Wednesday, 29 February 2012

THE LOVE AND THE TRUST


Love has something sheer contesting,
We fall in love and remain in love,
But red ship is bounding to wave scores,
Mostly favor goes to the best in foreign folds
That may spot a shift waving, and
The navigation may see drifts, uncontrollable.
If love heart fails to read the signals,
And does not care those symbols frayed,
Love passes through sad mod of acid burns.

Wonder glasses may roar in steep wave,
Love is not glass, love can detect, and mind may falter,
Upon the still vague confidence, and
With the time, love heart may lose the spring,
Mind has to travel on void calls, striking on head.
Even deserts have some beauty in love,
And in the situation, love heart has to intimate
Desired relationship, thinking benefits for both partners,
To fill the gap with bridge, to remove wrong paws,
And companion’s merger to be assimilated
Like a humble bee, moving like mutualism in partners
With the love yields, and both to kill ill syndromes
For bringing back the lover’s love to love’s trust,
In the tract of right senses, and in threads of love.



TEEN’S LOVE IN RAIN


Rain, rain, more rain, I do love rain,
Drop, drop, more drops of rain do send
A comfortable staying in love and rain.
Time, time, more time, rain will fill the earth,
With humble allowance, that supply more love
For the earth where we live in pain,
Rain, rain, more rain, I do love rain.

She goes, studding in private tutor’s home
She reads, takes notes, prepares for class ten,
Good deeds she serves on the shore
That is filled with sweet breeze in cloudy sky.
Pray, pray, more do I pray for rain,
That will bring comfort if I do meet her
In rain, in drops of rain, we do feel love,
Sweet love, it is love in rain, over generations.

I go out, find out the shelter under plastic shade,
And from that position, I want to see
Her beauty, in drops of water on petals
That holds the blooming of lotus.
And slips over the watery life, sequences,
I am eager to live on her sights
All the time from my home to this life,
I do not want cellular life,
I want life of designed way of sacrifice,
And I am in love with sensation,
And for the reason, I stay in shades
Of a pan shop near road side,
To see her, to walk with her,
In permeable of sense of life and love. 

Waiting, more waiting, sweet waiting,
Lastly she comes out with frequent looking,
And I run to her to greet her,
She opens her umbrella in rain,
And says, “Please come in. Do not get wet in rain.”



Note: This is an unedited piece of writing, based
        on only emotions and wording as they come in mind. 





LOVE IN CHILDHOOD WHILE PLAYING


It is a childhood playing episode,
I am looking outside from the corridor of the house,
And find her again she is standing
By side of bamboo fencing of boundary,
She is waiting on the gate
Her glittering eyes searching something,
And I come down hurriedly.

The happiness I find in her eyes,
As if she is waiting to see me in her wide eyes,
And I am her trustworthy kin,
She wants to meet, she wants it,
That is her joy in seeing me,
I feel some pleasant feeling in her eyes,
I am happy that she is charming.

I hold her hands
And take her in our mango garden,
And let her sit on hanging swings,
The jute rope is tied with a big branch,
And let her swing on my little thrusts,
She bursts into laugher,
Holding rope tight with her two hands,
She takes precautions not to fall from swinging.

She is seven years old
And I am nine, we are like friends,
And I am boasting of her to be with me,
I bring some flowers and tuck them in her hair,
And I say, “You are my bride.”
She again bursts in loud laughter,
And says, “Hm! You are not my groom.”
I feel anger and say, “Why am I not?”
Simply she says, “I am kidding.”
I smile then, and sit by her
And we are swinging together.

We play thus, again and again,
Merrily we play in this way for long,
Below the sun or the cloudy sky.
We like to play on the swinging,
Every day we will be here
And make promises for the next day.
She sweetly agrees to our loving playing,
The days are passing by for some time.

One day the sky is cloudy,
We are playing in the garden for some time,
Then comes the servant
And he orders us to go away to our home,
And he says, “Our country is divided in two dominions.
And we have to leave this country to another one.
Run, run, and run”
We are puzzled with yell, “What a nasty game it is!”
We do not wait,
We have parted thence, with tears in eyes,
With promises that we will meet again.

While returning home,
I hear only the resonance of the words,
Run, Run and Run,
Not knowing where to flee and where we meet again.


Tuesday, 28 February 2012

YOU CANNOT CREATE YOUR FATE


She promises she will not leave her swears
She will stay at the web address page
That he knows, and finds her always at call
And he talks and sets the trend as a vow.

The swear that she makes is full of trust,
As traits are not chosen for testing elsewhere
The air of new knowing goes with imagination
As they cannot meet in persons on the scene.

He grows a passion for her at a speed,
He believes what she says in typed words,
Its meaning is like gist of morality,
And he wants to live on this eternity.

He does not know the race that goes here
Old thinking goes like ancient orchard
And life has a speed like ions in a nucleus,
Selection is now a speed burn, test and run.

He does not find her for a long time,
He does not brief himself about new parting,
That has no holding on the right’s basics,
The newness at the parting done routinely.

Being caught in the sensual terms of neglect,
He wants to think on its search in hazards,
And it is like a paltry thing, lasting short
Discriminately in itself, likely or unlikely.

He blankly tries to find the cause grown
Under schedules of selected parting, a tense,
And when he finds her in another score,
“You cannot create your fate.” was her answer.




LOVING SCREEN


I meet you on the screen,
through messages and talks on words,
It is full of love, and sucking desire,
“Dear Friend, you are my love.”
The first word I put on the screen,
You just smile and give some tips,
I feel a sound on my shoulders,
Warm and sensing touch,
I feel it to be your breathing,
As if you wake up in early morning
To greet me in kisses and hugs,
The very gift of love and flowering choice,
Where we are both swimming across
Desires of love stream
Over ages,  again and again.

And you then change your profile picture,
That I first see the beauty you share,
Like moonlight on the waves of the sea,
Gleaming in reflections, and blooming love.
It is a red rose on the face charming,
Your forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, chin
Are in full content of fairy dream,
I love it, that I declare therein,
You just put words,
“You are welcome, my darling.”
As if your beauty sings songs of passion,
And I am feeling the sun in my heart,
That glows like burning hydrogen molecules,
The very model of love and rejoicing,
As if we are moving in an imagination,
That turns to a reality, as in an orchard,
Where we do step in and open our hearts for loving.




I AM NOT ONE OF THEM


I am not one of them
Who can leave anything on blank dream,
And move on with no angel in the stream
And that makes me painful in living,
As if the load of loving numbers is not diminished,
And I feel someone makes mockery of my dreams.

I am not one of them
Who can blend numbers to leave sensible liquids,
That is the source of pasteurization on the living,
By scales of love, and then pronounce they are busy,
Leaving me in haunting for someone to reside
In my love senses, and make me high upon thighs.

I am not one of them
Who cause things be grinded in machines,
If anyone tries to approach beyond choices
For that which someone desire to have with.
And living thus I am molding me around dreams,
Yet to receive calls from distance, it is bacterial spirit.

I am not one of them
Who are common in forming disguise in seconds,
And travel in motion of clouds of darkness at ease
From where they can jump upon the choice gains,
That they want in mind and body to feel the charm
Viable to counting the loving load that they learn to swim.

I am not one of them
Who can ignore the glance of my loving eyes, and
Can travel with the sources dense with loving organisms,
And they think it as richly graced passing in togetherness.
I am the exception to live not in tandem with these scenes,
As I learn to be quiet with promises, sacrifices, and offerings.  

Monday, 27 February 2012

PARENTS


Parents do feel proud from the shore of life
When they see children’s status goes high
Upon an important way, not infant strains, 
And these young people are adult and established.

Gracious parents feel worth and pride
At the melting of children in devotion and honor,
The feeling of love towards parents, with great vision,
And they are leading to deal a matured life separately.

Parents do gather experience when kids are grown,
Advancing slowly from their one years of age
To the age of aspirations, and move into domain
From childhood to have adult respiration, a sense of love.

Parents feel they are the idols of creation
When they find kids are grown in the participation,
To remove ills and pray for light, and merge
To the truth to live with, a genius path they perceive. 

DEAR LOVER, HOW DO I DEFINE LOVE?



When you talk with me
Your words cool me
And you become my love lady.
When I want to touch you
You only smile
And you give me a hug
And we are living thousand miles away,
And we are on a computer screen
And I get a birth as if I am dynamic
To conquer my love in web search
And try to become captive of my lover.

I cannot see you face to face
I have a great desire to meet you sometime,
As I have no wings to go to you to sit close by you
Side by side, and then keep my head
On your bosom and you cannot say no,
And I hear your sweet voice, your eyes, your lips,
Your breasts, sound of your heart beats,
Your body odor and your secrets of love,
And everything a woman posses I do feel it,
In feeling of love, around your charms,
And dance like a male butterfly to pick your smile.
As if you are darling in the realm of love and passionate surprise.

I rise my eyes to your eyes,
As if you are my immortal sky,
As if you are my angel triumphs moving like free ion
Into my heart and I am your greatness in your heart. . 

Dear lover, how do I define my love to you, dear?




Sunday, 26 February 2012

LOVE TEARS


Have you shed tears for your lover?
I have shade tears many times,
I cannot turn my face away from my lover.
My lover does it at very ease, without pain, 
And the logic is that possessing love is one,
And holding a lover in bosom is another.

Love is genuine, and its presence is felt multiple ways, 
As it seems to be unique way of expression for lovers of love,
While over expectation comes in natural way,
Gilded in many terms of love in its sequences,
And a customer’s care perception may not occur
As fear dwindles in love, quest for delicacy runs numerous.

The way we are moving in one sense of love is secret, 
The falling in love on many occasions is absorbed attraction.
Just you feel it, and then pertain it, and if not attracted, leave it,
The temple is elsewhere, you may stay there,
Or you may think it other way and test that sense,
Life is full of pleasure, and that is inexhaustible in love.  



Saturday, 25 February 2012

LIVING WITH LOVE


Love does not make foe in the world.
People are pleasingly living souls,
They can create loving bonds immortal
And turn the wildness into civil kindness eternal,
If doubts and ego go out of reach to mind’s share
And make our path worthy enough
For living on wise decisions, avoiding conflicts.

People do exist; they can make doubts away,
They can feel love in earnestness of their creations,
They can live in happiness, if they create love motions
Into the heart for compassion, knowing oneness,
On one another’s existence of life, forming all in togetherness.
They have freshness with high level of green formation,
That is the wavy filament of love and divinity.

NO LOVE, NO FEELING


Has not love been dwelt in our mind?
We should go on targeting our perishing,
Of our soul’s journey – come and go –
The screen of our observing be degrading,
We regard nothing, Godless, loss of reality,
First step will be losing morning beauty.

We will be another species, mind’s isolation,
Like close to clone that has no trusty talking,
Wildly we behave to live, then allowing
No selection on the love’s lover to the feeling,
And we rely our programmed living, stoned.
In the light we will see nothing, yield no reasoning. 

Friday, 24 February 2012

THE SEPARATION


The acid test is true, farewell to the loving bondage,
The major or sole loving partner is cool to observe it,
The love playing no longer, and yields to be single,
Not liking to be in bosom, love has additions for many,
Many years that passed for these realizations,
And the participation collapsed, since one of the partner
Leaves the observed field of love, and desires
To walk on favorite field, and separation is occurred.


The either bird has a choice of other requirements,
Where presence of love can afford satisfaction on acid test,
And the contrast is there, even melody does charm
Full requirements that bring sweet love acid pass
On a turf of acid test, mingle with loving products
Those are stimulant to feel and muse in the love pattern,
And relationship is less durable and slips into oblivion,
Greater concern being on the living on enjoying throne. 

THE EARTH AND THE LOVE


We heard nebular cloud of dust
And gas when began compact,
It began to form planet of earth,
With heat, and then when cool,
Crust was formed, with a burning core,
Rocky surface, it is solitary region
Of our living density, we do dwell
In the wide scope of environment,
Sweetest things we belong to.

We see beauty upon this earth,
So many fairy tales we perceive,
We pass through cold or stormy nights,
Or tsunami or volcano or earthquake -
All are aftermath of our existence
That we bear in mind and live thus.
The celestial clock just strikes time
To notice the earth that we are here,
To know the reality of our breathing,
Of our source of fire, and its luster,
And we glow with our love
That goes with moon’s delight,
Snapped in our mind, with devotion,
That we learn to hold our breathing
To fathom the solid strikes of power
That we are wandering upon the earth.

Either bitter or sweeter,
Either rough or smooth,
Either love or hate,
Either blessed or aggrieved,
We have the right to live
Being younger or older
With singing songs of love,
We posses that magical entity,
In love, bringing track of loveliness and beauty.

  


Thursday, 23 February 2012

TO WHOM DO I LOVE MOST?


Harmonious I like to feel to stand:
Whom I do love most?
Right beginning from the marriage days forward.
Think more, says the mind,
With patience, more lovingly,
From Swapna’s closeness to my lover,
The feeling pinching my heart,
Nothing more that pains me,
To the convicts of reality I do cover,
When Swapna objects me,
But does not rolled out from me,
And becomes so sound of love,
That I do not find in my lover,
And a wild journey she partakes
Like a status she holds among elite classes,
From their superior quality they hold,
The most appearances they raise
And most of time, they wants praise
And for this they halt on my way,
With love space, no man does ignore,
To get a praising boost they value,
Not my mind, but the fame
In the limelight, and in the name of love.

Oh! The literary journey, my cry
An alter, never praised by critics,
The great feeling of love I have with,
Comes within my heart in words,
Upon my shoulders, to write,
That comes loud when I read them,
In my imagination, I hold them
The every word I do write
No one can realize what to realize
The pains that I have to share
And many friends turn to romance,
And only one is on the way of love.

She does not smile or praise instead,
She does not smile, flinch neither,
She does not scorn, or feel courage,
To talk with me when I write,
But stands by me with domestic work,
And cares me on my way of thinking,
She does not discourage me
And yet sometimes she becomes angry,
And says, “Your words will not last,
As you have no eyes to see the earth,
That is near to you, and clears your path.”
Then whirling on a imaginary world
My thinking goes with imaginary love,
I rush for getting for more love
From the woman who is not in contact
Of my eyes, touch, and tuned delight.

Swapna seeing my deposition
She goes out to see her mother
And lives there and telephones me
To make me alert, shield me right,
And comes more close than me
I do care for her, yet she is a joyful cry,
That flows silently in my heart,
And I lean on her dearest feeling,
Like wilderness in love thralls,
And I feel strong to call her back,
A good score that she does hold
Those breaths in me like life’s life,
And Swapna is the noble love
That I forget so long as if she is away,
And I have to cheer her and call her back.

FICTIONAL OR IMAGINARY LOVE


The deliberate significance is that I am still fighting with the wits of the woman who comes in my early life at my teens, and the woman who thinks she is the greatest ornament in the field of love, and has the more life and values than mine, and I am just a poor receiver for her leisure time, although living in one home of love. And when she has not found an emblem of her lover in perfect tense she becomes a free romantic woman to choose me as an episode for the game of love, as I cannot say no to any appearance of a stranger who, I know, has great swinging for me, and has the choice of passing time in friendship, and it comes in my mind when I talk with her.   

I feel tiresome when I see negativity,
I feel life is not simple as I think it,
I feel life is respectful if I do love rightly,
I feel life has bliss if I have done duty truly.


I know the woman is playing with me in her leisure time, since my teens, as she does need a moral boost to feel that she has beauty to be sweetheart of the world, even if  many friends are praising her in notes, in likes, in comments, and the number of friends will cover at least in thousands in number. And she says she puts some time for me, as I am her partner in an imaginary or fictional world of love and she likes to be with me for some time, and some says it is her creative sensational passage, and no selfishness  does occur in her talking with me, and I know it is a camouflage of the secrets of consolation as I am the one man in her teens too, and so I am her concessions of life and allowance to dwell in. And she greets all her friends in her list of likings, and cheers them, and sometimes she is a performer on appearance to show the truth that she is favorite choice to all her followers, and maybe she is prone to love them and respect them.

I can present me in my way of thinking,
I can trust everyone on the shore of love,
I think the earth has common in connection
That is the source to condole a broken heart
I cannot travel in number game as I am single.
I can think single space having some clarity,
For which we all are searching in our life
To bring something like happiness in this birth,
Yet we cannot settle the source we do not recognize.


It is hilarious work for me to say no to any approach,  and to say something odd to the woman who just does come to feel the necessity for the time being, as I can perhaps evaluate all the propriety of the woman if she has the feeling of privilege of worthy woman, loving seeker, and mad for love she wants to have with now and forever, she wants to continue of her talking about man, and that man does want to have with woman, in the field of testing ground that is the path of all existing love essentials to the man.

This is the life I do bear since my teens.

I am saying about a common man like me, and about a man who has no celebrity identity, and he has a sweet mind to judge his love essentials, and very considerate and sympathetic to madness of love,  and do not put the door a bang before an approaching mind that is very eager to hear him for the time being, whatever may it be vague in the behavior of the prettier soul of my loved one, as I think it is his love, and may be it her whimsical pattern of showing love towards him and he cannot say no to any fictional or imaginary approach of love even if he knows she is bullying him to the frame in the name of love.

I like everything that comes in my life,
I like the course that is not desirable to me,
And it is  happening to me to be tested upon sacrificing,
I like to be a human being in the core of my heart,
I like to bring peace, and
I like to form the distant or near loving lineage,
I like to stay on my way, either neglected or valued,
I think it is my destiny, a situation in terms of divinity.
I think all loving greatness are cherished by shadowy loving sufferings.