Spleen


On a road that is too steep

murky memories are hard to keep.

Ineffable injuries  are very very  deep

They move at a  creep but

they ‘ve grown to a huge  heap .

 Sour sadness has taken a long leap

and my soul proves to be so cheap

that I start to wheeze and weep

then I  plunge into a nightmarish sleep.

 

Freedom at Last


The thunder roars

the lightning strikes

high hopes soars

to the  seven skies.

 

It pours down blood

a rebellion is in the bud .

The people’s stood up as one

the uprising has begun.

 

Under the cover of the night

guided by flickering fire torch lights

they gather for a fierce fight

to regain  their confiscated rights .

Fed up with living in obscurity

They let out a cry for dignity;

they ‘re Thirsty for freedom

they’re ready for martyrdom.

 

 

full of rage , full of pride

they march side by side

they take long sure strides

cos  in victory they confide.

 

 

 

 

Strong Love


My love to you is

deeper than the sea

softer than the morning dew

wider than the sky

freer than a bird’s fly .

 

My love to you is

prettier than a butterfly’s glee

atop a beautiful daisy

purer than a mother’s embrace

warmer than the smile on her baby’s face.

 

My love to you is

gentler than the night breeze

higher than the tallest trees.

brighter than the summer sunlight

stronger than an armored knight.

 

 

Timeless Verses


Emily Dickinson

( 1830-1886 Mass, US)

***************
Fame is a bee.
It has a song—
It has a sting—
Ah, too, it has a wing.


Blackout


with quick, cautious steps
I walked  among the crowd.
with a bated breath
I saw strange , distorted faces
pass by pitilessly.

Lost , confused
on the brink of panic
I moved on even quicker
amidst a disturbing chaos
and a deafening cacophony.

an adrenalin onrush ; a racing heart
a spinning head and droplets of sweat
brought my steps to a halt

dark thoughts  swarmed   fast
my dazzled eyes  shut

silence at last …….
total blackout.

End of Spring


youth ‘s  ebbed

my health ‘s worn  away

my skin ‘s   wrinkled

my hair ‘s  turned gray.

My joints once sturdy

now quake and ache

my hands once steady

now noticeably shake .

It’s been a long journey

Sprinkled with memories

Dim and bright

Daubed with deeds

Wrong and right

Dotted with  sweet successes

and many  foul failures.

The Beggar


 

Seated on  cardboard

shabby and swarthy

careworn and haggard

stretching a cadaverous hand

covered with calluses

to make an urgent demand

for money and food .

 

Some  people pass  by

turn their heads away

seem not to care

they refuse to see

as if  nobody is there.

 

Others hear the plea,

rummage their pockets

only for a short while

and hand  some dimes

enough to paint a faint smile

on a face furrowed by  hard times.

 



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