Bird, you know not a word,
Yet you sing a song that I can not!
A song composed of consistent tweets,
Yet they find it so sweet!
No vowels you care to sustain,
And consonants missing too!
Lacking both rhythm and rhyme,
Yet how sweet your call Cuckoo!

I know not what to call it

The mornings have lost its touch,
And I dream of daisies no more.
The nights do not amount to much,
But a daily dose of darkness with snores.

A body set free in the empty space,
Rolling away in the curves of time.
Chasing light but losing the race,
Yet reaching the place destined.

A mind full of horrid dreams,
With a subtle hue of death in the eye for miles.
Which sees you if it wants to scream,
But comes up only with a smile.

How I wish discover your face,
With a newborn's full of wonder gaze.
Your hair that flow with a river's grace,
And float in the wind in a motion of blaze.

But I have got a mountain to climb,
A sea to swim and sky to cross,
For reasons I have yet to find.
In forests tall I grow but like a clump of moss.

I Killed A Dream

Part I

Before it blends into my world
And wrap its roots around my heart.
Before it rebels and becomes bold
I must tear it, rip it apart.

Hang it, choke it, drown it or bury deep
Before it walks out of my sleep.
And hunt me with a promised land
Where I could never be.

So hide the sun and dry to pond,
This flower shall not bloom!
And I must kill this dream before
It brings me to my doom!

Part II

Hurriedly I closed the doors before the winds of summer came,
Drew the curtains on my heart on such a lovely day.
Robbed my head off the sentiments till only remained the shame.
When the crust was soft and tender I stabbed- smiling as I slay!
Woeful weeping and at last a wail as I gently killed a dream.

Damned if this empty field of my life where this seed I ever sow.
I have spilled the plague and spoiled the soil and down the turmoil rains.
On this barren land of mine weed of rhymes now grow.
Leaving my heart to starve and beg I smile and set aflame the grains!
Woeful weeping and at last a wail as I gently killed a …

Sailor and the Sea

Eight feet long and three feet wide,
With two broken oars waiting for the tide.
Breaks the dawn and I row on-
Be silent but you can not hide!

Your little waves that touch the sky,
Can barely rock this boat of mine.
Currents, you have some and I have rum-
Today either you dry or I die!

Stir some storm and let the water pour,
To drown me if, you will need it more.
Spark some light with all your might-
While puffing on my pipe perhaps a nap I will score!

Oh dear sea, my love, my absolute delight,
With whom have you picked a fight?
The deepest of your darkest depths-
I have seen so clear though beyond my sight!

You stand against the broken hearted,
A sailor who has lost all that he started.
Take me away from the land if you can-
From which we shall never be parted!

Simple Days

Where the wind is soft and tender,
Where the lake is calm and clear.
And every bird takes part in a choir
Singing songs for you and me!

Where the trees do grow tall,
And dance in the wind but never fall.
The sound of ruffling leaves is a call
A call for you and me!

There's a waterfall to wash our heads,
Cleanse ourselves from all the dreads.
And the grass weaves a cozy bed
To lay down for you and me!

When the sun will be halfway behind the hills,
Setting the sky ablaze and blows the cold chills.
I will hold you tight and close then kiss
And a kiss form you to me!

Tell me, dear, will you come yonder,
To spend some life, then a little ponder.
And a word or two with a cup of tea-
Walk hand in hand, you and me!

Outside the closed eyes

Standing upon the gates of heaven,
I look back into time.
Everything I came here to find,
Is everything I left behind.
How easy it is to fool your mind,
Into believing there's sin and crime.
How easy to make you see the light,
At the same time making you blind.
The truth is but the night is dark,
Light is a myth, there is not a spark.
Eyes open and mind asleep,
Controlling you like a herd of sheep.
How easy for us to kill and bury the scream,
To keep you in a bubble of dream.
Where all the things you see, you feel,
Or touch or hear or say is like a movie reel.
Spinning till you are out of breath,
You pop the bubble and rains the wrath.
How easy is this simulation of life,
Educate, work, love, be husband and wife.
Stay happy, stay asleep till the dream ends,
Wake up when it's too late and there the death stands.

The Busy Orchard

In a far land where thoughts are woven with clouds in the sky. Where the nature of minds grew like a paradise. It wasn't the beauty made when some magic hand was laid. It was an orchard knitted out of countless failures and tries.
Ponds and lakes by rains were made. And shaggy trees stood in the soothing soil. And when the night falls and the twilight fades. Along with stars, the moths lit up their tails.
The bees and bugs and butterflies. The frogs and fishes and quacking ducks. The cotton clouds hide the birds that fly. And the wind ruffled the grass, there, the music lies.
Amongst this cherished land of life. The little Wasp wanders lost out of time. Down and up and right and left. He wonders- what can be the purpose of mine?
The whole orchard all too busy to see. What the little Wasp all day has to feel. All the things this beauty can turn from sadness to glee. But the black Wasp as he was, blue he always is.