Of the creation, creator is no where
In his creation as this is not a dream
That from it a dreamer is inseparable
Poetry does not contain the poet, he
Pours his emotion and simply walk off
Sighing, every one would have got his
Or her creator if we found the painter in his
Painting as we find a dancer in flesh
And blood in his or her art, dancing
This is utterly blasphemous to claim
By a creation that its creator mingles
Within as it is disgraceful to say that
The sinner is contained by the sin,
KnowledgeSomethingOld fashionedBut I likeTo be emptyAnd vacantTo renewTo be lightBy sheddingAnythingOf my lifeas it becomesJunk scriptedBondOverusedTiredUnsuitab leFor the lifeModernUnable to explainUnpredictableMeetThe challengeOf the presentDemandThoughThey are very fearfulI am very braveTo be ignorantAgainOf loss and profitIn love and lifeAs it was blissEven a slight pieceof anything usedTo keep meSmilling and pleasedAs I did not knowwhat was…
He is neither a Mr. Universe nor an EinsteinAnd I have no connection whatsoever with him any wayExcept the wounds he developsInside himAnd allow him to be eaten away slowlyIn feeding the termites he hostsBurn his soulFleshBoil his bloodIn the flames of fire he kindlesAnd silently heading towards his graveIs he a coward or braveA…
like a tiny grain of sandand let them rot somewherein the nether worldIt’s a flying insult to a poetworking like an ounceof decomposing salton his rays of hope and flickering ambitionand a huge dishonor shownto the drops of sweatand red corpuscles of bloodwith which they are passionately writtenI answer when I am askedwhy I pin…
Come and compete with meIn this race of laughingWith your innocuous laughWhy I am laughingNo one knows the reasonNot even myselfYet I am laughing loud‘Coz laugh gets me to laughThinking I should stopBut that very thoughtTitillates me insideAnd I againBurst into a loud laughPutting my nails into the holes of my noseWhy I am laughing…
Yet I have a plan real naughty and mischievousTo check whether their affections genuine or notI lay flat and stop my nerves and close my eyesJust like a man under attack by a bear in a forestAnd I pretend to be perfectly deadThe news spread like a gust of windAnd I see words within a…
With a dance of a snakeOr with a curb of a waveWhen all stars will go for a sleepThe silence only ruleAnd I will be in the mood of a kingWhat’s the fun what’s joke, oh my lovelyWithout any iota of doubtYou will be my queen of the queenIn the darkness of dead midnightWe will…
