Not Without You

For My Wife

If I could write poetry

I would write to you

If I could sing a song

I would sing it to you

I would make them beautiful

And they would all be true

I would write of love

And how it is you
And then...

I would sing of life

And how it is...
Not, without you

........

                                                            

My Morning's Delight

My morning’s delight

For days you haven’t been

The effect is somber

I wake up tired, bloodshot eyes

A gush of air, across my face

Fails to drive you away

And I remember you

Conceited woman, wanton love

Futile desire, I mull over

Your treachery, albeit with no anger

Though gone, you are just at the turn

The play is stupidity, my princess

No more you can run

Luxury, worldly pleasure

You desire lavish affairs

But everything comes for a price

There is no remembrance

Of kisses we shared, the way we loved

Though I clearly remember the beginning

Of the end that was

My morning’s delight

For days you haven’t been

Darkness within, morning’s delight

For no more you will ever be

Words......

Words; an ensemble of differently arranged alphabets……come together to mean what you want to say…..and even that you don’t want to say…….thoughts, desire, demands, requests, pleas, orders and feelings; words say all……words……my best friend……my worst enemy….have won me admirers aplenty….and I have hurt friends as well……words…………..well, if only I could be more careful with you……………

I don't even try...

Everywhere – around, behind, at the front, and by the sides, the ugly and cruel face of poverty stares at me, mocks me. And, I see the mockery of life, brashly laughing at me, on me. Innocent faces wearing the mask of adulthood; soul – deprived of love, of care and yet getting on with life in the manner they have learned – begging, cheating, enticing the flesh hunters and getting poisoned, intoxicated to forget the worries; the realities for a few moments. These few moments are their bliss and they live in these few make-believe dream moments – only to get back to the world they know. I wish I could change their world, make it better in some way. Their world pains me, keeps me awake, and makes me cry. I feel ashamed over my helplessness and for the fact – I don’t even try…

To Break Free...

There is no form……no confinement……only chaos……you mould…….you lend….you conform……yet in essence…..nature…and everything else is free of any mould….of any shape that can be a limitation……..everything has to let go…….there is always an opening…..always….and freedom to mould….to break free…..to re-conform…….

Something about life...

When you are alone you realize how much you miss people you love. When you were together, you did not pay much attention to the fact that they too need you to be there - for them. Time you wasted doing nothing with the comfortable feeling of knowing that your loved will be there for you, waiting, comes back to haunt and you rue the missed opportunities of togetherness. Such is life, it teaches you to value time and time teaches you to value life.

Assertance...

Assertance is the virtue of strong......weak just whimper.....poor in life, the lowly gets filthier.....there is order among the rich and strong as well......strong...stronger...

..strongest.....demarcated as per territories....the strongs with stronger bonds, strengthen by power and the means to power.......and the order is prevailed...weak just whimper.....power marches ahead....the balance of unjust.......perfectly maintained.