When those flowers and leaves
Withered from its branch
I know how the trunk felt

For so long under the Sun
Standing naked
Carrying the shame of someone else

Of love and lust they
Once had with tempting fragrance

When the bees were flirting
I know how the rose turned Red with shy.

Now every day in and day out
I couldn’t stand the sight
Of the remaining becoming graveyard.

It is the ‘deep root’ed
Think called Love
Wandering in its dream
Imagining life of its own
Believing things are in respective place.

Making someone’s shame on other
Beautiful from its unseen world
When perspective changes
From its roots to trunk to branches
To leaves to flower


For You

When the sun was on its way home,
I was crowded with your thoughts.
I colored its extended arms
Starting with Green to Red to Blue
To Pink.

Finding it wasn’t enough I continued
With Yellow and Purple of different shades.
And I tried to mix it then and their.
But couldn’t find the right stare.

Instead- the thought turned pale and lamented.
Gosh! I was trying to color the dark.
Though I had a sense of colors
Things failed.

The colors I reached wrote its own story
of pain, and joy through my hands.
When People, birds, dogs, cats,
Friends, fellow poets and the whole world slept.

Oh! I can see the rising Sun
With a wake up call for the day.
And I Hope it shows the art of darkness.
The paint I painted with pain.


Nothing was nice
It was nice to be nothing
The formless earth
Covered with darkness and void

Smelling shit
Sometime Stepping on it
Even crawling in it
It was nothing since
We know nothing or see

Nothing was nice
The colorless flowers
Spreading different odor
For one of the five

Senses among which
Stood corruptive the eye
The evolution was progressive
And nothing was nice

We fall and rise
When there was a hurdle
We bleed and stink
Feeding insects on our body

We eat and get eaten
Within the natures life cycle
Not worrying about the loss
Or pain when nothing was nice.

Our nakedness
We were unaware of
But the sense of touch
Made us aware of it
Knowing where is what

The opposite taught
An accidental touch of
The treasured pleasure in us
Spending it together and alone

We made sounds
Which is unique but still
Undistinguished from the wilderness
With which we communicate

Nothing was nice
But the curiosity drove
Those sound building it into
Words, sentences, paragraphs and so on
Thoughts came along with the evolution

He created us differently
Keeping equality at its stake
For all livings, we survived
Fitting our organized thoughts.


I was waiting
Before and After
the moon
falls and raises

A moment
for which I long
through out my life

My clock
gets tired of spinning
its seconds, minutes, and hours
I feel that I’m dead

And when I sip
the vapor
of the milk
my thoughts reversed.
Oh! I’m still alive.

Waiting of course
is so very
But it will change
when expectation fails

I lived long
I even forgot
that I’m alive
“faculty of wonder”

About death
I have no clue
the curiosity crawls
with life to live the dead

Death tortured
by letting me live
while life tortured
by letting me die

I’m waiting
to find who is pleasant
Death? or Life?


It is
“yes” for NO and
“No” for YES

It means
“I’m sorry”- and
“Fuck you all”

It conveys
things of two
Acceptance and

For people in love
it is everything.
It is nothing
For those who are not.

It irritates
misdirect but
To some exceptional freaks
It brings peace.

when the silence speak
It means not what you meant


Blind child
Floats so mild

bow and arrow
Are so wild
So cruel
To stitch
Two strange hearts
to get familiar

Blind he
Not me
So I can ‘see’ that
I’m not her perfect match

Now don’t give a damn
To defend yourself


Oh.. Mighty Death
I heard
People saying it is luxury to face
The natural death
But they see you not
In the natures bed

Those same voices
curses you of taking life
But they see not your mercy
With which you showed them light

They fear you
Deny you the holy rights
Getting so very tempted
Of the fruit so bright

I know, how kind you are
And let the others too know
Do come and embrace me
Since there are chances
That I may too get tempted