Silhouette

As I stare

One evening,

Drowsy day is

Preparing to sleep.

Electroplating gold,

In front of me.

On the towering

Slopes with

Bedecked snow.

 
Defused sun

On the horizon

Fading halo

On the twilight

Silhouette

Shows.

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Golden horizon

Telescopic eyes
Focusing:
On the streets of imagination.
Find the shadows dancing,
Like puppets.

Fleeting like,
Fickle clouds marching.
Try to catch them,
Never seems concrete and solid,
To harness.

Spreading, a net in the air,
like the sticky fibre of: the spider yarn.
I sink deep in madness,
And neverland reach.

When I awake to see,
From meditative slumber,
I find a golden horizon
Glowing in front.

Melody of the letters


That stout fort
even with stalwart force,
Breaks into pieces.
And bends in front of:
Your knowledge.

Following,
A narrow street you came,
To corroborate knowledge.
Oh! Divine inspiration,
With limited unfolding of art.
To explore the form…
You blink and flash, that vast
Light of aura, illuminating
Bright.

What fire?
Of that heat,
You implement.
Stone even melts in front.
And melody in words,
You store,
gently motivates
To dance.

Intermixed colour


Mysterious clouds
Watching pensive,
Seems like a semblance,
Of: a weatherman…

Reading to predict
what might happen?
Or for the answers of:
Curiosity.

Oh!
They are moving
Dark, bright and white
Golden, raddled in red,
Azure sky infused
In colours of twilight.

Layers
Of the halo,
Like the brush
Of a surreal painter,
Dragged on canvas.
Obscure and hidden,
Faintly teasing,
To my nerves.

That intermixed
Colour.

And I sing for you

Whenever
I scream,
You tease with
Humor.

Whenever
I am sad,
You come with:
Smile to cherish.

Whenever
I am worried,
You come with:
Words of courage,
To console.

And I regret
Being angry,
Whenever,
You come with:
Love to erase
My anger.

And I laugh,
for the name
You give “Durbasa”
Comparing
To a sage.

I remember
What I was,
Before you came,
And what is it now,
After you came;
In my life.

You are
The perfect
Source of inspiration,
I would never
Have come
To this stage.

If you
Would not have
Come into my life.
And I can’t believe
Twelve years
Have already
Passed.

And I sing
This Ode for you
Coming to my life
My wife!

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Anonymous passanger

We are
Two strangers,
Sharing a same window,
Sitting beside.
I don’t know him,
Though, to break the silence,
To make the journey;
Bit easier and friendly.

I said:
“Did you see the waves?
Cleaning the beach.”
Window is wide open,
The view is clear,
And lovely.

Bus is moving,
Passing through the desert.
“Did you hear the silent oasis?”
I ask him showing.
Look at to the chalet,
Feel the smell of the brine,
Brought by the air.

Some time later,
I hear the squake.
Of the break, station came,
I see him getting ready to exit;
As the bus stop, I say, good bye.

He went unturned,
Devoid of any response.
Now I knew, I was talking to myself.
Accompanied with:
Anonymous passanger,
Uncommunicative
And mute.

Engine start grugling again,
Bus is moving faster,
I continue my journey,
With a series of question…
Of human estrangement,
And of: alien thought.

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A lamp on a desk

Listening
musical notes of:
cutlery cleaning,
clinking.

Soon,
the table
will be decorated,
to be dined on.
Food will be served,
It is the restaurant
for the hungry ones.

Chair is
waiting for someone,
and a lamp on a desk:
Double silence rest.
The lamp, the desk.

Indifferent
each other,
Even if co- operating:
for a reader,
or a writer,
to comprehend.

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