Melancholy

wild thoughts

flooding emotions

invading  vents

deluging

silent innuendos

words linger

devoid of utterance

lacking verses
Peeling dreams

Haiku

We meet to depart
we depart to meet again
Hasta la vista

Bitter but better

Fighting it off ain’t easy

Can’t get you to change your thinking

shall alter my dreams instead

Throw it in the trashes

Ere the bruise deepens

Ere the dust settles

bitter though
yet all the better
for this imperfect heart

in my thoughts

The sun crosses the skyline

Darkness  descends

A wind blows past

The light flickers

The birdsong dies

Everything leaves

Only you stay

in my thoughts

Esker Realities

Betwixt

the alluring dreams

and the pressing realities

life sways precariously

in volatility

Darkened by inhibitions

of confusions and betrayals

Speed breaking bumps

pull me down

through potholed paths.

Life hangs on a tether

of callous emotions

and pervading thoughts

discarded and dissolved

in expensive smiles

and frozen tears.

Souls drudging

to shallow emptiness

and yet I must sync

my mental state of being

I climb up, step by step

enticed by the dreams

Bound by the realities

Pacing my karmic stride

to esker realities

poetic graffitti

The pen gazes

at the sheet

plain and bare

stray thoughts loom

as I brood to write

the line squiggles

thoughts wander

ceasing oftentimes

capricious
wayward

I mull over

all over

the muse at large

I doodle

Rue

Teardrops in the eyes
Nothing but a fallen heart
What more is there?

Outlander

Anonymity is my garb

Vagabond my personage

Faceless is my being

Outlander my name

mysterious are my ways

in guise of curiosities

and  heartless facades

Like a passing shadow

I am doomed to fade

cannot  unmask the mask

cannot star gaze your hopes

banish me to vanish

if ever I mar your dreams

blithe life

Smiles

Sweet

and serene

enraptures

blithe life

in blissful

solitude

resounds

symphony

to the heart

in silence of

puckered emotions

Flame at the wick

Let disputes die

Disasters perish

Coldness calm down

May luck transcend

Good vibes follow

and joyful aura

For every streak

A flaming spark

Lighten the trails

May dreams see

darkness subdued

and radiance gleam

And all through

May the flame at the wick

flare and flourish

unwavered

unknown

the silhouette
knows not
the clouds floating
near
and yet afar
and I
a bystander
look on
 

Geriatric

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

cold hands

never to fall apart

for aeons to hold your hands

and  now your hands are cold

Nonstop

Busy!
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

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

Sans poetic Sense

My  blog has gone  awry

All this while

sans the well timed posts

nonsensical though

yet endearing

to the poet

But I am not dead

i am still alive 

and somehow kicking

Poorer in thoughts

I am now bereft of the muse

So strange for a poet

words fail me

as  life tweaks

unusually

I strive hard

I strive against

and yet

can't maintain

the deft balance

I fear 

If I should

ever loose

my poetic sense

trust

you rebuke

that
i don’t trust you

i am sorry
i can not
for 

i don’t trust myself