Tag Archives: love

silent scream…



how you resolve words

how you resolve the words

you’ll use in crude expression


how will you edit

what you must scream

how you’ll hold

and go for aftermath


what lies in editing

what lies in hiding

what lies in politics

what lies in polishing

what lies in refining


when you look in those eyes

submissive eyes

why you turned around

and gave the same cornered eyes

to someone else around


what lies in photo finish

of the reality around

what lies in loving each time truely

and being rational


what lies in your behind

and the present you present

what lies when you are taller

and you look down


just going round and round

its not a judgement

it sounds nice…round

now since i don’t have answers

must use metaphors

sun, rivers, life, damn


why i can not say

will never say

the utmost, most crude

immediate thought

please remove my teeth



curves in my straight forward


i can not talk about sunnyness of sun

and the taste of sweat

the nullness of void

weight of heart

i can not tell how it felt

when i met singular people

with plural places…in their heart

its unexplainable

elaboration is what they do

talk about so many…with a sense of humour

and i felt…something is there

underneath that heart

a toppling buzz…head aches

without headache

heart sours…without exactly, love

eyes shine…no target

something far they see, people

and their minute silly interests

so funny, and i fell in love

landscape of my life

is not in minutest, how path curves

and where leaves shed

things reveal slowly, with movement

elements discovered


my life is not curved

i don’t talk in smaller beautiful, nostalgic worlds

revealing in the path of curve…

but seems they are the content…of the people

and richness…introvert

and i do things straight forward

but love…seeing laugh in the world

twisted stories, and fabricated perception

worried look, and stealing themselves

unfocused eyes, huddling themselves

asking silly questions

involved in themselves

i miss it, being introvert…

involved and tender

as i am being straight forward

people, introvert

self bounding curl…

small beginnings, larger voids

they play in it…talk in it…and enrich

when they confess the inside play

to whole world…

i miss it…in my straight farwards

hence include people as much i can

accepting the rare invitation

just taking care of  thing

its the people i care…hence

richness served…in the straight farward…

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i’ll die today

may be tomorrow…

just hoping i must not

outlast you…

but how would i explain

to save the sorrow…

my not being will cause

to you

i know…

but i know…my dear loved ones

i’ll try hard not to succumb to fates

and will repeat as you say mother

god stood beside me…somehow…

all my motivations are directed to you

and still being far…is the price…

but i must not touch the butterfly i adore

or it stops flying…

love is like that…


Love is like that

Its when you fall

In dark

And leave yourself

Somewhere aside


Love resides

Beneath the footsteps of a visitor

It comes with 

And never goes back

you keep hearing

That rustling inside


Love resides

Beneath your couch

It comes as dust

With wind blowing


And we sweep it

But whenever you see next day

Its beneath your couch


Love is found in dark

our eyes struggle to see

light a candle

It makes a circle

Complimenting the twinkle



love is failure


and lost

love is for losers

enjoy the free fall…


don’t try too hard…



Those hands on that rough surface

Feeling its colours and tasting it

They had a relation unnamed toldskin


They talked to each other, stories never


Like cinema, skins met and rustled

Stories discovered

Of old…

But it’s a prairie I thought, just

Some furniture.

But now those hands don’t rustle

It seems I am scared,

Of loyalty of those furniture.

So many imagined, staring me at each corner

Lowered the eyes and walked around.

It’s painful to see so loyal living, imagined, real

So many furniture…

absent inscriptions…


absenceMy insecurities
and their reflections
on others
extension of not expressing
and then finding insecurity in others

looking for pain
as crumples on straightened paper
or traces of hidden pencil marks
and then misreading them

as my expressions
and feeling relieved for a moment
as I disassociated my pain in another form
of me,
dealing with others
and finding answers for its own sake

now these traces are free
flying in the air, and the paper
is boasting its virginity
looking for finest words, which leave no traces
no backyard with presence

and insecurities, have learnt
to fly, to be invisible
they are free, as absence.

Hoping, someday they both will meet
just telling stories
and then may be
absence will be present