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Collection of Poems 2

Mum: My Lovely Woman


Running after the twelvemonth

I am still searching for the distinct light,

Counting the stars that never end-

And never forget to bind me tight.

Hours of mindless gazing:

Far, far away from your warm embrace

Longing after the shower of love.

I sit alone every evening

Boring over those black and whites,

Sapless and cold in their own essence-

They never make me feel at home.

I stare at the unfriended window,

Desperation blooming in my dark soul,

Lament, never leaves my throat

Cackling laughter makes me bold.

I count my breath and noisy heart,

At night they recount their eroding past

Until exhaustion sweeps me away,

To put me on your little breast

And Melancholy goes away.

the nameless' tale

When the sun rises

And the chimney comes alive;

A grave woman walks along with the first light

Making her home, pruning the rest

Her house never feels any regret.

Yet she hurries to lock the door:

What if the sun leaves her sight?

There is no vanity echoing with her steps

Still her nimble feet cannot comply

With her thirst for life.

Hands are busy choosing pretty flowers-

When birds fly and sing to the dawn,

Mumbling and babbling what no one hears

But the cool breeze catches her tone.

Some bad, some rotten and some dying inside

She picks them all from the blooming yards

Nature and neighbours don't stop her.

Greying locks tousled and turned

In a fit of her sleepless nights

Her greenish pillow has been punched,

Been cried upon and soaked them all-

In search of her real name.

Towards the Path of Shame

He loiters around on his broken limbs,

Keeping the feline balance and the eagle gaze-

He searches around like a hungry vulture,

Waiting for any available lump of flesh.

They say that he is a ruthless killer,

Slaughtered his own wife and murdered old parents,

For gold, for revenge or for a cannibalistic lust

No one knows yet.

But all those years behind the bars

Couldn't tame this inhuman beast,

He is often seen stalking the wind-

With crimson eyes and foul teeth,

He smokes out the souls of many youths,

His own was grinded and wasted away,

For they say he never had one-

Or any hope to live for,

No family of his own

A childless man among many bastards;

In shame mother earth weeps alone.

random SUMMER diary


The sound of summer I thought was harsh

Like the push and pull of heavy vehicles;

Like the roads and flats of a mad city;

Like the clock that rang and broke into-

Where my heart sleeps with my mind-

Happy and careless like two fallen leaves

The noise of summer felt rough every year.

I laughed and cried at the crow's pleasure,

It swore everyday to disturb me

Like the summer so hot that roasted my feet,

But I ran and ran along the scorching street

My body felt small but I was free

Until father found me.

My summer was sweet and very juicy,

Nothing overwhelms the joys of mangoes

Yellow, red, green and slightly pink

Were held like little suns sent from the sky.

I wished to swallow them whole

Like the great little Hanuman

Who flew across the sky,

Fearless and reckless and very swift

I still dream to conquer the sun

So I can find the summer within me.