Category Archives: middle age

Why I can’t give up I?



Here comes the sun through the porous of rain forest

Where everything seems hairy like the many unseen earth

The roots of deciduous all covered with rainbow like bushes

Some could spot out, some not

I could see, being as a tree

Why I cant give up “I”?

Or else I could lost

Into the shades of arbors.

Impetuousness where never stomps

The red armies of ants march all around

Yes, I will, I will

One day, I will free from

Everything, even from lustrous “I”

Perhaps would be born again

As green clumps of earth

At least life will go

In the spirit of selflessness.



5th July, 2016




I know why my life is so beautiful

I know why my life is so beautiful
People want to know my livelihood?
I answer them the truth
They want to know more about me?
I reply them this is only my mind
I live only with the joy of mind!

An intellectual who always think he is the genius only
Always tend to find out my flaws
He asked me reversely,
Why are you so supple?
I answered him, it is the reflection of my mind
Cause I’m made up with the mud of my mind
That’s why I’m so soften!

A cunning beard person always give me the sermons
And say to me, righteousness brings serenity
I replied him, I only believe in the purity of mind
Cause through this mind I see, hear
That’s why I know why my life is so beautiful!

29th June, 2016

Knowing that I have a kinship with the sorrow

Knowing that I have a kinship with the sorrow
I stumbled down on the earth.
Hiding that relation, I lost everything
And the people interpreted me wrongly.

Knowing that I have a kinship with the sorrow
I ignored the way of self destruction
Cause I discovered the truth unconsciously
Hail, hail to this venerable watery brain.

Knowing that I have a kinship with the sorrow
I conquered the sorrow through the softness
The water who quench my thirst, musing on that watery brain
I tend to forget, swallow the queen of grief

And become impermanent through the watery
And again turn into Not self through the transiency
That’s the way of life
Strategy to forget the sorrow!

28th June, 2016

At last end of the eve


At last end of the eve, self have been sacrificed
Now I became joyous like the Earth.
In mirth sometimes I lied across the rivers
Where the history dance between the grasses
And again touch the sky and the sun
Without squinting while gazed
Yet the tears dripping down
And reminds me that, I was a being once!
Rising from the Pacific aftermath
Seeing the rain-forest, give rise a feelings of delta
Cause once I was moving around the silted land.
While I reach to the Himalaya as a big bird
And become a not-self while meditate
Then again I enter into the realm of music
Give rise the feelings of musician
Whilst I had a Garth of notes!!
And lit the torch of music,
In the Olympic!

26th June, 2016


Today would be the last dawn of  Simon’s matteer

Though his feelings more into this city in which he once belonged to

Today would be the last reckoning as the brightness always fades away

Shall the city what he knows as home waiting for him in impromptu?


The remnant of a family, ramshackle rooms and the alluding intensifying memories

All reminds a purity that could happen in future serenity

The windowpanes, curtains, scatter tubs and towels

All are weeping silently and waiting for a sweet calamity


Don’t grief said by a bunch of a grief tourist of the walls

As they gather, gathered in a swarm into that last count

The poet Simon looked a far where the lane ended

Thinking of his son and wife as the ticking mounted


30th May, 2016

How much will you take Endlessly!

How much will you take
The canoe, river and the periods!
Thus I’ve found a heaven
And its appropriate
What ever you say
But I’ll steak to the heaven
Like the glue
Would you like to
Know the theory? wingless fairy
‘First you have to be soft
Then spread around the realm of mind’
Now, conquer the war
Conquer the heaven
Everything happened
Got it!


26th May, 2016

I touched you with my crude hand

I touched you with my crude hand
Knowing the filthiness of it’s prejudice.
And now the life which is evolving
Throughout the uncolored horizon,
Nothing could stop it, except
The insipid cup of tea of our dreamy belongings
Which fabricating the sanctitude even more.
Surely hinted by you!
Yet the blue sky spread out a star fair here
Musing for an inexplicable incorporeal goddess.
Hence, I would turned to be a woman again
To see the comedy instead of tragedy!!

Am I just a box of sorrow to you!

Am I just a box of sorrow to you?

Or  the memories of sadness only!

But still waiting for you dwelling in a box

A box full of insanities still surrounding, grasping

Across my tiny room as they turned into bugs .

They swarm, gather in the walls  like forest

And eventually turned me to a sacred box.

Isn’t it possible to send me as a parcel to you?

Do you think a box always remain as  mortal!

A mortal could only altered to be a selfless

Like me, or like a stray

Or like a waving cosmos

Falls before the osmosis!


7th May, 2016

The true mystery behind these crow foots

I heard and learned many many times that the real talent ripen lately.

Similarly that fact also appropriate for the true freedom seekers who wants to fly like birds, but in between the long path that one has to cross while achieving the wisdom, nobody neither  sees it or perceive it. Rather they only observe the manifestation of wrinkles that slowly surrounds the eyes and yearning to grasp the whole skin. In English people say “ crow foot” which only spreads the pity or compassion. Therefore I had to stopped short  to soliloquizing that “how many beautiful days and nights I’ve been lost through this crow foot like streets of illusions by forgetting the sweet smile of sweet heart which could  only be compared with the wretched story of the urban crow who destined to succumbed.