The wind of spring that touching me May have touched you. We are strangers to each our selves But I dream few moments with you. The serenity of this Sunday morn Deepening the solitary of mine As we thrive on our aspirations Living on different sides of the road.
First poem of 2018
Coldness of the night middle Defining the blue silence holds. lluminating yellow of headlights Scaling the road, returning, to abode. I wrap self in scattered street lights To fathom the solitariness of mine-- Amongst all others.
SOMETIMES I feel ASHAME of being a MAN...MARD...PURUSH...
Don't smile looking at me, the weak tired heart says. Don't talk to me while untangling your hair, the lorn soul murmured. Don't walk beside me, the scared another me shouted silently. The longing to talk to her is more than the need-- Of thoughts for a poem, But we talk like pigeons feasting on … Continue reading Talk
The cry of the tom cat fathoming the silence Deepening by the howl of the old poor dog And zip and honk of the irregular night commute. The rain unwelcomed singing the humming Outside closed doors of my southern windows. Nothing will last forever. Even this December rain. Nothing will live forever. The wet fallen … Continue reading December Rain
Am I running a-way or am I running to be a-way. The sky is coming down suffocating me I shall breath like I breathed last breath But, what shall it is be call this bit of time. The glasses of surrounding bursted and splintered Have sliced me now miscalculativly random Blinding me muting me sipping … Continue reading Writing on the Wall