Poems Only

When wombs can’t bear the love

And the rose plants empty twigs

Despite the spring and June

When poets are out of words

And the singers just go silent

Despite their dearly tune

When the clouds can’t give no rains

And the earth can’t live of thirst

And the time might stray on a dune

When the feelings die of choking

When the skies go grey with sun

And the wolf is wake of moon

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We who go with heartbeat

Seldom turn and look back

Feel so stuffed at times

As if made of stone

We who love and hate

And believe in feelings

Often cry in darkness

As we dance alone

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Yes, she threw the pebbles

So that she could prove

She was also there

This was just a groove

May be two and half

Or perhaps three

She was old enough

Putting through her plea

You the happy gang

How could you ignore?

She was laughing though;

But she must implore

You could give a smile

Or could say a ‘hi’

She would do the same

And would say good bye

But you were engrossed 

In your happy world

And you noticed not

Yes you never heard

That she called on you

May be 20 time

O you singing girls

Who were lost in rhyme

Oh you gorgeous youth

She was also there

Lovely, as you are

Free as much as air

And to join you beauties

She could find no way

But to throw the pebbles

Or to say ‘hej hej’

Take it as her love

And her praise for you

You will do the same

Someday; it is true

If ever ignored

Or be left alone

You, who are, no kids

You will go for stones

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Oh lovely kid

Who sings and plays

With all the nonsense

Of the life

Spread all around

As if a web

All knit by humans

(Crook fellows)

I so adore thy lively acts

Oh lovely kid

Who sings and plays

Despite that weather

Has been rough

Despite that days

Have been so grey

And nights have been

So cold and dark

But you don’t give

A damn to it

I so adore thy lively acts

You make me laugh

You make me smile

You make me live

Through lonely miles

I so adore thy lively acts

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When night extends her wings

With all the stars and moon

To soothe the aching bodies

To calm the troubled souls

I wake the nights away

And wait for sun to rise

To get my part of life

From countless, youthful rays

I often stand in patio

(In darkness and in light)

With open arms and think

Could I be dark as nights?

And yet can shine like sun

To soothe my love with darkness

To breed the life as days

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Death of the art

Or that of the artist

Is other than bearable

May be not to humans

But to the world;

To the singing birds

To the shining sun

To the rays of moon

To the shores and oceans

To the gloomy evenings

And to brightest mornings

To the broken wings

Of the butterflies

To the vast horizon

And to the blue skies

All of them remorse

(but the heartless beings)

When an artist dies

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