Friday, October 14, 2011

rogue word alley...

aah words, you irascible rogues.
what is it that you whisper into my ears?

"for old time's sake, my old friend,
let us take a walk down the alley."

take me back if you will,
cause the truth be told.

i missed thee.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011


little by little, the words come to me;
voices calling out inside my head.

say it, write it, paint it they say;
cause we're but wisps in the wind.

...gone, just like that.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Ahab's Rage...

the eerie mist of a sunless dawn,
snakes its way across the land.
silent and still, the Pequod awaits,
fitted to embark on its fateful quest.

its iron harpoons wrapped in veil,
forged to hunt in a watery grave.
the silence of its windless sail,
a ghastly invite to the foolish brave.

for when the dark snatches the light,
each one filled by the sins of old;
crazed men will set sail tonight,
led by a rage only Ahab behold.

with avarice stoking their iron tips,
men with carnal lust seek the beast.
the taste of fresh blood their nimis,
without which the air despair breath.

the sail filled with the force of avarice,
no prayer leads the proud Pequod forth.
for the ocean giveth men their destiny,
to each an equal measure of their worth.

death for all, salvation for none,
rage leaves behind love forsaken.
a home somewhere buried done,
a memory one hath forgotten.

the wrath of man is a terrible thing,
for one, it'll smite an insulting God.
vengeance filling Ahab's entire being,
he follows the white fire to his fiend.

only that Satan's son to hunt and kill,
will quench the rage that Ahab feel.
from where it cometh, this mad will?
one that strengthens Pequod's keel.

all life unleashed in one final aim,
when Ahab meet the white whale.
what was this rage that led men to sail,
knowing the destined end to this tale?

Monday, March 07, 2011

wine and bread

while the demons of passion weaken your knees,
these quaint sips gently lull the besotted mind;
such is the thirst of this wine.


morsels that feed your irascible roguish anguish,
for which men would be beasts without thought;
such is the hunger for this bread.

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

sea shells...

for the shallows hold the many secrets of the deep.

timeless tales of the sea,
laid bare by the retreating waves through shells in the sand;
left back to whisper the fates of men.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

what brings us together...

what is it that brings us together?

like a gentle breeze on a moonlit night
guiding the dance of a feather's flight;
a mindless traveler fancying a tripe.

like the fragrance of a new blossom,
drifting in the feisty spring wind;
a feel-me-close, but touch-me-not dream.

like the dizzying dance of a desert storm,
running endlessly in the waterless sand;
ravishing hungrily all at hand.

for soldiers we are not,
to be commanded to war
in a cause that is not of our own.

it has to be something,
akin to an inscrutable fiend;
and so it is destiny.

Friday, December 17, 2010

the eyes' treasure...

tepid and timid, thieving forlorn glimpses,
how can they be anything but venomous;
to the bold wind caressing your hair.

blinded that they are, these distant oculars,
blinded with the sight of your beauty;
my eyes are now sinners.

to spite others who behold your beauty,
is the sin they'd gladly surrender to;
finding salvation in each glimpse won,
now forever theirs to treasure.

Tuesday, December 07, 2010

the only one standing...

fragrance of blossoms re-enacting an eternity of birth & death,
stolen into the distance by the gentle breeze;
all that remains is the seed that germinated into the tree.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

men don't cry...

...and so said Zeus, son of Cronus, father of Gods & men...

burnt by thy own fire,
O' Prometheus, forgotten shall be thee.
thy gifts turned to dust;
nothing thee did will ever be enough.

guarded by vengeance, chained by ignominy
a bare rock to pierce thee flesh;
where you'd fantasized the touch of gentle lamb skin.

pain & punishment, thy reward for having done fair.

not a tear shall trickle from thee eyes
to whet thy hollow sigh of lament.
it is your bane, O' Prometheus,
that men don't cry.


Tuesday, October 19, 2010


की छोटी-छोटी बूंदों से बने है सपने हमारे - कुच्छ कामियाबी के, कुच्छ खूशी के - जिनसे सजाया है हमने हमारी दुनियाँ को |
सपना एक ऐसे घर का; जिसमें हर दिन हो खुशियों की दिवालीजिसमें बसी हो हमारे आनेवाले कल की उम्मीद...
एक नयी दुल्हन कि पायल की झंकार, बच्चों की गिदगिदाती हँसी, बुढ़ापे का साथ
...बस यही तोह है सपनो का घर हमारा