Saturday, January 30, 2010


Memory of a scattered dream, or a sad face
That of a tear of an eye, or a tragic phase

May be of a lost word, or never ending obsession
Or a love of my life, or a regret of my existence

I know not, but something lacks in my resurrection
So I fall deep in the ocean of my non-existence

Is it a light wind or a gale?
Is it charity of feelings or emotions for sale?

Depth of an ocean or height of a sky
A question of who and a query of why

An open aggression, a hidden betrayal
I know not but something causes me to fail

I am lost and so is my verse
I don’t know what I wrote until you point out from the source

It seems I am ire and completely lost
That one thing now I hold, the other moment it is sold

Lost with the sight or with the rhythm of my poem
I understand not the words that I coin.

Is it by chance or an act of my conscience?
So here I stand incomplete & senseless

I am lost and so is my soul.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

The Midnight Lamp

The midnight lamp kept burning silently
its quiet fire narrated some tales

Unattended, were some of them...still
thus ignored went this burning sacrifice to them

The lamp held in it thousands of stories
and it kept talking to only a few

Then came the gush of wind from nowhere
And there it stood all burnt

The midlight lamp was no more
but the brightness was more than it ever bore

Sunday, January 17, 2010

REGRETS and REMORSE...the tale of a regretful soul!!!


...Putting aside all his regrets and remorse,
He stepped in silent pace to the city of peace,
Leaning side by side is his gone-by past,
Filled with tears is his heart.

Uncommon thoughts remind him of thee,
Some silent steps; also brought by the scene, windy!

Lying close in his arms when her eyes shone,
arms that no more hold him as mine,
is now the regret he will always own.

Lets throw away the memories in the stream;
are the words he speaks to his soul.
'These are the words you always speak',
bursts out his lonely soul.

Getting ashamed of his own cowardice,
He hides his face in a dark disguise.

Life didn't turn out, the way he expected,
Everything he did, he regretted,
Be it to him or to anyone subjected.

He had a dream,
But what did he do to get it?



Still..He must go on as he should,
The sun rose and there he stood,
Might I find peace somewhere close,
Lets ignore this present remorse.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

THE BEAUTY AND THE BEE

Beauty, was as if caged in it,
its grace and fragrance like the towered
pride of the garden.
Sick Rose,
Fell in love with the bee!
How cruel can love be lets see.

The beauty awaited long for its return,
the bee, being late as too much absorbed in its fun.

Whole night the bee would wait in the hope,
just for an instant the bee would appear to go.

That moment of oneness was enough,
as the beauty lived only for that alone.

Then one day when Eros was being kind,
the bee realized how unkind it had been;
too lost in the fake world of others,
lost completely in the charming world of hemlock drinkers...
What it had done!

Ah! The beauty that waited long for its return,
no more waited now,
not because the beauty changed its love,
but the nature had been unkind again all and above.

And this time the beauty was dead,
The bee was late and the beauty was dead.

Contributors

My photo
Everyone needs a place in their life where they can go to escape the demands of family and work, enjoy some adult time and be free from the daily grind. Psychologists call it ‘the third space’ because most people spend the majority of their lives in two places – home and work. A third space provides a haven from these places of responsibility, where we can chill out and indulge our leisure interests. For me, my third space is my blog. It is without doubt the most important part of my world.

Somewhere faraway; As I sit to feel the silence, My thoughts are carried away by THE WHISPERS OF MY HEART!!

Saturday, January 30, 2010


Memory of a scattered dream, or a sad face
That of a tear of an eye, or a tragic phase

May be of a lost word, or never ending obsession
Or a love of my life, or a regret of my existence

I know not, but something lacks in my resurrection
So I fall deep in the ocean of my non-existence

Is it a light wind or a gale?
Is it charity of feelings or emotions for sale?

Depth of an ocean or height of a sky
A question of who and a query of why

An open aggression, a hidden betrayal
I know not but something causes me to fail

I am lost and so is my verse
I don’t know what I wrote until you point out from the source

It seems I am ire and completely lost
That one thing now I hold, the other moment it is sold

Lost with the sight or with the rhythm of my poem
I understand not the words that I coin.

Is it by chance or an act of my conscience?
So here I stand incomplete & senseless

I am lost and so is my soul.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

The Midnight Lamp

The midnight lamp kept burning silently
its quiet fire narrated some tales

Unattended, were some of them...still
thus ignored went this burning sacrifice to them

The lamp held in it thousands of stories
and it kept talking to only a few

Then came the gush of wind from nowhere
And there it stood all burnt

The midlight lamp was no more
but the brightness was more than it ever bore

Sunday, January 17, 2010

REGRETS and REMORSE...the tale of a regretful soul!!!


...Putting aside all his regrets and remorse,
He stepped in silent pace to the city of peace,
Leaning side by side is his gone-by past,
Filled with tears is his heart.

Uncommon thoughts remind him of thee,
Some silent steps; also brought by the scene, windy!

Lying close in his arms when her eyes shone,
arms that no more hold him as mine,
is now the regret he will always own.

Lets throw away the memories in the stream;
are the words he speaks to his soul.
'These are the words you always speak',
bursts out his lonely soul.

Getting ashamed of his own cowardice,
He hides his face in a dark disguise.

Life didn't turn out, the way he expected,
Everything he did, he regretted,
Be it to him or to anyone subjected.

He had a dream,
But what did he do to get it?



Still..He must go on as he should,
The sun rose and there he stood,
Might I find peace somewhere close,
Lets ignore this present remorse.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

THE BEAUTY AND THE BEE

Beauty, was as if caged in it,
its grace and fragrance like the towered
pride of the garden.
Sick Rose,
Fell in love with the bee!
How cruel can love be lets see.

The beauty awaited long for its return,
the bee, being late as too much absorbed in its fun.

Whole night the bee would wait in the hope,
just for an instant the bee would appear to go.

That moment of oneness was enough,
as the beauty lived only for that alone.

Then one day when Eros was being kind,
the bee realized how unkind it had been;
too lost in the fake world of others,
lost completely in the charming world of hemlock drinkers...
What it had done!

Ah! The beauty that waited long for its return,
no more waited now,
not because the beauty changed its love,
but the nature had been unkind again all and above.

And this time the beauty was dead,
The bee was late and the beauty was dead.

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