Sunday, 18 May 2014


Edward Hopper, 1922
Courtesy : The Mag

Every alley, an artist's chef d'oeuvre,
Paintings made and unmade,
Riotous is an ingenious mind,
Incendiary when empty.

A coffee ruthlessly motivates,
Her hair - red, lusty, suborn,
Loud as her enunciated amor,
Eyes - hidden, lest you burn!

Brain, cognizant by habit,
Collects trivial flashes,
Brush drips in the mightiest red,
The red of unrequited dreams.

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

What a Ring Says

I used to embellish her hand,
Sustain its glow - yet
Not a costly ring,
Not embedded in gold.

I remember her friend's eyes
as he searched the shop,
And content; once he found
the perfect gift - Me!

Her cheeks turned red,
The darkest of all red,
His smile glorified me,
Her kiss sanctified my being.

She gave unsuspecting care,
Carried me along like a child,
Talked, caressed, laughed,
I found the beauty of being alive!

I am left in disarray now,
Without her, nights are longer,
I feel her pulse; still resound,
Along with her goodbye.

Her friend sleeps beside me,
A wave of dreams torment us,
Dreams of our wondrous days
with the one we both loved!

Monday, 12 May 2014

The Lonesome Travel

The road ahead (dusty and barren),
But with significant flux of change,
Greenery remains lost in reminiscence,
A Cadillac asserts the shift of paradigm.

Yet the earnest mind fights,
Each step is an uproar against distance,
And each moment a destiny I write.

The road ahead (dusty and long),
Beside me nothing but my swansong,
Above me clouds, stars and love, and
In front a noble mystic waiting to be found.


Like colors are for an artist,
Words for a poet,
And dreams for a nomad,
Her smile for me profound.

Orchard turns saffron,
Lights inside turn dim,
Abruptness destroy grace,
As I drown in memories.