Greens mingles with blueAdds a different colourA lovely picture Mix of cultures bring a tapestry of varied colours. A blend is always beautiful. Look forward for your thoughts on how a blend is better.
Tag Archives: Poem
A box full of memories
Earth ends it’s round tripAt the place where it startedIt marks the BirthdayAnother year is addedwith box full of memories Some happy some sadWhat one saw, did, felt and thoughtEach one shaped me wellthe memories I gatherIs all that I am made of I am me
Poles carrying the power
LightVoltageThe currentFull of powerBuzzing with the sparksPoles holding the live wiresenergy riding the wireStretching across to the next lifeLighting up many homes in its burnYet electricity remains untouched #etheree
Dhuan
है धुआँये जहांउड़ता हुआबहता हवाओं मेंफिर मिलता हैइन फ़िज़ाओं में कहाँउस आग से निकलाउस आग में दफ़नतू पहले था कहाँऔर कल होगा कहाँना तुझे खबरना कोई ग़ुमाये जहांहै बस धुआँ
In a Happy Place
There was a knota hurting oneDeepwithin the beating heart The constricting cageHolding the fearPiercingLike a painful dart The dread and the gloomPermeated the coreStretchingAnd tearing it apart At the bottom of abyssWhere light endedmotionlessIn the abysmal dark There I layAway from graceIn despairHope away from my grasp In that lonely coldI felt the gushof aContinue reading “In a Happy Place”
Rain Drop – Connecting two worlds #etheree
RainPouringFrom aboveDropping on earthConnecting both worldsTravelling the distanceBack there from where it startedFinding what it always yearnedBut then loosing itself in its searchTo merge with soil and be the earthy smell #etheree An Etheree poem contains 10 lines. The first line has a single syllable, and each line “grows” by one syllable until the tenthContinue reading “Rain Drop – Connecting two worlds #etheree”
What makes me laugh
I make the worldto live a lifeand enjoy and then I feel hurtand cry start believingmy own lie and then I wonder what will happenwhen I die and thatmakes me laughandsometimes cry
Tattoo on the heart
Needle pierces skinBlood dries black on broken heartThe mark remains there etched #haiku
The sculpture is being made
New placenew beginnings a blank new slatethe sun is lateit’s morning not yetbut I am wide awakeIts a fresh patha new trailthe one, I need to blaze every stumble taught a lessonevery fall a chisel strokethis sculpture is being madethe future is blurred but in my mind it’s clearit’s for me to create
Ghost with long hands
Saw a ghostWho had long handsI wondered what use were theyWhat would it touch It would seep through the wallsGlide through the doorsMelt through allWithout a worry as such But with such long handsIt felt awkwardWith them danglingWith no way to feel or touch It was happy oneBut the long handsScared a few a littleAndContinue reading “Ghost with long hands”
