Panting Wolves and Dancing Squirrels


A distant drum beat, darkness, skies…
To creep one out a forest always tries…

So there’s a clearing, moonless blues…

With a bonfire this, on can confuse!

Vibrating- dancing shadows turned to spokes,

Prancing silhouettes and no one talks!

And round and round is all they go…

In circles, on sand thus dark ones flow…

There’s self- commotion once you see

And in a jiffy feel the glee…

That you’ve seen and with no perils,

Painting wolves and dancing squirrels!

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Love Nature


An elegant curve of the path

With shades all around…

A pair of Arabesque hills

As they turn into the plotted math

Of scattered ponds on the ground…

And a few of memorable stills

Turning it’s whole beige core into wrath

Of multilateral picture- green all abound…

And ending at a pair of strings of matrix nils

Exploding into a flowy, shrill- shivery brown path

And stars exploding all around…

With all trees behind rising up like hills.

Contemplating about the hidden treasure

The Boom Impending


Something different is in this air…
This air is ethereal…

This air is eternal…

This air is yours Oh Earth…

Tell me whether it is real…

Tell me even if it’s carnal…

Tell me even if in dearth…

Drop at me like autumn rain…

Drop at me that heavy news…

Drop at me how Environment is climbing for the noose…

Sweep away my worldly pain…

Sweep away my subtle cruise…

Sweep away all worldly men, who dareth you to loose…

The Wizard


Some people ask:- “What’s it’ you say?”
Parry them I:- “With words I play…

Bedazzled, stand they, gazing broad

I point at them, while they applaud”
“What ’bout ‘s all the fuss?”, a voice.

“Oh crowd, I’m left with no choice…

How dare forget my name, you dude

This act of yours is utter rude!
For you’ve not asked from me the same

Involved the crowd to my shame!

It’s time to show you wizardry

You turn ‘nto toad by my decree!”
With that he gestured ‘nto air thin

A toad turned man sat aback then lean

With watery eyes, glanced at the crowd,

While wizard stood all great and proud.
The crowd spoke:- “With words you play…”

A scared pause added:- “…was what did you say”

“Afraid?”, exclaimed the spellweaving man

“It was just humour, that’s all a plan!”
Our wordmeister swung his hands.

In a whiff he changed the magic trends.

The toad leaped up and in no time,

Hugged him, shameless, covered in slime.
Wordplaying man was set aback,

Slime flying about with each whack

He did renounce all the claims:-

“I’m not the one who binds in chains!”
“What, what?”- crowd got all confused

To speak any further he refused.

Toadman spoke:- “All of you we do address,

Don’t worry, we did not digress to your distress
He’s an actor- I’m the man, his magic’s fine

And this darn script ‘s of my design!

I guess you all were played damn well,

You read till here and that is swell!”

Like fish in the sea


The awestruck fish was stuck in a tree
Thumbing it was, trembling, to get free…

Life twirled and turned it like a darn hurricane

Only to leave in hardship and vain…
Fishy fidgeted a few tiny leaps ahead

Then it realised that it just fell from bed…

But how felt the dream, you can’t fathom, just see…

The man turned- fish felt like one fish in the sea…

The One on Strength & Perseverance


When people ask me:- “Are you strong?”

I point, that their question’s wrong,

I say:- “It’s not just really all the strength,

That helps survive you to this length.

But how, this length, you do perceive

Through all the friction you recieve.”
When people tell me:- “Wrong, you might be!”

I flail them, “That depends on how you see.”

They preach how strength and even power

Is grown with friendly people’s shower

Of their goodwill and blessings; “That’s thin”

I say and add, “This first comes from within…”
They scream and shout, “How dare you!?”

Of egoism, in this debate, they me do sue.

“A little scared they’re, ‘s what I think

To face their sins and cross that brink,

Confess of evil thoughts lurking their mind

And speak of how they fight ’em for mankind”
Each day, each night, each dusk, each dawn,

Pitch black heed grows our mind upon.

We strive, we fence, we burn, we fight,

With morals, ethics, brought up might

And frown when fellow strikes amiss

And finds oneself in dungeon bliss
He is not strong, not strong at all,

For him his friendly people took the fall

And now all they all do is just repent

On how ugly scary was his dissent,

And how they had in this no hand

And this was only his failure grand!
The lonely bastard’s hit hard by wall

How people standing by him tall

Now vanish, never to be seen,

While once lost mind, is never clean,

And there he sits in stone cold cell,

With all well-wishers, lest wish well.
He sees now, that this sin his- grave,

If only once he were that brave,

To shut them out, stay solo- soul,

And let his wicked thoughts to crawl

And face them straight with no advice

From friendly people- witless’ demise.
Then maybe, maybe he’d have seen

That strength he seeks is there within

 And darkness shunt away, aside,

That right came with no one beside.

For no one’s wicked born with head,

But it grows unto them instead.
But what is done, is done and stains,

And now he’s left to endure the pains

Of heavy chains and morbid thoughts,

With none, but hope of grimly sorts

That perseverance’s all what’s left

Now, lonesome burden for him to heft.
He might not live to tell his tale,

But this- a thing one must not fail,

To seek and find within that good

Which makes one strong or so it should

At least to judge oneself permit

Where people rise, where fall in pit.

Pedal of Century


It was half past eleven, then a quarter to twelve,
Then creeped the clock stealthily for a gong beat.

We sit, somewhere lay we, in deep thoughts we delve,

Mind like some clocks did serenade and tweet.

Our stupor, if not turned to a slate’s screen

Is rather enthralled by the darkened bright skies

Or maybe traversed to some grasslands lush green

Calmed, but not really, we shut down our eyes.

Anxious lay some, restless are others, few left baby-like,

Heartless some, broken are others, few lay cold and alone.

What they all really need is to take that darn, lovely bike

And pedal way deep into abysmal abyss with no phone!

Impressions


Remember the first time you were scared, but not really…

Sometime around that time, your infancy left.

Remember the last time it all felt so easy, but not really…

Someone made sure your castle of childhood was built.

Remember the first time you lost, but not really…

Somewhere in that decision, you befriended your teens.

Remember the last time you risked it all, but not really…

Someday, thus somehow, we all matured.

The Search


Something highly relatable for each of us at one point or the other in our life…

Maybe it is the search for the ultimate purpose or maybe it’s just all about a pizza…

One might never know…
What if whatever you just fail to find…

Is hiding right there in plain sight…

But you’re one clumsy kind of blind…

You just can’t find it in this light???
What if you search for that in place…

That’s just not right, for it to hide…

And it’s damn staring at your face…

Lost, have you sight- eyes open wide???
What if that thing has no disguise…

But you’re searching masquerade…

Still here- seeking, post it’s demise,

Shortsighted, dwelling in crusade???
What if all this effort blown to skies,

Mirage made into​ the fair of Vanity

Is moulding real all those lies

And dripping on our sanity?
What if you’re searching​ for the meaning

Yet can’t find a pivot point- full life- like..

And think of these as words demeaning…

Bedazzled, but still void in thy psych?

The Chances


At playing card factory, piles of cards- all prints, get sorted…
Still hot, they travel miles, to get to box they courted…

We tag defective our lives- a solitary Joker of a deck conforming…

A random draw- high fives, thus turns our lives heartwarming…
Getting that tightly packed, they smudge each others’ ink…

Those tinsy smears stacked, amend more than you think…

Some turn Hearts sweet, hurt spiky- Spades few prick…

Some Diamonds built with heat, some Club until they sick…
How lucky is thy draw, depends on how you perceive…

The monster that you saw, turns to lifeline you recieve…

You’re boxed in, solitary Joker, and yours are chances rare…

This draw game is like poker, each draw- a million dollar affair… 

What if…


What if at the end of the line, if we say no to “Is there anything that you want for what you’ll be willing to go through the hell all over again?” and therein lies our salvation?

What if in process described lies the sole purpose, the educational aim of meditation?

The neighbours’ greed

turnt conquistador…

The conquistador’s wrath

against one’s valour…

The rebel’s sloth

of neighbour’s neighbour…

The early murder

was in labour…

The glutonny of the free

turnt sinners into hoarders…

The feudal lust

grew up those country borders…

The current pride

lies in the strength of orders…

What if…

What if he asks & you say- “Yes, more?”

& therein lies punishment?

What if…

​The sweet essence of moment…


This one is for the depressed souls, those who spend their nights in sorrow and absolute stupor of their situation. The psychological wave is used first to conform and accept the situation and then to show an alternate beauty of the nature, which keeps our side through thick and through thin.

If there’s a difficulty in understanding the poem straight away, read odd lines and get the vision of nature, while if you’ll read the even ones- you’ll get the condition of the person in depression.


Sandwich’d layers top down skies…

One’s fed up with their hissing lies…

Ascend the staircase to stargaze…

Burn one’s eyes on that face…

Boiling, mighty Earth’s insides…

Fuming are one’s darkened eyes…

Brush’d the breeze through the green…

Burnt down- memories one’s seen…

Deadly pitch plack crouching fear…

Doomly thoughts one does wear…

Pounc’d & snapp’d lope’s pain…

Lies one crampled ball of vain…

Smooth melodious crackling bark…

Clenched lies one’s hair stark dark…

Fat burstin’ cheeks, holed in rodent…

One’s cheek- crimson pressed in dent…

Sweet smelling joyous dancing grass…

Veined out, one fails to cry out brass…

Sniff’d the air that sworn predator…

Beating, tearing up- this darn obliterator…

Swift & cautious pawed by lost soul…

Cramped, stiff, yet sobbing whole…

Hoot missed  that disappearing tail…

Still, lies one doubting one’s tale…

Turn’d the Earth, stifled beauty- Utopia…

Thoughts railed with chaotic Dystopia…

Calm’d are the starnights, calm’d the moonsight…

Calm’d now lies one mindless, child of the light…