Poems

Moods sway
Thoughts fade
Words wither
Only poems last

Melancholy

wild thoughts

flooding emotions

invading  vents

deluging

silent innuendos

words linger

devoid of utterance

lacking verses
Peeling dreams

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

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

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

place perfect

I know a place

so quiet

with no one around

where I can sit

all alone

at full ease

in total  privacy

solitude aplenty

and vent

my pent up strains

so naturally

so freely

there is no place 

better than a toilet

Hating tears helplessly

I hate tears

but what can I do

I can’t stop them

I can only let it flow

incessantly

through the voids

of my desolate heart

Water my agony

till it dries up

my parched world

a little too late

send-great-flowers.

Am I a little too tardy

to hail the new year

Did I bid the yester year

a courteous bye?

and...

What about the resolutions

that all and sundry makes?

What have I been doing

all these days?

Hmm… I don’t know

I've woken up only now

Belated Happy New Year

Paused musings

I’ve been rushed off my feet

off late

I’m running around

to catch full circle

hectically hustling

on tons demanding

my attention

wondering at life

offering many errands

that must be run

nonstop unto death

off to poems for a while

I shall not pen down the lines

Someday

When I shall be free

i shall catch my thoughts

and weave it in words

But for now

It’s paused musings

a hundredth poem

I have adored the elegance of the faces

Eulogized the undying glory of the graces

Even extolled the splendor of the rainbows

And lauded the symphonies of the gale

I have approved the ups and downs of life

in the many myriad musings of my heart

born of thoughts that amply  fluttered

in umpteen moods that pensively frayed

I have even crooned some oblivious tunes

often in lovelorn state of a forlorn heart

I have stolen glances and delved for words

And I shall yet acclaim the earthly dances

and not miss out the swiftly fading chances

But for now its an umpteen hundredth poem

Itched to write

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A recluse of thoughts

lie entwined

almost lost

at the waking emotions

The heart craves
for an awakening

and ere the thoughts fade

I put my fingers to keys

have way with words

and throw together

Silly sentences

Failing often times

yet catching circle

in hungry air

My page fills

Searching eloquence

in expressiveness

A plain scribbler

that I am

and no less

for the itch to write

Tears tell the tale

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When emotions run amok

and feelings go amiss

Sorrows saturate into tears

Venting an out-pour

Tears wet the eyes

drowns the heart

Every teardrop

Has its story to tell

Every tear fall

Falls heavy with a pain

and breaks a sweet dream

Tears don’t move some hearts

cold and void of warmth

Some hearts don't perceive

the depth of words

I won't lament my tears

Let it flow to hollow abyss

of regrets and remorse

Let hearts break

and dreams fade

I won’t care

Life is a paradox

Misunderstood

Tears don’t move hearts

Tears are thinner than blood

A Dog Poops

A bastard pooch

son of a bitch

squats on all its fours

in perfect symmetry

fore limbs locked

hind limbs Z shaped

retaining the stability

absorbing the  shock

its spine curled in an arch

perchance for easy discharge

shoulders held back

head looking from side to side

ensuring no rear obstructions

ears drooping low, tail erect

eyes almost closed
and so poops out its crap thus

The holy shit

in all its glory

like a sausage

almost mouth watering

hot and fresh

grilled and tanned

peeps out just a little

retaining itself almost inside

the homely intestines

refusing to budge

and gush out the anal door

The fanged canine toils

shitty faced and  spent

struggles it all out

tasking all adipose

from head to the toes

and yet all the while

just a piece  droops out

and hangs precariously

the stray vagabond

in all its uneasiness

in all difficulty struggles

fighting against

an everyday process

so easy otherwise

but failing this time

It prays and probably thinks

“Come on shit, fall out fast

for heaven’s sake

Spare me

Spare my sphincter”

Can’t someone help
the poor soul

out of the crappy misery?

Sandcastle

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I toiled my efforts

often soiling my hands

stacking piles of sands

arduously, patiently

with gentle caring touches

in mere playfulness

against every force

bringing the mounds down

not withstanding 

the slightest annoyance

and  as I labored

over and over again

the piles of sands mound to shape

a  beautiful castle breathes alive

My Taj Mahal is up

I am amused at my creation

and gaze spellbound

at the wonder of the genesis

when the waves break on the shore

unannounced, uninviting

and rolls back momentarily
leaving my castle ruined

Distant stars

Invisible winds

Wretched thoughts

A careless journey

Unavoidable truths

And the distant stars

Who am I?

You called me

A bore

A dimwit

Immature

What names

Have you not called me?

was it out of love?

A jest of mockery

or in  a tint of anger

Never mind the names

Just tell me

Who am I actually?

Have I lost my identity?