Rest

So deep in rest am I today,

And I think it won’t be enough.

I won’t wake up until it’s night,

Or a morning that I so hate.

 

Clever these people are, knowing where they would go,

And will move their bodies in hustle.

Messages will be pinged, appointments be made,

Places will they travel, quite a spectacular show.

 

Love, hatred, riches will be on display,

Their learnt lessons will be applied.

Will they lose or will they win,

Their day will answer all their queries.

 

Stepping out of a gloom and entering another,

It’ll be easy to forget which one was worst.

Juggling a lot each time will be the thing,

Till their days won’t be over.

 

I’ll watch them go, there they will be,

I’ll secure my wants for another life to come.

I’ll go once, a shot in the air,

Never to reach back, never to fear.

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Stay Home

Don’t you move, neither a bit,

It’s hot outside and it’ll hurt you bad.

So dear are you to me, chirping and eating together,

All life, all places, all eyes are you and me.

Pile up the stairs with poison,

On the floor should no concrete be left.

Hide all the blessings presbyter gave you,

Somewhere else should you be resting in peace.

That’s a moving car displaced in space,

Need not you care shall you be stationary.

Stay calm, silent and reverb in the past,

That’s what will drive you from all your misery.

They call you free, close-ended motionless body,

Let them know you think what they don’t.

And let them be mad about what you do,

Because work alone won’t fix what you want to.

Care not you what seasons come,

Hilarious they are, some falling leaves, ice on a mountain.

What careers there are, people to fall for,

Some dreaded corner of the world, some disguised serenity.

I go and you stay home,

Should you obey what these walls tell you to do,

These pathways leading you to bedrooms are heaven’s,

Keep them enchanted and let no complain come.

The Good Thought

It’s a good place to be, a bed,

Cozy, safe, away from the world, closer to heart.

Leaving all the sense people make,

Leave it all on the pillow and blanket.

Pick up a screen and skim through places,

Pristine, supreme, rough or dry.

Oh! Wee-wee what’s she upto?
Another guy and another dress she’s draped in!

Look, hear and believe what they say,

Willing to continue as long are you.

Letting to lead you some pixels, some sound waves,

Coming from a device so dear to you.

Well, here it’s a cakewalk, easy and calm,

Breathing before you die is necessary as it is.

Yet use it for what you please, your every right to be,

All that it is after all what you wanted to be!

Hours go by and the room becomes alive,

Littering some wise words when the silence takes the side.

When did this happen, why would you do,

Does that really mean a world to you?

Not less than a day has elapsed, your mind is hungry,

Tired and relieved at the same time, it needed to dream.

A day or two to get a few more hours,

We’ll begin when there’s another new game lost.

I Wonder

What do you see in my eyes shining and sparkling,

Your hustling lore of fantasy, a myth?

Call me by my name, in your head juggling a piece,

Some lended work of art, splendid place to be.

Pick out a memory making you hurt your back,

And push it closer to me, flowing like an accusation.

Can’t you go ahead with all your fear to a sleep,

Thinking you don’t understand what are you upto?

Standing you are, saying a lot but listening none,

All the world see, it might be something like love.

Your feet held up at work with no movement,

Not coming for me, are you?

I wonder if I be here, where I might be,

Coming for you or just letting you go …

Colossal

I hear not the whisper, my memory making me wince,
Of those few words, moments long lost in wilderness.

Straight, cloudy, road and sky,

I tear my heaven to know if it’s you.

Your shine, paused with ample happiness,

I fear my eye, fate if I come see you.

 

I paint back from past, things, chats,

New like a pinch of fairy on my cheeks.

I fly out of my mind, towards you,

Off where you begin, the world ends.

 

I hear not the whisper, my memory making me wince,

Of those few words, moments long lost in wilderness.

I wish not to bring it back, but bear fruit for today,

Whose seeds time sown years before this today.

 

I’m now out in open, dark land,

Easy it seems, looking at sunlight, you.

Overfilling my pain, your happiness,

Your hopping body and motionless time.

 

Seeing you if I can make it possible,

I’ll get wind of this crawler, me.

I lift my spirits not in pray, but in convention,

I’ll look for me and then I look for you.

Walk of Life

A little about the walk of life will be told,

The scent of which is inherent in all,

Wherever will be the sound of the music,

You will paddle through waves like a moment ago.

 

Well touched and written about it are books,

Often what seen and felt is never forgotten,

And set inside the travelling heart of all,

Are values, gifts and laughs all round the horizon.

 

One peels off the bad lucrative chin of thoughts,

Lands in the dustbin of forgotten memories,

There where no side is taken, none borrowed,

Lies the sight of God in its full glimmer.

 

Look back don’t you, pass over the present,

Like a clean, shiny mirror speaking nothing but truth,

That one won’t die without a word in the mind,

Of chances there aren’t to forget their’s.

 

So drunken in silence I’m today, out loud my ears heard,

I can’t let go off my veil before the shine of tomorrow,

I rest calm on my bed journeying around the world,

So damn is the challenge, takes nothing but me after all.

 

To the walk of life, I stay stiff still sleeping in the noon,

Watching and crying over elasped moons,

To the age of wisdom, bold and powerful,

I arrest my attitude, laid back and laggard.

To where I scrupled before attending a thought,

So bleak in diffusion and slow to arrange,

Wild ideas, opinions and life of mine’s,

But here in stays slowly to create a sense of change!

Making Me Small

Wondering down the memory lane,

With my both eyes blinking in awe,

I send some sharp sickles to the past,

Trying to look after the young age, of course.

 

It’s evening it seems like looking out of the window,

When will my heart open to know what there is outside?

And if I know better than what I know now,

Will it ever seem to make a difference?

 

Hitting the road hard with constant thump of foot,

I recall myself making my weight large.

While I sneak as soft as I could in those eyes,

Those small shades of truth make me feel hollow.

And then I take alarm of a chance,

That once taken will never be repeated,

But then of course, lies and deceit is all that I do,

And make sure it doesn’t make sense at all!

 

I appear in the light of today,

Glistening by the charm of my words,

I bend before my virtue as I do,

Not make a chaos towards a different truth.

 

With little mind of mine wailing to see a tomorrow,

Calling it a day where future is foreseen,

Thanks if I don’t pay attention,

To the offer of the world of making me small.