Scenery as the dream flakes
Bringing pictures with ideas, thoughts and reflections
On the minds-cape,
The sea waves surging and washing the shore.
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Your religion love I not,
What it is in humanity and liberalism,What it in being a man loving a man,A small man’s thoughts like I not,Believing in a narrow society.
When I see the ancient temples of India
And sculptural beauty,Cut out in rock design,Chiselled and hewed outOf the large chunks of stoneOr hills converted into,I feel baffled to speak of the written words,Which the petty poets pride over.The embroidery work done in stone,Flowers carved out of stone,Designed and modelled,No less than poetry,As and when we glimpse overThose temples of grand historical past,Which…
O wild flower, how to view you,
Wildly beautiful to look at,Ravishing hue!Wild flower, I see you hangingIn the forest tracts,Visitors come and pass by,But know notWhat it in your hue!Had I known your beauty,Had I hue and rioting colours,I would have shown to them,Would have kept on display,But a poor judge stand I hereWithout any knowledge of you!What your name and…
A writer of near about fifty collections of poems am I,
Have been sidetracking me for quite a long time,Negating and ignoring me,So many locally brought out collections have I,Even worked I on the history of Indian English poetryAt my own expenses,Strenuous study took a heavy toll upon my healthBut left I not writing poetry.
Were you a ghummakkad,
A sadhu,A yogiOr a bhogi?An Arya Samajist,A Boddha Bhikkhu,A Marxist socialistOr a mahapanditb bhashavid?