Wisdom!

Through the meandering paupers did I waddle
Brushing aside hopes and hunger with my paddle
To tryst with him she calls my source
And glue the pieces of the heart that’s coarse!

A worthy and pious mate of my flock – and my
Aeons of trust on that broken rock,
Calls from within and offers a knock
And the silence breaks with my own mock!

Now that I know I do not know
Why will I ever go with the flow?
There is no fear and there is no goal
When you know you are the whole!

The time comes to unwrap the gift!
To train the mind and stop the drift!
And then you hear it clear and loud
Screaming out of that perpetual shroud!

So brilliantly does the silence glow,
Feasting on your beliefs and all your trust!
Know for once and let that knowledge blow,
Wiping it off with all its gust!

When Imaginations Fail...

And that nibble brings down the nail,
That stood tall and proud, waiting hail!
Unmindful and unperturbed does my mind sail
Farther and deeper, freed from a broken jail
Unto the end of that ocean to fetch a pail
Of imagination of ecstasy or wail!

The odyssey’s been long and pale!
As I return to fill my pen and ale,
Goes in vain my yarn of spun tale!
Gobbled up on way by a mammoth whale!
All I have here on this useless rope that’s stale,
Are two ends, one with “ail” and another with “ale”!!

There she goes...

You pound and you don’t kill?
Do you need some death pill?

Either halt and make me still
Or stop weighing like a mighty hill.

You string my brow with beads,
And all my mercury sinks!

At this summit of all my needs,
You throttle me to fleeting winks!

Now you beat and now you smile,
All warm and proud of this act of guile,

I think you need all my while,
Before you miss her by half a mile!

The Pendulum Mind!

The glee that candy bar brought along
Is sold to the couple more in other hands;
When the people to praise just him, throng,
Kisses and consolations are my magic wands!

Times I wonder, why the heart sinks and soars,
In spite of knowing all swings are mundane chores!
It leads to our teachers who taught it poses
And told that Life is not a bed of roses!

As they see that toddler grapple bliss,
Their filthy filthy heart thinks this is amiss, - and
Embarks on that traditional vicious routine warns
And thus ploughs and plants all the thorns!

Their games are up and it’s you and me now,
We will see miles and miles of bliss and roses,
We have the thorns and we have the plow,
Do we play it too and poke our noses?

Let the heart soar for one last time,
And never shall it roll for that awry crime;
Then will you see what I see right there,
Its roses and roses and roses everywhere!