Ode to a beautiful face on the street

Ode to a beautiful face on the street

The skin depth soaked in

Divine angelic visage with falling cascade

Of silky hair down the shoulders;

The fragrance of a perfume

That diffused through me into my nose

Drove me mad.

In flashback as I move back

When my sight collided with her moves

And bruised my feelings

Thousand children of craze are born

In the warm womb my imagination

And expire

In the grave of my sensitive heart.

Now I just gaze in thoughts

To look for her

To embrace her tight

And feel the slippery cascade of hair

Again

 with the fingers of my mind.

Where are my dreams

Where are my dreams?

Where are my dreams

That once dwelled in me

And showed me a way to stroll?

Where are my dreams

That once inspired me

And woke me up to realize it?

Where are my dreams

That once stirred my entire childhood

And made me sleepless?

As present merges into the past,

As today becomes yesterday,

I seem living with hollow pipes

Of hopes

Trying to fill the water

Of vanity into it.

I loved you

 I loved you

I seem to have loved you

Year after year;

In times incalculable;

In numberless forms

And numberless ways;

In immeasurable measure of unit

I seem to have lost myself

In your thoughts-

Night and days,

Morning and evening

Winter and summer

Every time!

I know why a tethered goat bleats

I know why a tethered goat bleats

Controlled by the length of a rope,

Yet greenery for a better meal in its hope,

It reaches in vain to touch it,

And within imagination it salivates

And then suffocates in reality-

Suffocates with desires of a good meal

Suffocates with a struggle

And with the vanity of its efforts.

As starvation strike it like the lightening,

It bleats;

As thirst parches its throat

It bleats;

As scorching sun lashes it with cruel rays

It bleats;

As the dampening shower fall upon its body

It bleats;

Indeed, for myriad reasons,

It just bleats.

Happiness or sadness

Pain or pleasure

Hot or cold,

Those  don’t matter

For it just bleats!

Concealed in its dumbness

Blossoming are the flowers of a reason

Within the audibility of its voice;

There is a speech it conveys;

There is a talk it talks

But who cares?

Bleating is just a bleating

And it is the stupidity of a goat

But I know why it bleats!

It bleats to embrace the greenery

That its sight touches;

It bleats for all reason

And among all,

It bleats to herd the owner that tethers,

It bleats to remove the reins of rope

And walk

Jump

And graze as it wishes.

My identity

In me if you look with your eyes,

Nothing can you see,

Nothing can you find;

Stained in black dye of skin,

With bulging eye balls,

Dark growing beards and

Non- uniform tufts of moustache,

Pointed tip of nose,

With fading hair from the forehead,

And stammering speech

I fit into the description of any observer.

Yet if you listen to me and

My speech

You shall fathom me well;

I am that soul, which exists with hurry,

With a dream at heart

And a conscience that rules.

Sometimes I become like a aggressive dog

Like growling at a found bone;

Or if you observe carefully,

I become like an enlightened saint

With a kindness at heart!

Well…I have both the extremities

Yet I am not only what you see,

I am many more within.

My thought

As crepuscular light falls on the thickets,

After the dominating rays of sun,

There is a crescendo heard within me

Lamenting the departure of the day;

And when stars and moon dance in the sky

Emerging from the heart of dusk,

I sense a parting of someone

 Bosom friend

Or rather like a soul that was attached

To me for yonks.

Random thoughts

In my dreams

In my little thought,

I seem sleeping on a never realizing future;

On a strewn carpet of waiting days

I stretch my legs and spread my hands

And rest my heart on the beats-

Beats that screen the design of my future,

Beats that take me into imagination

Like a galloping horse on a rough path.

But with each sun rise and sun set,

And each new day I seem closer,

Closer to the real world I desire for.