I am in search of a carve to hide myself in jet black
Where a bathing pose is not taken as vulgarity
And after rubbing my tongue against the cavity of my mouth
I do not produce same kind of monotonous tunes
The art of deception is now a known fossil,
No curiosity is roused within me
with hate or love
as it is better to be stoic than to response a false call.
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In my heart and in front of my eyes
It is nothing but it is your fond memoriesIf the soul doesn’t find you beside meThen ask me what is an uneasy and jittery?Among people how I feel lonely!As if my life will end and meet with deathMy blood starts to clot and chocks my breathThe heaven cracks and the hell starts to turn greenAll…
In another time in another kingdom
The first one was very piousAnd went straight to paradise,I was a man full of sin andGod pushed me into a big Hell.The third one was very youngSo he was neither virtuous or viceAnd he was put in a neutral placeBut alas! In the after worldThere is no such kind of things at allI invited…
Too glad I become and in joy my heart cheers
The moment I see people throughThe little hole of the cold coffinFor me they arrangeOnce abusingNow showering praiseGathering upon the straight linesJust before my last ritualBefore that I saw my relativesWhom I never heard throwing kind wordsNow going unconsciousListening the news of my demiseFrom the lipstick coated lips of the news readerAs if they lost…
When I see the old lady
To an old age home leaving her own behindFor every young including me is not enough writing poetryIn protest we should move out from our housesUntil there is no house meant for the old ageOtherwise we will do the same mistakeAs this young lady did when she was youngShe did nothing,In this situation when some…
A house
Can not be builtIt is valueless, tooIf it is rooflessWithout proofAn allegation isLike a house bothBaseless and roofless
The soldier, my life, at war
Without any error or dearth in effort,But at the end got ignominious defeatIn the barrack pondering deep, what is life?Now life is hell, and death is blissMy life, my soldier, thinksJoy or sorrow, defeat or victoryTime eats up all and relieve in historyTwo pennies more or lessExcept love life is meaningless.
I am in search of a carve to hide myself in jet black
Where a bathing pose is not taken as vulgarity
And after rubbing my tongue against the cavity of my mouth
I do not produce same kind of monotonous tunes
The art of deception is now a known fossil,
No curiosity is roused within me
with hate or love
as it is better to be stoic than to response a false call.
Similar Posts
I know what you look for
In between the linesAnd beyond the wordsPerhaps you knowIn search of the sameI have readThousands hearts and mindsBut could not findExceptA few moments of excitementAmong the million most poetic linesOtherwiseI could have told you ‘that’ alreadyAnd I knowHow you feel my agonyPain and angerAs you bear the same sufferingLike that of meIf we get or…
Expects every one when I am on-line
Carried out by the terrorists worldwide as if I have ordered themOr given them permission to carry out those bombing or shooting in my nameRather surprisingly I shout out loud to those who put upThis absurd argument and hold them all responsible for creating terrorismTerrorism is a fruit and all will suffer from this poisonWhoever…
Do not go too far unnecessarily
There you do not go where you are only oneLonely and aloneDo not walk the road even a step on whichYou don’t get any companionAs you know even to do things wrongPersons are needed at least twoOne is for doing the actAnd the other for being acted uponYou may go where you desireAnd speak words…
Life itself narrates a story of which
In setting plotIn creating suspenseWith perfect complication and resolutionBut we are not aware of these as we are not readers not the listenersWe are made characters meant to directly participate in actionsAnd face to faceFaceThe music of nature,Circumstances,Co-incidents,And unseen powers etcBut never meant to be puppetsI have read Thomas HardyAnd I refute him here along…
Smelling sweet
Souls dance the sweetestBreathings cool and heavierEnergetic bodies become lighterOcean deep eyes look brighterIn the swollen veins blood runs fasterExcitement buttons explode togetherSwaying with rhythmWrithing, passion un- fathomRegular intervals thrilling fantasticMysterious melody mystic music.
Few lines
Perfectly rhymedFather saidIt is not a poemI changed courseNext fewI wroteWithout rhymeFather saidIt’s a proseWhat’s makes a poemI was in deep thoughtAnd wrote onSome truthsLike birth and death‘’These smellsLike gospelsPoem is like foliageOf your heartYellowFalls on your pageWith a sweet soundOf music on the ground’’He said.