Saturday, 31 March 2012


On the stage of performance,
She takes reality of love, incessant,
Meant for sacrifice, I noticed it,

And to form a life, on her wisdom
So as to make a sequence of
First recognition, and its celebration,

She receives nature's gentleness,
Arisen by touching of the tongue,
Hands are tiding deeper

In the recognition of
Sensual raining, laws of touching
Body, code of passion,

I allowed it to travel
Like drizzles upon layers
After body layers, in sensation.

Every realization moves first,
In three layers of love,
To feel her, to adore her.

To stimulate the fusion, an actor, 
In bold efforts of unspoken stir,
Closer, more closer in realm of touch.

The warmth I feel,
And I move deeper in love,
That marks my days, to hold me, as
Presumably gains of love. 

Friday, 30 March 2012


Love or hate is performing factor in terms of selection,
As if fortune or poverty persists side by side
As inner-side of social stratum, allover, to hold everyone. 
Heart is syllable for judgment to keep harmony in
Love that is the source of light to live with kindness.
And my woman friend says to me, “What is good?”
And my reply is, “Good is mind’s definable knowledge.”

Like creating antibody in body, hate takes
My love away and I roam inactively everywhere,
As if  eternal object creating non-eternal one, poverty takes
My love away, as searching for livelihood turns vital,
And coming out of poverty lets me move in harder layer. 
And this way shrugs off love that I feel now.
Now present age of web-page-love, I am blind here.

And now I am sitting in web page and say nothing,
To me, love is fortune teller, who predicts weights only,  
Love resembles to nonexistent things, I feel it,
To me, love is conqueror for affluent benefits only,  
Love is to me like irrelevant colors, resolving nothing,
And my soul has only one abode in forlorn supplement. 


She arrives like a torrent on the page,
She derives like a popping spring fest in the garden,
Twittering around on love and its motion,
It awakes me; the blue sky is her profile picture,
The more she sings, the more I press 'like' buttons,
The friends’ zone becomes 'likes', 'comments', 'sharing',

Of the silent movement of the page,
The new age fills my heart with loving sequences,
Those are terms we are accustomed to use
For the expression on our mirrored objects,
Upon the threshold we are like a sphere
Living on wings of messages, a deserved art.

Time passes on over the page, I am not in touch
To read the message for which I want to have it sure,
As time and water are creators of new cycles of eyes' matching,
And there is a gap in two pair of eyes, I feel, and waiting is waste,
Preludes are too much after the gap, yet no confirmation,
And I have to wait perhaps for another term of expression, here.


My mind goes in searching on web pages
For performance to own my findings all over,
The significance of journey is for a familiar voice,
That I used to hear now and then on every call,
Either through phone calls or messages,
Opt I do it to hear the sweet voice,
That may come on my ear to fill my heart,
Now I have tossed me to take a place on the wave.

More I do for the life that I prefer to love,
In the tender and lovely beauty that she bears,
And I like to react on every word she utters,
From zeal I share when she binds me
In loving, soothing mood, in raining charms,
Flowing through my senses for a surge,
Linking my desires with aim to be persistent with her,
Today I feel the loss, she is not my protector. 

Thursday, 29 March 2012


Like a candle an embrace burns in body warmth,
I wonder how it is sweet in the blissful desire,
With moisture of lips, eyes are ground of closer
Unto touching of skin reeled in seeking performer.

I wonder how fingers dream the pleasing touch,
In the light of eagerness, in the form of warmer mirth,
A kinder sequences to travel on body's charm,
Words are not words, all turn into whispers. 

Wednesday, 28 March 2012


She sometimes becomes ill,
She sometimes becomes filled with glee,
She sometimes leaves the social web site.

She returns with some messages,
She returns with some smiles,
She returns with some photos.

She tells us to share our works with her,
She tells her message is to be friendly with her,
She tells some pristine declarations.

She says, “I am not prophet, I am woman.”
She says more, the desert is not her like,
She says she is restless, and moving.

She feels pressure to blow like storm
She feels the sun in her limbs, the very thrust,
She feels the energy, the very space

She has to obey the rules of sea roar,
She has to obey the pattern of love,
She has to obey the storm’s new chants.

Glowing like symbol of love, the molecule,
That I love most to hold her like holding a tender mass,
That melts in my body, a curiosity of love.

One day I say, “I love you, a new way of life,
Thence she bursts into laughter and says,
“Think about wandering in dreams, prepare for sacrifice, like fire.”


Our heart a sublime form of thousand times
Deep in the celestial gains in our body and mind,
And it covers our life with blood vessels
And with walls it keeps us every feeling we touch,
And alone it is to give birth of our senses,
For blooming ,and overflows all we learn
Round all bubbles of earth and life’s charm,
And it gives us a selective and timely journey,
For the long and inheritance of the worldly score,
That is the source of life and majesty of breeding,
Over age, and we perceive all existences with it,
As we are born with heart inside body creation,
That we learn after the form of life is preparing
For the sacrifice to the earth we are grown up. 


You make a noiseless journey,
I mark it as a little glad brought in my heart,
It is a fact and fulfillment, yet I find a gap,
It is another feeling that you ask me many times,
I cannot answer; you say again, “I love you.”
It is important that surrounds all the time,
In my body, in my mind, in my dream, in my location,
It comes without a break, without a termination,
Here people do not understand what we are dealing …
A life? A partnership? A relationship?
And the distance is here to bar our meeting,
And I am not on the way the real things are,
And you also think you are not on way the real things are.

We sprung from a sound love, and
We are now idols of thought and imagination.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012


Today I hear a cry from distance,
She is crying in a blow entwined in love and in necessity,
And she is in need of something
that gives her a survival that brings tears,
And she pours some needs of the moment to live
While she is delivering her love in hoarse situation,
And she needs some money to hold a brief journey,
To see her partner, that she cannot afford from her source,
And she takes a break, with tears on her eyes,
She is liking a dimly gesture to live in solitude,
Her throat is soaked in conversation and expression,
The time is not ripe to have a meeting with her love,
A despair flows in her mind from the stillness of clouds. 


Spring morning, cool,
6 o’clock,
Soft sunrays outside,
All tall houses are bright,
Sounds of footsteps coming
One or two passers-by passing,
The road is calm,
Sweeping sound comes,
The housewife of neighboring house
Sweeps the mud corridor, with
Broom made with coconut leaf sticks.
No gap between work and the sunrise,
All are working on own way,
Sounds of cuckoo,
Wave of breeze from south,
Fills the house, cool,
And beneath the sky,
We are moving for life,
Love and symphony of reflections,
Mind, some feeling fills
The nostalgic, yet to work,
For the day, a great attainment,
The life and the love.



Sunday, 25 March 2012


She is living in plain form of life pattern,
She is living with lectures, seminars all the year,
As if she deals a life on the way that is single,
But she does it in living with some charms of
The beauty of studies, lectures, seminars, and
Simpler is her black and white choice of living,
And she is the disciple of Swami Vivekananda.

On telephone call, she answers in fluent expression
Of love and honor even if caller is younger or older,
And leads a life that is dedicated to her studies,
And for cool sense she is active all sorts of work,
And one day she was so simple to answer my phone call,
“I am the wife; I am the husband, because -
Now I am cooking, and I am wife; and when I study,
For a seminal lecture, and also at the time for taking
The very decision on my own, I am the great husband.
And I am happy to live a life like a single gem as woman”

So simple answer makes me pay her a respect. 


I am tagged to a beautiful poem,
And it contains a chain of poems
Written by a group of poets,
And there I find beauty of love
In women who are impulse of love
And aesthetic longing and full of knowledge,
The words put a good and lovely expression,
That contains pain, gladness, wellbeing, love,
Of women, in the turn of the earth’s abiding laws,
That we have to accept and moderate and honor,
For our existence and sovereign aspects,
And then I comment on the comment column,
“Women are beauty of the world, women are gentle
Like flowing of brook upon this world, women are
Tranquil and great promises for adoration with love,
I admire beauty of women. I love it.”

I find like button is pressed many times,
With one comment, “Thanks my dear friend.”

Saturday, 24 March 2012


In the night when I am taking rest in a web page,
In a search, I also looking around the world,
I find her sending me a “Hello.”
It gives me a pleasant moment on the shore,
As if I feel a peace from deadly loneliness,
And she is beautiful when she posted a photo in site,
And I began to say, “Lovely, Lovely, you are a lovely lady.”
She then just says on her wall
“Please be alert and otherwise you will fall.
I am not going anywhere and you can see me always.”
This gives me the peace that
First time I find a woman of beauty
Who wants to talk with me and wants
To know me on the distant path that
Starts today and gets light for coming days,
And my heart gets a lovely feeling
That is inside me and my heart does feel it, 
The romance in the beauty of lovely mind,
She is woman of essence, in my life,
And the sequences she portray, as if
I am waiting for her so long in this window,
And I will ask her name, and know her
At the innermost longing that may hold me
And then go outside of the land where we can sit
And take part smoothing down of love and life,
And I will take her as my own, and
She might take me as her own, and this feeling
Will lead us to stay in love for all the time to hold
Her to the brim of loving spells, and I swear
I will not hurt her while walking on the way of love,
And we will be good partners as I dream it,
And I will kiss her wet lips to feel warm,
And she touches me for loving gestures, 
And it is pleasant to think of her
And she will dwell with me exactly what I want,
And there is enough space on the earth
That can accommodate both of us
Under the great roof of the blue,
And keep us protected forever,
And the life will be peaceful, and lovable
As heavenly bliss will fall upon us.

And the life is another part I do like now
On the way of our liking in autumn feather of love.


She has one desire now to have a suitable love partner,
Who would love her, and take her as beloved woman,
No feeling of disregard or of complaining her,
Except the love that both of them do share at ease,
No need of much swearing, no need of much swing
In uncertainty of fear of losing something either.
She wants to have with her new partner,
And living together with attending, living with binding,
With delight and worldly pathway of strain-less silence,
Like silken art work on a great performance of love,
Having visualization, respect, performance and cooperation.

She has to travel a long way to find the security
From someone whom she has chosen, after the struggle
Of imagination, examination, and image carrying expression,
And she has to live on these creations alive
On the form of preparedness and participation,
And with these she has own choice of a man of love,
And these attempts finally give her a settlement in life.

Friday, 23 March 2012


She comes and gently talks with me. Her talks are nice, and all time she is very sharp in her words, it is her courtesy to pay respect, I like it, And she talks about her work, that is hosting of a new web site about The Loving Heart, And she replies all my talks with delay due to her focus on what she is doing. And on query, she just replies to me

-“When I love to do something, I get fully involved in it.”

She becomes curious to know the falls that may come on way of life for excellent performance, and wants to tell about soul and contrive For composing on own share of love and life, And she has her man, far away from her country, as her friendship has come from a social web site. And she finds her beloved one in examining him on the personality art he shows with vigor and she feels great to the quality she deserves for his choice.

When I praise her for her great attention She becomes pleased as if she is brightened with the words that she wants to hear and bear. And then she speaks some words

-“When I enjoy something, I get involved in it. But when it isn’t something I really want to do I have lack of discipline, I cannot keep going as I have been distracted on my attempts quite a number of times.” She says.

-“When you want to work, it is the mind first will ask you to do it, and again it will ask you to think before doing it, and in this world,
Everywhere you will find distractions and likewise there are enthusiasm to carry on the works that you love most and it is desired in heart.” I say.

-“The mind does get in the way for sure, and it is the mind that always stops us. I wish I can find a key to turn it off and on.” She replies.

-“Yes we have to find the way.” I say.

-“I will turn it off when I don’t need it to think, and turn it on when I have to solve problem or create futures.” She replies.

-“And I feel you good to understand all, dear.” I say.

-“I will be busy with my new web site, as I have got a lot of things to do over the next little while. Have you written any more poetry lately?” she asks.

-“See the link posted on my wall today.” I say.

-“Yes, yes, I find it, hold on, I am reading it.’ And after few minutes she says, “Interesting story Asim. Does the woman respect her own choice, her husband?” She says.

-“It comes in my mind in the way that some minds are so intensive and full of freedom that sometimes these minds are distracted at a single repulsion, and these minds want to search a new mind to get relief. It is my imagination.” I say.

-“Well, yes. However, when a person knows that they have a good partner, even when they argue over something they will still remain committed to the relationship, if they are mature enough to do so. I am very much younger than my partner…. he is twenty years older than me…….. When we are in each other’s company it will be much easier though, because talking over the Internet is open to misinterpretation. There lies a hope if we can afford to deal all matters mutually.” She says.  

-"Then you may read a poem where I say about something about WIFE that is published in a journal of poetry in USA." I say.

After a little while she says, "It is a good poem, dear friend. You have many people who like your poetry. You have observed the world too, I understand from our discussions. It is a good poem. Here is dead of night. I will talk with you later on." 

After that the internet connection is logged off. 


He says he has a mind of his own
He has a lover who is primarily selective,
And she occupies his heart as he feels it to be loved. 

He has noticed it after he gets married,
He becomes an image enveloped as non-existent to his beloved one,
The traces of holding old love he feels it deeply as his new wife divides.

His one time lover then went away in a distant land,
And takes a job for her maintenance,
She is alone and lives starved of love, like peeling an apple.

That day is a rainy day, she suddenly calls him
And dares to say her loneliness she is bearing, in tears,
He only comforts her, does not talk much that day.

Three days later, he makes some decision,
For some propositional shots, unknown
To his wife, who relies him only to be faithful.

Century old customary marriage settled by guardians
Gets some prominent significance, when he makes
Declaration to be right for love, this house is for his wife.

“My wife is sole contender and companion, can not be swamped, 
It is my sacrifice to keep my love-lady away from my home, as to
To honor elderly guardians who launched marriage into my life, I shall love
The woman whom I acquired by social proclaimation, and take her in my
Adored domain, in life where we can stay forever.
And the people while passing the road will devote
A minute to remember the lore that I write on its wall.”
He writes these words on a will, and puts them
In a bank vault filled with diamond, platinum, golden jewelry,
And all are endorsed to his ex-loved lady, and he sends them
To the address of her, and returns home to his wife, being husband.

Few days latter, a letter comes to him, enclosed is the key of a locker,
“I do not call you, my love; please do not tear the cord,
I am happy with my lonely life; it is my gift of love. 
I do not want anything of valuables in this world, but memory of love.”

Thursday, 22 March 2012


“I want all my male friends are at one place in this web site.”

She is so eager to grow her popularity amongst male friends, and likes hang outs, she likes a design to have all her strong and bold hearts take part at chatting glitter. She is a divorcee of age about thirty, and she wants to focus on all people who declare their mighty career as success, and want to have her as a friend, because energy that she shows them is like moving with many performance schedules, as team work of friendship only, and one share of these activities she loves men more than her women friends. There are many problems in the world, particularly the feminism, and problems of woman modesty and subjugation of women, and she knows all, as she is highly educated, yet she wants to have some favor of male participants, who, she thinks are nothing but valued portrayal of her strong passion, love, and she wants praise of her womanhood, beauty and displayed love openness.

And she displays some performance schedule to them. It is a piece of allowed passion. And then messenger comes to carry her wishes, and she talks with him, then approach is made, and in this act, she becomes a friend to him, and her earning eating, and child bearing capability are held as mighty source of love. And in this act she favors to be praised, and when generation rises to have the sectional protest on the suffering that all women faces at the time of working and dealing a life of freedom, she becomes a helping hand to raise them to the place of safety.

Then she goes out to have promotional activities as life is very short, and she likes to choose one male friend to deal a life that brings some satisfaction that she wants to progression in her love schedules in her time living with ex-husband, who has some pattern of living that she does not like as his attitude of woman is not like a man but to keep her under his control as wife and slave pattern to fuck with. This she does not want to have with and to live with, and so leaves her first husband, and then she goes to have second husband, and there she finds a switch over of term of equal manifestation, and here also she finds a mess of her woman sense and she tried then to get rid of these ugly and boring pattern of married life of women. And these intense promotional activities of male dominated world, where are two existences of livelihood of women, two patterns of thinking about women, - one subjugation in the name of freedom, and the other organic social bondage of slave pattern in the name of God, that is created by males who are nothing but messenger of God, as it is prescribed by men only. Then she changed her religion and got married a man having high education, and strangely she finds the same torturous mind playing in his mind, and she does not like to live with him and she changes her mind to live alone in this world with a maximum of friendship she may independently share and dare to live with.

After that she wants all her male friends to reside in one web page schedules, and independence and settlement for life will be her search as woman in this life and the life after this worldly life upon this earth.


When I feel love where I am most welcome
More I feel to take rest at my lover’s bosom,
This smell is sweet dawn as I move on,
This world seems a good living in love’s freedom
Proof of loveliness it gathers in my summons,
This creates memories, the remembrance for all.

Oh, when I like to talk and loiter with her,
She becomes passionate to hold my hands,
Again I dwell to live in her swearing stands,
She pleases me like a teen’s first touch resolved,
Her travel with me is like dancing in rain
As if we are moving in confirmation of love and serenity. 


Question haunts me
How a looser one gets hurt
With breaking link?
With target missing?
With size not fitting?
With censor getting wrong choice?
With unknown signaling?

Question haunts me
How a binding cord gets loosened?
Perhaps participants evade mediators
Those make beginning of reaction,
Those make plug in signals,
Those build the worship place
Those choice God’s shrines
Those do not make empty promises,
Those do make visualization on God’s mirth,
And keep the choice at the envelops,
Co-efficient of long term relationship.  

Determination of one part is loosed
That I find in the red and green signals
And the weak heart gets shocked
In the affected ground the mind is built,
The magical power gets termination,
And sad footsteps come down on looser heart.  

Wednesday, 21 March 2012



Spring time
Cultivator walks past wheat crop
Wonder in open field.


Sunny morning
Spring time paddy crop ripen yellow,
Cultivator feels delight.


A little squirrel jumps
From shadowy tree on ground
To steal wheat corn.


Love as a prayer has fulfilling zone of love,
When mind moves on higher significance.
Blissful messages that mind does accept,
Mind is filled with no moan, no foeman.
Having been carrying love human flame.
Born of His hope, learnt of His greatest glow,
We know the altruistic flow, with no decay,
While sitting on a grass cushion to pray,
With our heart and soul for peace and happiness,
That we all want with the people we meet,
To be free from enmity, free from misery,
We do learn and do distribute it over others,
Who do experience with the life they meet,
And we practice to think who we are, how we exist here.

Tuesday, 20 March 2012


Please do not call me in my passion’s name
Whereas you are in success in love and work,
Nothing sweetened I do have as I am in failure,
Lonely I feel to stay in rocky way in tears,
Relief has its way on the storms I have met
And pertaining love is my failure in her tastes
Soothing is absent in the realm of solitudes,
All words of expression have lost visualization,
Sacrifice that I have made is nothing to her,
As mercy is ceased in her love treasure
And I become a closed garden wherein
I am sole living creature in the flame of love,
A self love virtue dwells in my memory.

Learning I do not have how to extract dry leaves,
Experience I do not have how to smell skin,
Motivation I do not have how to feel melting point,
Constant frame I have now to mounting format. 


[There is a conflicting love both the partners here are not familiar with earlier as the system is one the sense that deals with much search, and technological advancement gives complex promotions on relationships ]

If she believes her husband is old enough to cope with her forms and body surge, she will not try tofind it for another term from younger performer on her body’s need. A stout and healthy man of younger age may give her a sentence of love, and for this she stays with her husband to make arousal process, and then one night she makes a dent in the nearby retired person who at the very age of thirty two has come out from military service in order to get a civil life without any pension and or remuneration of his service, and he wants to stay alone, and wants to enjoy his life with single, without binding anything that may cause him to ponder over, and just he wants to ring and sing and then leave the site of excitement without any pacing widely on the day’s act.

It is an interesting behavior of the old man, he is stout than other men of the same age in the locality, yet he lives in weariness, because the woman who is now his wife, came five years’ ago to him on her own will, as she declared that she was exhausted on her husband who was younger to him and little older than her. She lived with his first for ten years having one child. Now she feels her first has not much interest in her, rather he is interest in the new girl friend that he picked up from the backdoor of friendship of his wife. And this becomes most irritating on her part to tolerate him as husband, and so she wants to have one close friend who is matured and had the signals of expressions and participation with the wonder in matured aged longing. And so she became investigative and entered into the world of choosing and discovering with the real life programmer, not like cinematic axioms of living with a man who has another woman in his life. And she files divorce case against her first and decides to have a mature and cool husband to live with, age is not a bar to her. 

One day, the old husband says to his younger wife,

-“Whatever you do with your body and mind, please talk with me patiently, as because you love me in your core of heart, yet you pass time in other place with our kid alone in home without mother, only accompanying a man, who happens to  be his father. And she is still younger to feel the reality.”

-“Yes dear, I do not leave this kid. Again I have to look after another kid who is now growing up in his uncle’s house, as I cannot give time to him. Please do not worry about me, as I am fixed with the life pattern that all others are enjoying….” She replies.

-“But some strange voice does call you Hey  from a little distance and I hear this sound with joint laughter when I telephone you when you stay at your mother’s house to see your kid there, and I think to ask you, but I have no taste in such queries.” He says.

-“Yes dear, he is my friend, he returns from his service and he lives alone with his one kid near my mother’s house, and I have had just talks with him. And I confess it, dear. Then tell me what is about your girl friend who just returned from her trip in an African country.” She says.

“Please my dear sweet lady, you are young and just think of your life and not feel love for a mad decision, rather a sublime thinking of life and love patterns, and please think about it, dear.”
The old husband says about it.

She said nothing, just make gesture of courtesy to say, “Yes, dear. It is true. I respect you. And there is not any confusion or misunderstanding between us.” And quits the conversation and engages her with own work.  

Monday, 19 March 2012


That day all models are walking on the ramp,
All woman are performing like angels in the sky,
The stepping, the style, the movement of body,
Each and everyone contains a story, a beautiful telling
A tale of beauty and creation of lovely fashion creator,
Worth and learned are the creators’ new designs,
And the vibrant are walking of the woman beauties,
All are lines of dominance of beauty, amongst visitors.

Suddenly comes the fall from the wrong or loose stitches,
One woman model startles with her sliding strap
From shoulders, and she somehow holds the dress up,
With her one hand, and walks boldly, swinging other hand.
It tells the readiness of the models to hold missing links,
And women are active to hold that gap in tight grip,
A strange quality that they can do, if not otherwise nails
Of the pencil hill shoes get broken, that may make them injured,
Yet they continue with bright and lustrous walking in light,
And cameramen and industrial crews are holding business true,
It is grandiose, well started shows hosted for selling all
Commodities of life and love, flowering on our body charms.



A kiss for you,
You feel warmth in my chest,
I will sit on my knees.


Sweet passion flows,
Closely lying on your side,
I am yours.


You feel trampled
You cover me with touches,
You are mine.


Caresses latch
The wave and the moon,
Singing through veins.


I feel your body,
You pour warm on finger tips,
Your dresses spill open.


Look at me straight,
I will explore your body arched,
I will hit heard.


I will transform you,
In delightful dream,
On watery beach,
Sweet memories while breathing.