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Poetry

Dig a hole and bury yourself

Dig a hole

And bury yourself in it

Let the bystanders watch

Let them latch to each other and talk

 

Who gave you the right to dig your hole?

That’s not how the wheel goes

Listen to your fears and settle

It’s a fool errand, the ensuing thought is an error

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Musing

Off with my head!

What if I cut off my thumbs

Then I will not scroll anymore

Not waste time anymore

On Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or other lures

Maybe I could do something which I think, is my thing, which I think will definitely be a high point in my mediocre life score

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Poetry

Our parents are getting old and we can’t do anything about it

Our parents are getting old and we can’t do anything about it

The circle of time is taking its turn

As it always does

And we can’t do anything about it

 

We remember our childhood, how we were the center of their universe

How the first step taken, first word spoken

Became a memory etched in their canvas as they unlocked us, by locking themselves

 

How gentle were their love

How sacred were their acts

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Poetry

Lady in Red!

There, I see her, standing far away, in distant time in her red dress

She’s slaying demons and dragons as she tip toes her way around

She’s effervescent, full of flaws
Floats in front of me defining earthly laws

Dancing to the rhythm of my beating heart
Her movement blares away the silence which surrounds my soul

I whisper to myself; the magician
Never seen such an illusion

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Poetry

Who am I?

I am pilgrim on a pilgrimage
No acts define me as sage
I have come to meet these shadows
Long forgotten their presence
I have grown older
I have aged
But still I have these questions, which won’t leave me, they don’t dissuade

I am the marathon man
As I am running
Endlessly, seamlessly
In quest of answers
I have been to moon and back
Even met the pillars and the founders
But still the quest remains
But still the thirst sustains

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