Glance

The cheeks of the 

Skies, been intoxicated 

By the Damsels of 

Rhymes.

The gushing winds 

Have been tamed by 

The Daisies of

Scented chimes. 

The moon was too

Mellow and the

Jasmines have

Tamed him tonight.

Lavenders have

Replaced the stars,

Roses been luminiscent

For quite some time.

Bless us with your

Elegance dear love.

The laurels are 

Forever waiting..

For the lullabies

Of your glance.

Dead Poet

Dear poet. I read your obituary in the newspaper. Didn't know how to interpret it. 

Are you really gone or is it one of the instances that you just can't write? 

Are you choking on your words or you have done away with yourself from over a fan? 

I hope it is just a series of miscarriages in your head. I would like to believe that you are in your cave, taking time to come up with something new as you always do. 

I didn't know how to comprehend the headline, "Death of a poet". As it seemed like a beautiful metaphor you would use.

Hope everything is fine. And you're working on your next piece.

Tainting Apathy

The papers want

To be tainted.

They pray for 

Redemption from

The blinding of

The blank.

The pen is a 

Messenger of 

The god.

Rescuing the 

Damned.

Poetry is a 

Warrior knight. 

Cosmic Job

There's a strange 

Feeling that's 

Simmering on the

Tips of my fingers.

An unusual quiver

Passing beneath

My feet. 

I feel a layer of skin

Upon me and 

Someone is trying to

Break it free.

Looks like something

Is in wake. 

My pen wants me

To go on a ride.

A piece of paper

Must be praying

For its redemption

From the blank.

Cosmic forces may

Have chosen me

For the job..

To balance the

Equilibrium..

Let me write a

Line. 

Shower Some Starlight

Shores of the sea

Are cleansed by

The touch of your

Feet.

Winds seek 

Redemption

At the behest of

Your cheeks.

The moon 

Has been jealous,

For over an 

Epoch.

The sun has been

Chasing the dark

To give meaning 

To his fondness. 

Feed this celestial 

Vacuum.

Universe has been 

Lonely all along.

I've wished for a

A glance of you a

Million times..

Pass me through 

One of your 

Thoughts and shower 

Some starlight. 

Aid of Divine

Her face is

Moonlight.

Her heart,

The blue sky.

Eyes are wild,

Tone is mild.

Her blush is

A killer when 

She becomes

A child. 

..

As sweet as

A butterfly.

As brave as

The late night.

Down the

Alleys of my

Confused mind

She seems to be

The Answer...

To all my

If and Whys.

..

She's such

A joy.

A touch of

Desire.

A miracle,

I'm not gonna

Lie.

A reason for

My loneliness'

Demise.

An inspiration,

Who makes me 

Fly.

..

Beyond the 

Mortals,

Close to Gods.

She's a fantasy

Divised by 

The aid of divine.

..

Hello

These bruises 

And scars.

Half-cut smiles, 

And broken stars.

Little insides that 

Die daily to 

Humiliation and

Self-sabotage.

The taints we 

Nourish to grow

Colors..

A slang from you,

An Arrow from

Another.

Our palette,

Full of blame 

Is pretty much 

Borrowed.

We're poets sire,

We paint in words,

Take on nerves and

Live in shadows.

You may not 

Recognize us.

We don't reside in

Hearts that are hollow.

Come and see us,

If you've time.

We're just a 

Thought away.

If you peep in 

Your head, 

In search of aesthetics 

In the dust 

Of your mind..

Hello..!

Redemption

Between your ears

There is a prison.

Down your throat

There's a whistle.

Clenching your chest

A pump dictates

Terms of your life.

The thing between

Your thighs cries

Purpose of your life.

While two beans around

Same region has

Mocked it all the while.

The words that 

Quiver in your hand

Are in search of a

Place to safely land.

And how nice it is

If your redemption

Comes via the verses

You write.

Story Barter

Each time sea-waves

Break on the beach.

A story is left to be

Forgotten.

Well stirred.

Well thought and

A well crafted story

Is left in the sand

To be gone.

I dipped my feet

To forget my own.

Ended up writing

Another instead.

A story absorbed

To abandon another.

Against the one I wrote

To let another float.

The one that came 

Out as ink is fine. 

Mine must be a

Giant-sad-wave by now.  

Got a Quill instead

I'm no bird that

Can soar high,

With flap of

Wings.

I'm no animal

To survive the

Wild and breath

Free.

I'm no mantis 

To disguise my

Prayer and

Find my game.

And I'm no microbe

To to grow my

Appendage at

Will.

I'm just a human 

With aspirations.

Myriad dreams 

To fullfill.

They said, I can't fly. 

To prove them wrong,

Stretched my hands.

A wish for wings

To go wrong..

God offered me a

Quill instead of

A fancy frill.

Freedom Paradox

Can there be 

Freedom without

Walls?

A sight without

Shade of the

Dark?

Life without

Fear of death?

Or a desire 

Devoid of 

Incessant threat?

Isn't poetry a

Bondage of

Words.

Music confined

In pauses of

Sound?

A white page

Is of million

Possibilities.

Plain paint,

Of myriad

Analogies.

Standing still,

How withheld

Is a tree?

Cut-lose kite can

Ever be free?

Liquor isn't the

Only tool,

Eyes are 

Intoxicating too.

Birds can be 

Lonely.

Prisons too 

Can be

Someone's envy.

Muggle

I sleep in a 

Prison.

Wake up

In a bubble.

Eat for

Breakfast,

My day-to-day

Struggle.

All my plans,

Hanged to the wall.

Unfulfilled,

They wriggle.

I don't have

A wand, to be

Done away with

My troubles.

Magic is a 

Luxury sold to us 

For us to watch

And giggle.

Hey there, 

Wizard, under the 

Sheets,

On the streets-

I'm just a Muggle. 

I was born when

I was born when..

Sun was gone by.

Moon was bit shy.

Only stars were

Around to twinkle,

Before it got 

Cloudy and

Rained all night.

..

I was born when..

With a pinch of 

Yellow and 

Shade of green.

The spring was 

Bidding goodbye..

And from around

The corner,

Summer was 

A proper Hi.

..

I was born when..

Metaphors were

Cast in volcanoes.

Swords were 

Given to men to

Think aloud and

Pen-down verses.

A revolution brew

In great minds.

A spirit of enquiry

Deep down.

..

I was born when..

Even gods 

Would cry. 

Mothers would

Laugh and sigh.

Girls still,

Stole hearts. 

Kids ran around

Fine and wild.

Love grew in

Our backyards

And traveled 

Countrywide. 

..

I was born when..

Humanity hadn't

Lost its way.

Dogs had an

Equal say.

For the good

Deeds no-one

Took credit and

Heaven did go

By merit.

..

Poem is a Flight

Mind took me

Places.

Hovered on

Dreamy lands..

Thoughts took

A shape.

A Blue Bird

Was born.

It grew wings.

Was meant to

Fly high..

...

But my throat

Is a graveyard

Where words

Often die.

A standstill.

Fluttered wings.

Poked my mind.

And hit

Some walls.

A frustration

Set in. 

Each day an

Attempt was made.

But how do

You make..

A Dumb person

Talk?

A pen

With a paper

Was such a 

Plan!

And at the 

Behest of 

Ink trails,

Emancipation came.

Thoughts flew

Off my brains.

Peace is just

Another bird.

Poem is a flight.

Shadows

I feel exposed

In the light.

Threatened by

The dark.

So I lurk in

The shade,

Cast by the

Moonlight. 

Hopelessness

I'm blinded

By the light,

That's no boon. 

And 

The darkness

I was seeking,

Has been 

Plundered

By the moon.

Lonely Moon

The Moon is 

Lonely too.

He confessed,

The other night.

Earth has 

Engaged the sun.

The stars are 

Far away and-

The girls who

Fantasized him 

Are taken away

By the boys. 

Awe

I was so hooked to

The mundane,

The mediocre and

The obvious. That..

Anything just above 

Ordinary would have

Held me in surprise.

And you were a 

Rain laden cloud

Around my dry land.

An yearning had to 

Come up. Poetry

Had to take birth.

And it did. 

It Shouldn't

Today the sun has

Come up in the west.

Someone has 

Intoxicated the air 

And the peeps are

High on weed and

On top of the world.

Here, 

I roll on my couch,

Complaining about

The heat, choking

On mediocre poetry and 

Hating myself more.

Tomorrow all the same,

He'll set in the west.

Peeps dry and dumb

And world yellow again.

Same couch,

Same poems and with 

Same kind of hate,

I conduct myself here.

The peeps, the world 

Mean nothing to me.

In fact. It shouldn't.

She, Me and My Will

Sometimes, I'm 

As light as a feather 

And all I wish is, 

The wind from east 

To just blow me away.

Also, there are 

Other times-

Days too long

To pass by.

The moon too lazy 

To come up. 

And I'm all assed up

Like a big rock.

Just to put myself

To test, against-

The mighty forces. 

Then there's she,

To keep my feathery

Heart grounded.

And the resolute 

Mind afloat.