Tuesday, September 18, 2012


Gout torment  the geriatric
leaning on his walking stick
strained by a tottering pace
his back bent with years spent
the grey locks has its tales to tell
and the wrinkles on the brow
his shadow is a mere specter
of the frail frame he wears
bereft with the failing senses
he dodders on in senility
reminiscent of his salad days
beckoning from the yesteryear
He treads on his final leg
down the life’s last lane

Monday, September 17, 2012

cold hands

never to fall apart
for aeons to hold your hands
and  now your hands are cold

Saturday, September 15, 2012


We are 
hard at work
for ever and evermore
The hands of time never stop
The wheels of life must run
on and on
at all times
in perpetuity
from dawn to dusk
from cradle to grave
pursuing verities
of sweet nothings
A paradox
of life wedged
in the coils of realities
We scurry on
till we exist no more

Monday, September 3, 2012

Poetic parturition

In the familiar urges of the mind
the musings of my heart tweaks
from the slumberous thoughts
that often evade the pensive vent
shapes the melody of the words
woven in eloquence of expressions
of rustling leaves and chirping birds
the unsung melody of wind chimes
the unchained beauty of rainbows
the crush for the charming face
the pains of the broken dreams
the joyous moments of happiness
and the saddened verities of life
vents out for a poetic parturition