Just your God-gifted face.
Thank you.
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Man is a traveller
You can’t say it.
I do not know,
ItWhat,What it is,It is in your heart,HeartJust see you,See you from far,From far,One known from far,Far from,Not moving close,Closer to you!
Sabrimala,
End the drama of Sabrimala,Why can they enter into the temple complexOf Sabrimala?What paapa, sin is in itIf they want to worshipWho to sayWhose body impureOr pure?
You called me a poet,
Say you,Local, provincial or nationalOr international?If local, the local peopleCall it notAs have a coterie of their own,If provincial,The state academy has its ownPoet officials,Office-bearers, members or recipients,If national, who is take me thereFrom the provincial level?So let it be,I a poet of my own right,Self-styled and self-published.
The School of Maya,
Dream in,This is my schoolI have grownAnd have been brought upAnd where to goLeaving it,This is my samsara,This is my infatuation,Illusion, hallucination,Maya-moha,Where to go leaving maya-moha?
The poetry
Vasco da Gama,Marcopolo.