To past

Take me time, faster than light,
To the past- so lovely, so bright.

What else can I call truly mine
Than the beautiful childhood dream?
Than the daily, daily whines?

The shivers in the chilly moon,
The warm and sweet food of noon,

Shrills and cries nigh long all days
And skirmishes that stay with us
Yet never, never we part our ways.

Innocent petulance then blush on cheeks
That can wither any ire in ticks

Tons and tons of kisses and love
Falling with a blink and only a smile

Take me fast, just in a night,
To the past- faster than light.

Insanity

Vandalizing my lone moments,
Pestering my loner dreams
And deriding my effusive concernment,
What far shall it help you achieve?

My heart beyond a suture,
Mind poise,
And eyes seared by sluicing tears,
No mayhem more shall your word cause.

I am marked now by a perverse insanity.
From benevolent being to a con-flagrant frantic,
Spirits seemingly convulsive,
I have apprehensions I be trampled
And crumbled by time's magnificence.

I beg not for a moment of care, nor of love.
But that kindness I deserve;
As shall any being from any elser one.

One lone instant of yours together with mine
Can heal the ecstasy I walk through.
And one more of it can benumb my each rue.

Endless Worlds.

There are endless worlds by the side of which we live.

Yet we limit our selves to the confines of the four walls.

There are many miracles around that we gape at.

But we forget that the biggest miracle is that of us, that of our existence.

We are close to luxuriant nature endowed with prolific wealth.

Yet we look for the riches which shall perish with us.

Each moment, endless love bathes us towards which we are blinded.

It can only be visible if we can see beyond our eyes.

It can only be felt if our hearts are open to the form of love that binds us all.

Paint thee, O time !

Paint O my world.
Me thinks it never returns.
Paint the past. Paint the rushing present.
Paint all that holds them.
And all that's held in them
That I and you, my world,
Care and love each being around.
Paint it all. And quench the time
Let it never return.
But let it be sealed. Forever.

Literary Doodles

Sometimes our minds tend to wander around all the worlds. Diverse images flow in mind and before eyes and we tend to forget everything except that feeling that we are in a different place altogether. It happens only for a few moments sometimes and may persist for longer in others. And now the literary doodles- they try to capture these moments in words that flow during such muses. They are made without any further changes the diction or structure of the sentences. They may not have much of literary significance. And they may have lots of abstractions thrown in between. Yet they more serve as nets for emotional details. And just as our pen wanders while our mind makes doodles out of nothing, so are these verses. Hence they are literary doodles. Less of a poem and more of beautiful, momentary feelings.

To Poetry

I had never felt what I feel the moment
I never dreamt that I shall ever speak
The not yet completely formed feelings
The thoughts that have always hidden selves
And the expressions that never took light
Into the doomed reality that I perceived
Was far from being comprehensible
My world, to call it my very own
And to myself- to which they fettered
And their lonesome existence in that domain
Has caused them to fling like fire
Un-relented like a whirlwind sucking life
They are a force rather than a flaccid emotion
Living rather than an abstraction
The expanse of my conception
Has now only been bound by infinity
The living fears have been euthanized
And the voice that was never heard
Is to become the voice of the world
Of truth, of reality and of hope
I owe to this liberation, my being
And to the power of word, my soul. To say,
That which comes as it comes is life
And that which comes with pain, with joy- is poetry.