sins? Look his selfish drive, desire of doctrine, Work for god who nowhere exists for atheist.
Sunshine- Bright, flashy, splash of all colors, lasts like slice of sin that burns flesh and fire.

Coffee on my desk

Amul coffee tin on the desk,
grows my thirst.
attracts my gaze,
pulls my hands.

Then it asks me to open its lid,
free trapped coffee,
Enclosed since it was pushed,
and locked after produce.

Juicy coffee succeeds
in fetching my intentions.
Liquid fulfills its wish of
going down a human throat,
touching, and brushing intestine.

Then it wins and meets sole purpose,
Of flowing and travelling
Through human body-limbs, chest,
starting from stomach,
from head to tows.

It liberates proudly after
Refreshing human soul,
Leaving somber, tired mind into
Active, alive and kicking one.

* words wrote in leisure in office.

Gift of Life

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Lines scribbled, while I ponder, don’t follow standards of English or grammar. So, can be called as poem.

Beloved, which gift should be offered?
With your policy of accepting none.
Once paths crossed for short time,
spreading puddle of pearls and music in my heart.

You parted; stab of grief that left some marks,
Awake, alarmed and determined to control and be.
Standing at one end of inaccessible turbulent seashore.
winds were blistering skin, warming this blood in search of you.

Days ended, years passed away.
Time will come when Sun will set,
and night will reign over sombre heart,
Struggle to manoeuvre fumbling breath.

When there was no purpose to be,
I received one to be part of cosmic turmoil,
To hide my face and look your cherubic grin.
So was your gifted presence somewhere in the corner.

World runs like daily treadmill of
getting down the train and chasing another.
Walking or running, I see that horizon,
And your face floating in the mirage.

Safeguarding my presence with full of faith.
When rarely anything is ruled by man.
Goal is to sustain in greater torment,
Staying among selfish ghosts and illness of heart.

Time line of childhood, youth and ageing.
Showing this rhythm of forlorn life.
No furtive meetings, only fight, disconnect and patchwork.
No one is sure I might fade away in next wind.
Leaves floating down branches to reach the earth.

I keep walking, watching colourful canvass,
And your smile, lively presence over it.
I wonder, are you there also,
Your thoughts rekindle my heart,
Strength, vigor rushes into shivering presence.

Story is not unique, I was not alone.
I sailed the ship, spoke with strangers,
More troubled in their own complex puzzles.
Journey leaves me with universal grace.

It rains somewhere at unknown place,
water flows down over dry riverbed.
Birds flock, fly out with renewed glow,
Trees sprout and harvest blooms.
River and its continuous charity!

I welcome you. I welcome you.
Majesty, Let me be yours and pure.
I will sing lasting smile and joyful time.
I shall never know you taught to be myself.
I dedicate my offerings, devotion.
Strong, robust on its own.

Images are lifeless

The images are all lifeless,
I touched with my fingers,
they cannot speak.
I know, for I cried aloud to them.

The images are all lifeless,
They laughed out to me
And I turned more alert.

The images are all lifeless,
They sneered mockingly,
‘I am not there anymore’.
I realized, They are part of history.

Images are all lifeless,
I desired them to be real,
And play with me,
desires made me poor and lonesome,

Images are all lifeless,
Knowing nothing is here.
It’s a treasure of the past,
That I carry along with,
gets heavier unless ignored.