The Misgiving

I learnt there was an uproar when you married,

the cataclysmic activity shield the fate and carry,

love on it shoulders forever, never for once deny,

the separation that is there when you are away,

rapid when beset with doubts and under infamy’s sway,

the burden upon heart lease the suffering for every hour,

and the ever burden of life disturb the heart feeling,

shy and forgetfulness is deemed easy, as I find the misgiving,

a last thought and put behind the array of solemn pride,

and to walk in the wind as a part of human kind.


An epic love

Before winter could pass on warmth

the spring had bedecked my door

there in it were thousand snares in it

rather than the leaves of grass

I waited with a patient brim hat

toppling it sideways to know the gap

between the world and its alien races

who fight the terrorists who are fat

The tunes forming for love all the

castles in the air and loose hope

I am still a loose on honey and call

the sweet a queen with the head

and before they begin to walk

I must have left the snare of spring

causing Love’s dose an epic love.

No more Love

There is a suffocating voice,

living a dream of the front runners,

want to pick and establish ideas in the world,

Then falls back on its feet at the end,

There is a slow engrossing love,

that the voice charms with her spell,

Then the lovers bless there is no pain in the head,

Just a violent falling of the trees where people tread,

It’s an insignia for God caring souls,

who ask for more and more love,

There is a confusion and Love unsaid.

The scam Artist

Here is the paradise living among the parasite,

the blood drawn from the veins is let go,

for a life on the shelf with empty newspapers,

and their tidings which consult the journalist,

as blood drawn from the citizens while netizens,

decided what’s in a hurry for charms,

There was once love sucked by breathing the,

lover sharing all that was in the life of a periodical,

dead bent upon setting the score with the artist,

who in a haste drew the copy of sports captain,

as lame, who wouldn’t come at all for the journey,

of a reporter.

For Ezra

The view from top is pleasing,

many scented woods demeaning,

the wood is harbinger of luck,

however the world is meeting,

I have dead fish to fly if the oceans,

meet the sky in freezing,

there reached a mile upon many miles,

and never haste to ceasing.

The summary for the yogi

the summer would end with a bust then cooking by the demons

of the primary life would end and angels might slaughter

what is the moon paradise?  with bluish perfumed message

comes to me of  a negligent yogi who wants to surrender his self

to the God of no-being cluttering the mind with sheep like fellowship

and the God is neither unity nor separation

but a state of naked love atr the helm of turkish delight

steering the boat into infinitude and surrendering to the Queen

having those at her mercy whom love never pleases.

Ans the yogi having surrendered to the will of beauty

takes a last laugh and yells for a mercy


The permanent seat is in the kitchen,

You ,half empty your head and upon half empty stomach,

I charge with a careless whisperer,

I let awake my baby who is dearly want a clap,

There is the shadow locked in the cupboard,

I have got patience to stay the night in,

I must give you a helping hand and din,

I am a soul traveller mending the tongue,

about women, about all naked of them,

I am waking your dream as you listen often,

I am with a quirky head putting my eggs in the basket,

and we meet on sullen day of December,

Who was winning? The devil in the head,

Then I recall the famed song and the ReUNION