The Mirror Mirrors

The mirror mirrors every suave aspect of her,

Highlighting nothing but the shortening for breath,

there is a song for the bowmen who flaunt more of marksmanship,

till a flower is trudged underneath a skeleton of weight,

I know the ghosts exist only in nightmare but then love is hardly

anything else.

Odd bell

He arose and waited for a breath of Entertainer who rocks,

The Wild and not so wild people sitting around the bar,

hardly he bent about the mirror where he saw a sign of strangulation,

a mark on the mirror as elaborating the hangman who lurch behind shadows,

and slit the throat of mad men who haven’t found meaning in the money,

honey money as he would call the joke a blatant soul searching,

The madmen laughing crazily in the mirror as he saw hallucinating,

purple coloured little angel winding up way with the porn in the making,

a crude laughter laughing the coarse Gods who witnessed the Queen of France,

talking to literati about the social assistance for the poor and the needy.

The Odd Bell- An introduction

That hung like a whimsical bead the beat of dumb roulette,
And he picked the hour so great and restful in summer heat,
The pain of centuries ceasing for the God like appearance,
of man and sheep,There begins the tale on round the clock,
in the tower with its rhythm and beat striking the five after noon,
He sits vainly in the bar underneath a cavern of hope where lovers meet,
He waiting till the end of lonely hour when he proposes to see a maid,
worthy of luck and charm for the talents unknown to any man,
A luckless lass walking under the blue light and seeing the hope,
of a yardstick if it is kept the dalliance of pitiless soul,
He wanted a lady for his film, in the evening shadow to appear,
as by chance in the limelight where he sat with a drink in his hand,
and a carefree nature that would bestow on this world a stage,
where he would growl to see the lively performance of Cynthia,
and she did appear walking into the bar for passions soaring high,
she hardly kept a distance in the ambience of restaurant and said,
to the bartender a beer of Heineken if it could be measured to mean,
there is love called divine which surely rings the tune for mine love,
and He arose up to meet the twain have met in the skyless sea. The odd bell rang.

My Darling

I call your name by the fire as a witness to purity,
of fire delving in love and statue of personality,
I argue about with the words bent upon the edge of the world,
and you fall into chasm of darkness taking for light,
you could see twinkles of light and personae melding,
while I grope for you, wanting in taste and colour,
dance of the wind to enamour all the true love you fling,
I am dying a slow battle amid the laughter of intoxication,
I am wrapped up on to the Godless summer in the mountains,
and you take to climbing up the hills around us,
there is a deep crevice that gapes at Godless summer,
where by the Almighty rustles into your slender beauty,
I partake with the soul to bring you the fall littered flowers,
that could hear your voice throbbing upon the endless hole of heart,
I must resign from what I have taken to the liking meant for prayer,
you are my ghost and I cannot read your letter in invisible hand,
that has clawed the pen with a force of feather and you dying,
impromptu under the fancy wings of God and I must continue,
the breadth of death as having occurred somehow like snowfall.

What he said?

I had a vision in sleep,
whereby the socialist dreamt about sea,
and the after effects of chosen love out on board,
for all to see,
He fled the island and gone without a hope,
to measure the life of others and find his case,
to be so and lonely in the end for us, My son and I,
to leave but there was a mention of a woman,
whom I failed to credit while the piece written by her,
and fed to my food for thought as I ruminate,
the love For Galaxy millions of stars and to find she,
Her presence was of a smitten prime minister who,
locked the horns with all the president’s men,
and came out fallen for God and cheap,
This was the final warning for all the nation,
and to cure of its weed,
Silently he would begin to speak,
he said “God preserve the kingdom of Greece”

What the hill?

What the hill you said?
Where dreams floated on ice like in dawn,
There had been the biggest milkman,
who in voice was deep and guttural,
In hat of twopence said a golden alms,
Then begged and begged till rain lashed,
the ground with a milk awashed,the milkman,
on towery rays fed what was the juggernaut,and end,
No more comfort could I seek whither the piano,
on the lost sea, the caprice of pirates ran,
like hen of golden claw and the maiden wept,
I am awaiting nothing but a love atlast,
my baby would be the drunken duck,
who having all the men upfront, now proclaimed as dead,
there were the lively songs I foretell,
all of you and me gone abduct,
till the leaves would fall and the King decree,
of the land and seven seas,
there is a farrow and God,
lets throw away the grains of salt,
and away I fled gone and hidden in the maze like bed,
What the hill where you dance?
Come here again win and wait,
I am the sudden end and half opened fate.

A Pharaoh

Basking in Good Old day, I thought over the moon,

all the goodness is a thrift thing saved many ages over,

It’s my age when I cross the river to see you, it might not be haste,

There lurks the widow’s pride in summoning love letters when at home,

I see not blindness that I have eyed over for God’s sake,

I am based in thicket soil let not be spoiled by intake of love,

I am a dying soul who withers its feathers in Godly sense,

I make multiplications of millions of stars only to be turned stale,

The universe and its rhythm finds in ageless saint who spoke about lovers,

lest they gone late.