Life is possibilities
let me not pursue the improbabilities

I could
but would not
my choice I made
then on that spot

certain words
I would have said
I turned away
my voice I forbade

kinder I could have been
generosity I did lack
the encounter is lost forever
time I can't turn back

yet I still know not
was I right or wrong--and why?
life is not pure science
straight answers it does deny.

I aspire not
to be the bright star
it would be too pervasive
and watched by the world entire-
I would no longer be
my own but an ornament
courting displeasure
and arousing discontentment.

How I prefer just to be
a blade of grass hidden
from common view
unknown and never be spoken
of-- just among my peers
welcoming every drop of the early dew
blessed by the rays of the sun
with each dawn I myself renew.

How sad and despondent is the world
joys, wonder and beauty are espoused by so few
the striving, the craving and the in-fighting
to the path of happiness too many have no clue-
where's the splendour of living and loving?
from doom and gloom do we know how to eschew?
do we choose to shut out the world from our desolate room
or to sing and dance beneath the sky benign and blue?

Others I can't follow
wherever they go
though they claim
the right direction they do know--

I'll stay where I am
let them chase their rainbow
my little boat is old but reliable
on my own I'll gently row.

Give me the epigram
NOT the Instagram!

If I have my way
  I won't be a writer
  or poet---rather
choose humour

  and this further
  I'd earnestly say
  if I have laughter
  it would always be my day!

They said to me
'remember'
I chose to forget
I didn't suffer-

they said to me
'forget'
I chose to remember
I had no reason to regret.

It makes no difference
whether it's hard or easy
I'll choose in preference
that which makes me happy.

I can't go
your way
mine I'll choose
this is all I know-

where it will lead
I can't predict
yet to my faith
I'll tenaciously keep

we are each our own
in heart and spirit
free to discover and explore
such, destiny cannot beat

People want to be 'something'
all I want is to be 'nothing'.

Forget:
you'll not regret
remember:
you'll be sad-

if tightly
you hold
it's very hard
to let go-

that which is heavy
is hard to bear
that which is light
makes easy wear-

will it be
this or that?
who knows
what you'd get?

They said:
' Die for love!'
this I say:
' I'll live for love!'

Like, admire
adore or love
choose as you may
from the said above--

whatever you desire
I'm here to serve
love I can't demand
I'll receive only what I deserve.

Happiness is not a word
I'm fond of
my music has tears
for those who have heard-

I'm lonely and unwell
life is but a veil of sorrow
so heavy does it hover
upon me-- wherever I go-

I compose best at night
when the day's harshness no longer does burn
a mysterious force guides my hand
the outcome is my every weeping nocturne-

longing, dreaming, melancholy
are found in my every note
I care not for the light of day
only for longer  hours of night I hope

Why wait for Christmas
to do the gifting?
it should be every day
every hour to be giving.

It's the greatest mystery
  this ubiquitous circularity

We need an Age of Innocence
    civilisation is in moral collapse:
    men are against their fellowmen
    kindness and humanity are at their lowest ebb --

   we the ordinary folk have no say
   all we desire is happiness and peace
   all that's before us is the untold agony
   and tears-- our hopes fall away piece by piece-

   who will save us from the apocalypse ?
   How will mend the hearts in brokenness ?
   Will our prayers be heard and answered?
   When will we return to grace and blessedness?

   We need--urgently- an Age of Innocence
   how we weep over the tragedy before us!
   When will light appear in our direst hour
   of need, to dispel this unbearable darkness?

Modern society is afflicted with TMI (too much information),  truth and sense are missing.  Civilisation is dying a little every day and is on the brink of insanity and inanity.

Are we better in the face of science and technology?

I can't claim
the sun shines only for me
nor the stars and moon
in all their splendour and beauty

But what would I
really be
if I don't have the courage
to ask: 'Would you love me?'

Claptrap
it would be wise
to give its face
a tight slap!

Some might find you absurd
but don't run away or be afraid-
towards your goal bravely forge
victory shall be your lot

the world's envy and malice
set such aside, gladly miss-
stand tall, above them all
that shall be your life's greatest call

I close my eyes

so clearly I see

what is in sight

is not reality

What has to be said
need not too contrived be
speak has your heart bids
that's enough clarity

Upper class
middle class
low class

measured
by wealth
inheritance
education?

I'm a humanist
hence
humanity is my class

no distinction
do I trust

It's most worrying

when words begin

to betray or distort

the mind's intended meaning

The moment cracks
in cleavage-- nothing
anymore seems to be the same
only the regretting and aching

the rock once impermeable
is in ravage-- weather-beaten
the last rose falls in late winter
the change of season has spoken

the sea has lost its vibrant voice
by its own waves neglected and forgotten
the night hides away in furtive silence
the heart of love has broken

the past belongs to me no longer
into the nowhere of time I have been driven
beauty asserts at my darkest hour
in vengeance: 'you have not been forgiven!'

It's the cliche
of the dawn
every poet praises-
'a new beginning'

not for me
the tiresome repeating

give me then

the sad languishing
of a mellow sunset
the day put to rest
its chagrin and fret

give me only
the heart in calm accepting

people are loathed
to denying
their love for craving
amidst
busy hours rushing
through their veins
and their entire being
the perennial pursuing
'what's there for me?
am I not-deserving?'

evening shadows
they lengthen
me into such
they are drawing
my very motives
they are questioning

but

I am not answering
as the truth is:
life the enigma
is beyond my knowing

like past years before
the wonder and awe
(to me ) of living
but lies in the Zen-ness
of not thinking
which is the cause
of human agonising

hush!
a tiny star
is appearing

is it listening?

Wordless
I am
the moment
in embracing
is worth
my very dying

Cliches we all are
but most don't know by far

I feel
therefore I am
I think
to doubt I succumb

feel first
the heart is calm
in clarity
is found the desired outcome.

Intelligence

is fearful of intuition

I went in hurried search
of the colour of my heart
and it replied, not in good mirth:
'none--
for what worthy things
have you done?'
no other words
did it bother to impart.

I'll be the least upset
if the reader were to interject:
how bland your poems are
tasteless, colourless, abject!

Ah, where's my imagination fled?
are the flowers in my heart 's garden dead?
how would I fresh seeds cultivate?
would any poem of mine be worthy to celebrate?

What's the colour of your life?
   an immediate answer it's hard to find
   let me speak without hesitation or strife
   I am colour-blind!

Colours,  such wonders
they speak-- listen, do listen well
each offers itself in unabashed nakedness
hear, oh hear what tales they tell-

yet, their voices, so tender
(they seek not to impress)---so demure
how they sink into your depths
your inner eye wakes to explore

your own life, the present and past
for you have chosen one of your own
what you are and the love you feel
is a colour---unknown to others, only to you alone--

a thought, a feeling, a joy or sorrow
is coated in colour and from the spectrum
one arises to console your heart or your hand to hold
what is the colour that dwells in your sanctum?

A thought is a colour, so I deem
in my dream so many colours
it does assume--ah, paucity of neuro-science-
it labours and struggles in shadows!

but my love is well beyond
words, thoughts and borders
ten million rainbows pale in comparison
with its infinite beauty and wonders.

Colours are the emotions of the heart

blue depicts a sense of melancholy

a sigh from a world far apart

in their desolation and misery-



ah, will love come to deliver me?

my loneliness seems an eternity

though abandoned without pity

I am still haunted by her strange beauty

Comedy sternly spoke to me:
' don't you count my words as hilarious
  if I turn to a different direction--be ready-
  I could be deadly serious!'

Come to me, not in my days of prosperity
but knock at my door when I am in poverty.

I have returned to myself
this natural home of mine
which I left in ignorance and folly
and having then  lost my sunshine

now as I look around
my mind-scape one again
is  a lush green field and a rosy garden-
ah,  the coming-home, the end of my pain!

How I do dread
to be ever remembered-

let me be alone
my dream to own-

among you all I was before
all said and done--I wished for nothing more-

there was joy and laughter
then in our being together-

the day's light is fading
it's the time for resting-

life has been lived--now the fare-welling
I am blessed as I'll step into days unending

.....the sanctuary
     where the self is set free
     and all that which abides in tranquillity
    is pure joy and beauty

Looking only at the cover
and not the contents--
how could you discover?

People don't want
       to be regarded 'common'
       to themselves they say:
       for bigger things I am born!

..but people are their own
  you will always be alone

Everyone wants to enter
         but the host doesn't bother

Count me in-
         the theme everywhere
         (apply the smartest scheme)
         morals---who does really care?

By all means---it's a public park-
    any flower don't hesitate to pluck.

To oneself:
        my trump card I'll hide
        (not everyone is trustworthy)
        I will never be taken for a ride!

Of others' words I quickly tire
mine are hardly enough--they are full of treasure!

You are right, boss
  I am wrong I admit
  (there will be no salary loss
   this should be every employee's wit!)