PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Living in a different 
reality. You wanted to confuse 
the honeybees. They were dying in large 
numbers. There was frantic search 
for the skullcaps. Power 
of the crowd was on display. 
The stingers were on prowl. 

Again the mountain 
slips. The terrain becomes pathless, 
placeless. So where to sit with a mirror? 
A tulip garden has arrived 
for inquisition. Are you ready 
to surrender your cloaks? The 
public servants will make an inventory. 

The day dreaming does not stop. 
I wait. The best is yet to come.

The shallow incursions 
grow louder. I have 
burnt my fingers, lighting 
the moon. 

The future of currency 
was changing hands. You 
start bargaining for- 
the water, the air. 

Armageddon: will it take 
place in the modern times? 
Where are the titans 
and the hill? 

It slows the search for 
the truth. The mudslide was 
rising and the buried will 
not speak, at peace with themselves.

Annihilating your 
own minarets to meet 
the god once. 

Little time left to make the score. 

The climbdown has started 
absolute and final. 

The methane was 
spilling out.You need a matchstick. 

Awful.You cannot see 
the kitchen fire.Where was 
the sanctity? 

A noble cause.Dousing 
the flames, to leave a naked 
body of truth. 

Don't split the hearts.Only 
give the shrouds.Faces 
must not be seen

I had met the flower 
after a longtime. 
The rose. 

And its fragrance 
hauls me to childhood 
after the big dying. 

A tender, scented dream 
will touch me, 
to become a poet. 

Lying on dewed grass 
you think, a promiscuous 
microbial libido begins. 

The explosion will eject 
free verses, waiting in silence-
to witness- the April fall.

The sleep was disturbed. 
A book reads me. 
The thinker will not rest in the arms 
of Morpheus. 

There is no road. You will 
walk in the kitchen for the last supper. 

A scream in the throat 
dies. I have no soul. The night 
looms large. I will not surrender 
my pen. 

Unquenchable thirst 
was me. My head in a spin, 
I go beyond the words, 
to find the clapping hands.

Let me paint a still life.Like 
your eyes- unmoving.The irises 
with shut pupils. 

Why I should be green- 
I ask my old mentor? 

The terror of a smile 
wipes away the tail of dust, with comets. 

And the pachyderm remains 
buried in the sands of time. 

Touching the margins was gone. 
You cannot leap over the grass of antiquity. 

In fog twin hills will move away 
without any acrimony. 

A denial becomes a stake 
a part of the golden ring- the boundary mark.

Abuzz with profanities. 
There were gene faults in your 
conversation; when the 
ice cap was melting. 

It should not have happened. The 
sea was creeping in my veins. 
I will hold back the floods 
with my weak hands and strong roots. 

The shifting sands and deep 
flaws in melanoma distribution, 
makes you caste away. The ultimate 
lullaby will find death at the door. 

Let me commute my frequency 
into zero. The worst was yet to 
come. I will have no fingers left to 
lift your name.

Zinnias were stalking. 
The fading moon hangs upside down 
from the massive Ficus tree. 

Ultimately the grace withdraws. 
Now you sit under the bo-tree 
becoming a wet Buddha. 

Unthinking, unblinking 
falling out of thoughts, 
and start supervising the barren landscape. 

The dawn sets free, the white 
pegions to become prey of ravens. 
Would you talk about peace? 

The evil touches every next door. 
I will write a long letter 
to me, to unwrite the sermons.

Something exciting 
was to happen.You 
call for an assayer. 

Morality has failed, 
running after the 
false values of untruths. 

Pure virginity. 
I won't touch you again 
for the sake of god. 

Crossing the threshold 
like walking on burning coals 
to test the bonding. 

The mankind was 
always cannibalistic. 
You devour the body without blood.