Monthly Archives: August 2016

In the end, the Sea

a poem by

Where goes the sun at
long day’s end? To douse his red
flames within the Sea.

Where goes the monsoon
and her clouds after their dance?
To drink from the Sea.

Where goes the river
after meandering course?
To sleep in the Sea.

Where goes the Hilsa
tired from swimming up the flow?
To die in the Sea.

Where goes the sailor
who returned with his bounty?
To live in the Sea.

There may come a time
when I too shall return home,
to be with the Sea.

Tears of God

a poem by

The night shattered,
And shouts were loud.
Smokes of burning tyres,
Enveloped the cloud.
Loud, were the barks but not of dogs,
The city was trembling with bark of mobs.
People ran on the streets with religious cry,
In revenge of the tears in the eyes that dry.

Temples were quiet and mosques were calm,
The beauty of idols lost it’s charm.
Peace cried and unity sobbed,
At the sight of the riot oneness that robbed.
Can religion part us all?
Puts forward this question,
Every jot of blood that falls.

The Onset

a poem by

Do not stop the mind,
It wants to fly.
Let it reach,
Beyond the sky.
Where love lives its life,
And moon gives its light.
Where exists no spite,
And stars twinkle at night.
Let us all unite,
To fetch peace and delight.
Let us forget,
All the combat and fight.
Let us plow ahead,
And spread the mirth,
Let us set out,
And save the earth.

Tears

a poem by

Sound and light are so loud
Walk and talk are so harsh
Sun and moon are so far
Food and water are so abundant

Earth and air are so vast
Creation and destruction are so many
Heart and blood are so close
Hand and foot are so near

So
Let the tears and souls wash away
The happiness and sadness
Let it bring joy and hope

Warmth of Chasm

a poem by

The sound sleep days of life
Over the round pan cake couch,
The area so smooth and peaceful
With very little disturbance
Through the skinny wall of placental womb;

Money, enemy or more
Is of no importance to the mulberry that grow,
The knocking of each palm, some while
Is the only call to be heard
During those crawling days of life.

The radar is the only cord
Signals captured are quite strong,
Promising not to disturb any more,
Except during moments of boredom
The kick is only a sign to glow;

Those were really days of fun
No tension or any load,
The warmth of care and love,
Hope all man crams those
To do their best, for the rest of life that flows.