The palace pauper

 

Her warm, embracing presence,

An entire sea of excitement

surging through her,

Her body decorated with joy,

Skin’s electricity-charged pores,--

a living palace,

And there I walked

bored, lonely and afraid

to feel safe, loved and cared.

The fire

 

The fire that ate peace,

It chucked out many rarities:

an old tree with a new nest;

a handwritten manuscript

without another copy;

the sole copy of an ancient book;

the wood that was charred

without manifesting

what was hidden inside,--

the beautiful statue;

the heart that got singed

and the canvas burnt;

the smile slaughtered

on innocent lips

that would have blossomed

a nobler, kinder place.

 

The fire going into the eyes,

blinding and burning the dreams,

The fire parching the flesh

and singing the soul,

The fire in our minds

smoldering forever

to burn the paradise

that was offered to us

by the lovely, smiling,

benevolent mother nature.

The creeper

 

Feelings entwining, mingling,

twisting around each other,

holding out tendrils like creepers,

grasping each other’s soft stalks,

Like vines to soar higher.

To merge, to seep,

to crash into each other,

like sea waves on a beach.

Flowing together

to become something nobler;

to feel one’s presence

through the other.

The tired tailor

 

The tired tailor,

Working on a short man’s coat

stolen by a tall man,

Laboring to make it fit the thief.

 

The tired tailor,

Working to mend a thin man’s coat

falling in the hands of a fat man,

Striving to cover naked corpulence

with little strip of cloth.

 

God the struggling tailor,

Fixing the misfits,

A tired and worn out tailor!

The robbers

 

Those who can’t create,

they believe in destruction,

They don’t do much,

They create destruction at the most,

They rob others

of their rights to creativity.

The shop of love

 

Love at the spectrum’s lower end

would need something in return,--

a sweet-sour worldly barter,

But it’s still love,

the base model though.

Love at the spectrum’s upper end

would want nothing in return,

It just is,

Just selfless giving;

the top model;

pristine, pure, pricey.

Woman

 

You have already paid a big price

by being a woman

in a male-dominated world,

You then accept your status

of being under debt forever,

So you keep repaying your debts

in bits and pieces

on a daily basis

till your last breath.

Love

 

Love is solid in the bones;

fluid in blood;

airy fresh in breath;

tingling in touch on the skin;

sweet in smile on the lips;

tasty in words on the tongue;

light and hope in the eyes;

and lots of flowers

in the garden of heart.

The pathless path

 

Creating a path to God,

Flying like a bird

facing no barriers of

boundaries, brawls, rituals, sectarianism,--

the pathless path,

The path always there

but not visible till you move on it,

Like the path in the air

that was always there

but didn’t manifest

till some bird took

a joyful sorties in its airy swirls.

A fresh dose of joy

 

Fresh winds enlivened the spirit,

Cut through timidity

with the knife of loving familiarity

and friendliness,--

a growing closeness

embracing with a kiss.

Is it bodily attraction,

or pleasant feeling of proximity,

or being relaxed in presence,

or synchronization of thoughts,

or sweet melding of emotions,

or vibes on the same frequency?