No proper poet would do this

No proper poet would do this
and keeps a poem waiting
a drying pen and longing sheets
and keeps himself straying.


No pouring in the midnight lamp
and sleeps thick snoring
dreaming morrow's work in camp
 and thinks of Arabs boring.

Don't Ask Me

What state of heart is this
How this association does it make
See in and let go your heart
In moistened eyes and you can see
And sometimes in your smiles
you want to know what you see
How fretful a moth is and as it glows
But why is fretful and why it glows
If you want to know
Then be in that glow and then you see
And don’t ask me what my love does keep
What it keeps and what it conceals
A flame that it is in the deep
A flame in my heart and is concealed
Don’t ask me what my love does keep
Coloring in the bloods oh I have
from my heart and of my dreams
I have graced all deserted springs
Ah! In their forlorn etiquettes
Don’t ask me what my love does keep
Is being tried to be chafed away
By all, and salvaging it me alone
enwrapped in the heart and soul
is this treasure and is forever to keep
It endures the affliction, it sees you not
I ignore and I forget all the else
Don’t ask me what my love does keep
Don’t ask me……..

My Hidden Closet

Among best hidden there is a closet,
no rosewood no shiney metal in make,
opens to no key and no locking ratchet
compromising safety and making fake.

Some dreams are kept, some woven fine,
some prayers are kept, some written long,
I clean them more to see them in their shine
and to prune away all what hidden wrong.

All my years, the more colorful of them,
like what a pebble picker seeks in pebbles
and then what is done after choosing them,
I took in so many and saved like bubbles.

Some recent moons the colors are fading,
and bubbles are weighing like pebbles too.
Wishing, with them could do some trading,
in reluctance, I see most slipping through.

No dream I hold and not my prayers long,
My closet has just to keep these two scrolls,
the one that prays keeping its keeper strong,
and the one that holds promises taking falls  .

Our Identity

Being asked of some signs and of our identity
and of possessions we together keep,
Tell! I am a river ebullient flowing in my youth,
my flow is music, my flow is all the life
to the mountain in whose laps I live,
and he is my mountain, smiling, standing heavens high

Excitement Of The Eyes

Eager are the words of excitement in the eyes
and are aware of care the speeches have to keep
Like early rays emanating from the sun in rise
and forgetting wounds from fight with past night's sleep.

To grow free from fears and all hateful vibes
and to look beyond the uncertainty in the dreams
dreams enduring ages, dreams connecting lives
defeating failures the same as cruel all schemes.

The pages all behaved in the calmness of the dawn
and sweetend in the likes of canary shows
in brightness growing wild, soon it all is gone
as the sweetness of the canary in a murder of the crows.

All gelded pages innocent, ruffled to their roots
and fearing from being lost in lusty winds
They wish to be saved with their attributes
before being carried away in the gusty evenings.

They return to be healed in their soul
and eyes are closed in defeat and pain
wounds are washed as some salty drops roll
To rise, to hope and to dream again.

My Happiness Hill

To those days indeed I owe a bow,
To the mornings and evenings equally so,
for what that is a light or delight, who knows ?
And blooms in both flowing to and fro.

Ah! The rain! A spray of the dew of the paradise
A boon, a miracle or an awaited prize
Are soaked in scents no earthly flower holds
clouds, those days they tessellate the skies.

The earth had none but in the heart a puny ache
For a celebration of true eternal make
To dance off all her dust and in her attire all adorned
Sans contraptions sans fears and just for goodness sake

What wish to make? What plume to hire?
Earth's happiness is no ruby no sapphire
A day of beauty and that beauty to come to stay
And to complete the earth to her heart's desire

Some baths I have taken in its sun
However sober but celebrations have begun
I have drunken deep from its melting of the moon
the drops collected in the depths of my earthen urn

Whispering breezes have let their secret spill
adornments of the earth too are in a thrill
the day, the most beautiful among days has come again
It calls me, It takes me to my happiness hill.

No Tears Yet

You wish to cry, but don't show your tears yet
and don't let your heart go down to burn
seek no relief and search for no refuge
don't think of dying and think of no return.

you wish to cry,but don't show your tears yet
and don't curse your fate for the delay
your dreams are golden your intent is pure
be saving your cries best for that golden day.

O Simba !

In the faces of all soft paws
I try to see your happy face
among all tinkling sounds around
I try to find your tinkling lace
in my heart I do complain
why ever had you to venture out
in my heart I knew your pains
why ever had you to venture out
when you came to me to sleep
and I would rub your under chin
you would sleep like in mother's lap
and I would proudly feel akin
there is no one after you have gone
to lick my fingers in my sleep
no one comes to check on me
for a constant company happy to keep
I miss that when I clapped to call
and you would play with me for hours long
I miss your faces you would make
to woo me after something wrong
I miss you but I try to be happy for you
I remember how you skipped meals
and sit with me like a princess dull
I know you know how it feels
has not changed a dime of what is yours
your bowls and your supertoys
I treasure them and often I touch
to see you in your superjoys
I pray you are happy where you are
and you have all that you searched here
and I love you and forget you not
and I see you when I am there.

Tiny White Flower

In lights bright as have always been,
and dense in variety as gardens you have seen,
moths and all kinds of butterflies,
beetles and creepers and even dragonflies,
throng along all flowers swaying high and bright,
but lies longing all day one tiny herbaceous white.

Worth Every Wait

what that remains at the edge of sights
and solemnly breathes in hopes and sighs
imbued in dreams and desperation alike
and salvaged through the deepest of sleeps
is what to seek and to demand and to fight from fate
and is kept to treasure and is worth every wait.

O Oarsman

your river is notorious O oarsman
and your dinghy whiny weak
all day clouds been conspiring
with the winds in no way meek

your shore still far away O oarsman
and the evening is growing deep
your oars been trying adding weight
with your limbs trying to sleep

your heart is alone with you O oarsman
and no one listening to any of you
sing aloud to each other O oarsman
and let all besiegers listen too.

Safar

rahi tu thak na jana
tera door hai basera
 raahein badi kathin hain
aur door hai savera
rahi tu gir na jana 
thokar bhari guzar hai
chalna sambhal sambhal ke
dhundhli teri nazar hai
Bhatki hui dagar pe
nahi koi paasbaan hai
bhakte hu kisi ka 
nahi koi aashiyaan hai
sitaron mein yaad rakhna
raahon ki chal kya hai
chanda ko poochh lena
raaton ki dhal kya hai
raaton ki khushbuein bhi
lubhati hi rahengi
hawaon mein thand le ke
sulati hi rahengi
nazron ke aaine pe
manzil ko aabaad rakhna
safar ke thamne ko
manzil ke baad rakhna
sajaye guzri raahein
amanat mein aan rakhna
agar rokti ho aahein
zamanat pe jaan rakhna
shiddat ki pyaas hogi
aur jazba nidhal hoga
ladkhadate qadam hon jaise
wohi dil ka haal hoga
tere dil ki taqwiyat ko
kafi manzil ki ek nida ho
ban jaye aisi manzil
teri raah pe fida ho
rahi tu phir na jana
badhna nahi sahal hai
aage ko badhte rahna
bas yehi ek hal hai
rahi tu thak na jana
tera door hai basera
raahein badi kathin
hainaur door hai savera.