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poems

The donkey need some help

There was a donkey
sitting on the snow;
his ass all cold,
and the motions slow;
his eyes all lost
between yes and no;
and the face perched
on the neck bent low.

When I looked at him
did I see myself?
My mama told me once
the donkey need some help.

The donkey didn’t move
So I thought I’d go.
I went to the donkey
and said ‘Hey Ho!’
The donkey looked at me
with a raised eye-brow.
I smiled at him
and slipped on the snow.

When he looked at me
did he see himself?
My mama told me once
the donkey need some help.

Categories
poems

The writer wrote

I write
mostly because
like everyone of you
I want the world to know
about me
and the things that I do.

You read me however
not because you want to know
about me
or the kind of things
that I do.

You read me because
you see yourself
in parts of me
because you see yourself
doing things that I do.

You read me because
you wish you were
like parts of me
because you wish you could do
the things that I do.

Categories
poems senseless

Through the red

He was passing

through a storm

or red dust.

He couldn’t see much;

his speed cut short.

He didn’t stop.

Through the red,

he crawled,

with closed eyes

but open heart.

And one day

when red gave way

to white,

to the truth,

he stood

like a winner

with a soul

that shined

of freedom

and smelled

of God.

Categories
poems snaps

Hum karein hain kapde saaf

Khapach khapach, ghasak ghasak,

hum karein hai kapde saaf.


Paani se utha ke phen,

aur haathon se uda ke jhaag,

Khapach khapach, ghasak ghasak.

hum karein hai kapde saaf.


Chamkaayein ujle bushirt ko

aur pant se nikalein daag.

Khapach khapach, ghasak ghasak,

hum karein hain kapde saaf.


Utha patak ke, brush ghis ghis ke,

faulad bana hai haath.

Khapach khapach, ghasak ghasak

hum karein hai kapde saaf.

Enough.

I got mumma a washing machine. 🙂

Categories
poems

Vo Peeli Patti (that yellow leaf)

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poems

On TV, books and my ONO girl

Raju Srivastav is as funny as ever. Did you guys see him do the Laloo-ban-gaya-Superman thingy? It’s so LOL max guys, it’s so friggin lol-max. Sushmita Sen’s face is more chubbier than it ever was. Airtel shamelessly copies Vodafone’s ad (except a minor replacement of bro-sis pair with a couple). The good thing is that both ads are good; make you smile. For strange reasons News channel discuss Saif and Kareena as a couple. Ah, so I have started watching TV.

I still don’t know which show comes on what channel, nor do I have any idea bout when comes what show. But yes, it’s not all that painful anymore, as it used to be some time back, to sit on the couch and stare at the idiot-box, as long as there are others around or as long as I have my laptop to play with.

TV isn’t the only thing by the way. Thanks  to Dk (colleague), I have a book to read too. An autobiography. Mr. Nice. Nice. So was SIK. Good entertainment. I laughed a lot. It was a nonsense movie nevertheless.

There was a time when I used to write sweet and cute poems. Then there came a time when I started writing sick and depressing poems. It’s been long since I wrote a poem. This one is for my ONO girl.

Hey Hi ONO girl, temme how you are.
Hey Hi ONO girl, you are so so far.
We chat and we talk, we say Hi and say ONO.
My sweet ONO girl, bus ab mil ek baar.

I don’t talk about the ‘sparks’ anymore.
I act very normal, oh I am so sure.
But from deep within, haven’t you ever sensed
that I feel something, I never felt before?

Hey hi ONO girl, you are so so far!
My Santa Clause, oh yes you are.
Bring me gifts, bring me love, in December
It’s late, I should crash, ONO sarkaar!

Categories
poems

I might find it again

Love.

When it happens the first time,

it’s a word that depicts something

which happens only once.

Love.

When it happens again,

it’s meaning has changed.

And then, there comes a time

when you fail to see any meaning;

none at all.

Love.

Yes, it had a meaning

and I might find it again.

Categories
poems

Triolets

Now, those who thought I could write only sentimental, psychedelic, heart-broken, love-soaked, fueled-by-lonely-nights poems, might like to change their opinion after reading the three triolets that I have to offer today, clubbed aptly in the category of the good, the bad and the ugly.

The Good

Mummy, I will return.
But let me leave now.
Of course I’m your only son.
But let me leave now.
I should step out and learn.
I beg you, please allow.
Mummy, I will return.
But let me leave now.

The Bad

Yes, I killed your cat;
never liked it anyway.
It was ugly, it was fat.
Yes, I killed your cat.
Why did it enter my flat?
Thought it could get away?
Yes, I killed your cat;
never liked it anyway.

The Ugly

I am horny, I need sex.
Hell, where is she?
I so much miss my ex.
I am horny, I need sex.
My bedroom in the duplex
It’s just so empty.
I am horny, I need sex.
Hell, where is she?

PS: I was encouraged to compose these by Ammani. You could write few too. It’s fun. And, no, there is no rule which says you HAVE to write three at a time. That was just a little extra from my side. 🙂

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poems

Three days and three nights

After a tiring journey, you reached here
only to find that your son wasn’t near.

I’m sure you must have felt bad.
And oh I know, what I did was sad.

We spent time, going here and there.
I was too silent, you were soon aware.

‘Is everything fine?’ you asked in vain.
I never opened up, I hid my pain.

I wish I were able to, open my heart
and explain to you, my life’s sad part.

Now that you are gone, away once more,
I miss your love, the only love that’s pure.

PS: Parents left Chennai today after having spent three days and three nights at IIT

Categories
poems

In the wind, I fly

The floating wind
brushes the skin.
The floating wind,
it lies within.

I shake and I shiver;
feel it everywhere.
I dream and I wonder.
I float in the air.

It feels perfect,
could be a dream.
The floating wind.
In the wind, I gleam.

The wind smiles,
waves me a hi.
The floating wind.
In the wind, I fly.