O my soul
O my strained soul, long have I dreamt about Seeing you fly joyously; high above the cloud. Long have I known your gravity-defying nature With an inherent longing to fly to your creator. Long have you moved like a crawling reptile Collecting dust, grime and shame in the exile. O my squatting soul, long have I seen a shame In your eyes; loaded with heaps of self blame. Long did I try to freeze my dragons for your joy, To set you free, from the heavy fetters, to enjoy. Long have I invoked you to glide like a bird Away from the green grazing of this goat herd; Look straight into the eyes of a noontide sun, With your winged feet; and go for a higher run. Enough of this squatting, cringing and crawling, Rise and dust off your wings for an inner calling. (2013) (Gushing Fountain-USA) A paint shop
A local meeting point, Like a coffee shop, near A bridge, where he sat Behind a counter, with shoulders of an ox, selling His dreams, his colours. Like a lighthouse, in our youth, for watching College girls, and political fireworks. An address for our letters, For meeting our friends, For colouring our paradigms. Like an Epicurean Garden To discuss our ideals, cricket, Movies, and music; To sketch rainbows, With the hands of time, On our Tabula Rasa. (for Majid Toth) |
PoemsThese poems have been previously published in various literary journals, magazines, books and anthologies around the globe including the UK, the USA, Ireland and Canada.
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