Tuesday, April 28, 2009

My Lost Rose

My lost rose,
In the gardens of love,
I searched her in my dreams,
Her one part was inside me, my heart,
And the other lost, displaced,
From its place,
In the space.

I am a lonely boy,
With a white rose in my hands,
Searching for a pink one,
Roaming from plant to plant,
Flower to flower,
Asking the birds,
The cuckoos don’t answer,
They just sing,
The song of love,
The song of desires.

I am a sad boy,
With no option,
With only one way,
I head towards it,
The path of rosy thorns,
Which protect the rose,
From being touched.

I walk on the thorns, like needles,
They pierce in me, my heart,
The red droplets, pure red,
Very precious, like ruby,
They fall on the white rose,
Which lay in my hands.

The white rose becomes a red one,
The child in me is somewhat happy,
To loose his blood,
To give it to the rose, still not pinkish.

The red turned white rose cries,
For the child,
For child’s love for the pink rose,
The tears dilute the red color,
The red color turns to pink.

The red rose becomes a pink one,
Pink- as desired by me, the child,
Pink- the color of childish love,
Pink- the color of my lost rose.

Thursday, April 9, 2009


Some mist,
With twist;
That morning I remember,
Regular- blinking;
Eyes in November;

The sunny softy ray some yellow,
Touching my eyes frequently and mellow;
Twitter Twitter like soft arrow,
Gaming-couple of lovely sparrow;

They fed,
To beaks open spread;
With water, food n all,
In the nest,
With some zest;
The two baby sparrows-small;

The day came,
When the babies turned lame;
The fan killed both,
Mother sparrow-died,
Father sparrow-died;
Babies cried-with stopped growth;

I climbed the tree,
With some water of sea;
For the baby sparrows,
But- they drank their tear,
The only thing they ate was air;
And they died in their own sorrows;

Days passed,
December surpassed;
January came,
One more year added,
Years on years flooded;
But sparrows never changed their game;

Today also, when there is some mist,
With some twist;
I put off the fan-killing arrow,
I see their relatives-Opening-closing, regular- blinking,
I see their relatives-Hoping-Nearing, fearing-faring;
I see them gaming-couple of lovely sparrow.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Iam Dying.....

Oh! Ye people,
Of the earth;
Listen from steeple,
My crying-is it any worth?

In the corner,
I lie, with scared eyes;
Like a mourner,
Of myself- with no hidden lies;

I run, I slip,
I again rise;
I cry due whip,
Is this-my ego’s size?

I open one eye, I see left,
Followed by the other and then right;
I see myself vanishing, I see the theft,
The inside is black with covering white;

Someone has tied,
Me with emotional rope;
Please stop, please listen-I never lied,
I am dying without any hope;

Oh! Ye people,
Of the earth;
Just peep from steeple,
Inside you- find the dearth;

I am missing,
From you, and yours;
Friends and foes- left just hissing,
Like snake, ready for biting sours;

Some of you just see,
And some just say,
But yours heart is like-wee;
I don’t know where I lay;

The black dots,
Of sin;
Have covered you lots,
And I lie in a transparent bin;

I was, I am, but don’t know,
If I will or not;
In the future of fake glow,
I am dying between past and future’s knot;

Oh! Ye people,
Of the earth;
Get down from steeple,
And come on earth;

Please think,
About me, about my past;
Just see, don’t blink;
About you and yours future’s last;

The generations yet to come,
Yet to smile or cry- it’s your wish;
Shall they read the history of honesty-some,
Or they will say- was truth some stinking fish;

The manipulation of my self into changed version,
The bitter truth of sweet lies;
Like leaving the original, just following the diversion,
Just illuming wideness, but narrow in size;

Oh! Ye people-find me, where Iam lying,
Oh! Ye people-find yourself, where do you lie;
Oh! Ye people-save me, Iam dying,
Oh! Ye people-save yourself, or you will die.