Wednesday, 31 March 2010

The Flame - II

It makes me burn;
It makes me melt;
It makes me totally forget my self.
It invades me;
It pervades me;
It incessantly makes me lose my self.

It touches me when I look 'In the mirror'*;
It capsizes me when I behold her smile;
It makes me burn;
It makes me melt;
It makes me totally forget my self.

It shatters my vain resistance;
It takes me to my true residence.
It makes me burn;
It makes me melt;
It makes me totally forget my self.

I submit to its ferocity,
It's just beyond my capacity.
Its presence does not scare me, but
It heavily does scar me.
I only wish I burn forever.
I only wish I melt forever.

*In the mirror - a piece of instrumental music by Yanni.

Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Silent Killer

Speechless when his friends laugh;
Indifferent to their amusement.
Looking as though nothing matters;
Exhibiting a serious attitude,
No expression his face shows
Though his friends roar in laughter.

Knowingly he maintains the temperament.
Interesting it is to look at him.
Laughing their heads off for one full hour
Lie on the floor his friends.
Enjoying all these events, he simply
Recalls the joke he said.

Saturday, 27 March 2010

Love is in the Air

Something was wrong.
I had slept soon,
Wordless and poem-less.
But never loveless.

A quarter hour later,
To the humming of a song
I opened my eyes.
I knew who it was.

It wasn't a mere wave of signals,
It was love that travelled in the air.
The love that accepts everything,
Gives and receives joyfully.

My sleep she disturbed for the third time.
I'm not angry at all.
For, the only mistake she did was
Making me write another poem.

The Flame

My passion fuels the flame in me,
The flame glows brighter now.
Violent winds disturb it, but
The flame only glows brighter.
This flame can never scorch trees.
It is a flame that lights the path.
Holding it I'll walk long.
Holding it makes me strong.
I discovered that she's my perfect 'match',
For, she's the one who lit the flame.

Wednesday, 24 March 2010


So many flowers brimming with nectar,
Sway gently in the December breeze.
Lavenders, dandelions, daffodils,
Tulips, sunflowers and orchids.

So many choices a bee has,
To collect nectar from;
To get intoxicated.

There is festivity in the air
When the bee chooses the best,
Incurring the envy of the rest.

The bud doesn't blossom soon.
It is a long wait.
The bee gets its righteous gift,
When the petals unfurl.

No pain, no strain.
The petals unfurl gracefully.
There is festivity in the air,
When the bee collects nectar.

One fine day,
The flower may wither.
The bee may die. But,
The honey collected,
The union of the flower and the bee
Lives forever.
It is elixir.
It is immortal.

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

The Importance of Sparkle

Dew drops are the stars of dawn.
They Sparkle.

Dew drops are so beautiful,
Only because they Sparkle.

Dew drops make rose petals awesome
With their Sparkle.

The eyes of a baby are lovely,
Because they have Sparkle.

Art embraces beauty,
When there is Sparkle.

The Sparkle of love in the artist's heart.


Desires I've none materialistic.
Dreams I've many highly realistic.
Thousands of creations artistic.
I envisage a life fantastic.

Love does bring people together.
It touches the heart like a soothing feather.
Once it blooms it never does wither.
Like a snake inside you it does slither.

Express it before it decays.
Can't you see that in my case?
I still look for many ways
To express my love till the end of my days.

Sunday, 21 March 2010


A great bicycle I ride,
A bicycle with rear view mirrors.
I have a look at the path trodden upon.
I find it to be smooth.

No bumps. No injuries.
The ride has been smooth,
As the road has been smooth.

That's what I presume.
The road is always smooth.

I behold a sprawling meadow on my right,
A beautifully flowing brook on my left.
My co-riders see a quagmire on one side, and
A dark woods on the other.

Ahead of me are many more beautiful meadows.
My friends see a treacherous landscape.
I continue riding, and
Admiring the beauty around me.
Some people certainly can't see the way I see.

Saturday, 20 March 2010

A Special Rainbow

You won't need an umbrella,
When I drench you in the shower of my love.
Don't you love rain my dear?
It's raining hearts and dreams now.
The sun in my world shines brighter than ever.
Still the shower hasn't ceased.
It will never cease.
Through those glassy beads,
I see a rainbow.
My eyes deceive me.
It's not a rainbow.
It's you.

Thursday, 18 March 2010


The moon was the only mystery
Before I knew her.
She gives the moon a run for its money.
Wow! What an enigma she is!

She is neither a damsel-in-distress,
Nor a devil-in-disguise.
A dame-in-dilemma she is.
Wow! What an enigma she is!

She offered me the greatest happiness
Before subjecting me to the greatest sorrow.
My mystery is my muse. My smile.
Wow! What an enigma she is!

Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Infinity Unlimited

Infinite questions, unanswered.
Infinite words, unspoken.
Infinite dreams, unfulfilled.
Infinite memories, unperturbed.
Infinite stories, untold.
Infinite messages, unexchanged.
Infinite events, unexpected.
Infinity unlimited - my love.

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

Mad Perseverance

Beautiful princess in vermilion shoes,
Seeing her my heart did I lose.
She smiled at me and walked away, but
Forever in my heart she will stay.

Faraway and fast did she walk.
Only in verses do I now talk.
She taught me to love, she enriched my art.
She took with her my little heart.

Stones at me my friends pelt.
'Cause in beautiful dreams do I melt.
I enjoy those moments unworried of my fate,
For I'm only happy, me she doesn't hate.

She has now entered an unknown territory,
Which has a prince and spikes on its periphery.
The walls are thick and really high, but
My heart tells me, "Never-say-die".

Monday, 8 March 2010



What's the reason for her being dear
Despite her making everything clear?
So turbulently do my thoughts sway
Making it hard to move on and move away.

Keats would be happy if I continued to love, but
Gibran would toss me on a burning stove. 
It is love that forms this scene's base.
Yet it acts bizarre in two different ways.

I'm sure my life will never be the same,
Even if I become rich and attain fame.
For somewhere else is my heart
Without which there is no worthwhile art.


With each and every passing moment
On this beautiful yet ugly world
My life has seen many a change
All because of people like you.
Now is the time to express my love and gratitude.

Happy Women's Day!!

Wednesday, 3 March 2010

Poetry and My Life

With increased wisdom my life I resume.
I've learnt to confirm and never to assume.
My mind is right in saying my heart is wrong.
I only feel happy seeing it become strong.

So soft has my little heart been,
Making me fall in love with someone I've never seen.
Was I stupid or foolish in doing so?
I beg to differ, the answer is "no".

The reason for my love for art,
Is that I forget my mind and think with the heart.
Even in sorrow I do see gaiety.
That's what makes poetry my cup of tea.

Tuesday, 2 March 2010

Don't be sorry, my friend


Don't be sorry, my friend.
I'm not broken.
My life will take a bend,
For all my emotions I've spoken.

Nothing was intentional,
It all happened unexpectedly.
I've never been conventional.
That's what affected me greatly.

I've woken up from my slumber, and
Realized it was an awesome dream.
I'll forever remember this,
As just another awesome dream. 

Don't be sorry, my friend.
You never said anything wrong.
You want me to be happy till the end, and
Happy will I be lifelong.

I haven't lost anything,
As far as I can recall. 
But my emotions and ceaseless thinking
Only resulted in increased hair fall.

Monday, 1 March 2010

The Pen Needs Some Rest - II

My pen will not write anymore.
It has lost its soul
That sings happily.
Its emotions will never flow freely.
I seal its cap and
Keep it aside,
Giving it a glance
That speaks a thousand words.

"You recorded my sorrow;
You wrote down my joy.
I wrote beautiful lines about morrow
As an innocent boy.
You've been a trusted friend
Ever since I learnt to write.
I never knew this will be an end.
A bullet should I bite.
Farewell, dear pal.
I'll miss you a lot.
I now suddenly recall
The day you were bought."

I'm sorry .
My pen will really not write anymore.
'Cause there is no ink in it, and
The ink bottle is empty.

PS: I'm tempted to add ':P' at the end of this poem.