Chopin is something where always true love exists
Blooming within the truth and lie.
All the songs that I heard till now
All bound to fall timely or untimely.
But then only Chopin remain
Withstands against the all odds,
And ask, will you go back to Renaissance?
Intend to destine to Baroque?
Or tend to moor into his Romantic!
Where Louisiana always spreads her hand out
And drags me to the woods.
The scatter notes of jazz
Turns out into the outright trivia.
Chopin, I can’t play your Nocturnes anymore
Perhaps, it is too late
To moor up in your Island!
6th October, 2016
A young lady asked me
What could be the best approach of music?
I answered through the thread,
“To understanding music is like
To understanding philosophy
To understanding life”
She giggled with her painted lips
While I turned back to the window
Where bucolic scenario always allured
Music animated throughout the brain field
Oh, if the piano would be here!
I could easily portray it here!!
27th June, 2016
Father, I invoke you every morrow
Throughout my withered alien heart
Father, I call you through every past
I can see you in every dreams of night
Father, this wretched son is a king now
As he lives in his true wisdom
Father, I believe I ordained your name
Since I knew myself through the freedom
Oh my father
I believe we fly together
Oh my father
I believe we live forever
21st May, 2016
I swept my canvas
Only to draw you
The moon disguise in you grined
Saying, “its too late wretched one!”
Hence, “I” lost forever within the softness
Of moonlight, still moonlighting as a leftover
From where the mellow blues forms
As the downpoure starts stealthily
Says, “will you willingly joint with me
In this harvest moody blues!”
9th May, 2016
Now Its time to be a snail
To live life into the shell of snail
look out through its subtle whole
to the infinite horizon of soul.
be touched by the untouched memory
and the sad story of sanctuary,
from thence lets the exodus begin
through an unwounded journey
with the dream of Nirvan honey.
Nobody will hurt
If I would blow
let me be me
Let me out of me
my formless fairy!
18th April, 2016
I had a guitar to strum it in the park
Only of the dalliance with a tree caused to forget you
The broken drums set and the invisible Piano saying
The golden sexophone with its broken teeth saying
I want you, I want you darling
In this late in the evening
Very lately with this witherd physique
after crossing the Himalya
And yet, thinking here onto the Alpse
To draw you with the dried up brushes and colors
And thus floating on the boat of the painting
Yes I know, its very late!
Umm, its very late!
The year is passing in the speed of supersonic
The sun shines and the night will pass
As like as life is like a comedy
When the sun gives a look utterly lately
Then I ‘ve to hurried back to the unfinished memories
Where you’ve been there
Along with the raining of sweet sunshine