MISSING LOVE

We are souls

Moving in mysterious ways,

We are souls

Of a nation, tears coming out,

Floating between

Board meeting and

Living in hanging,

Caught in uphill task

That we cannot make viable

For our rescue for better substance

For our existence, as we are

Bereft of sanctity,

And in fractures,

We have no purpose

Or dream,

Love is now a defect,

It is in missing segments,

As souls of distant

State of being is in cells

Disabled us to move in array,

Blood is pouring out.  

MY PRETTY LOVING BEAUTY

In all seasons of my life,

I have traveled a long way,

To hold loving delight,

In my mind, in my folding of arms,

The touching of very beauty,

That will have essence to tell me

About the score of life, and

Sweet spells of the life and the moment,

Drifting tide in my veins,

On its way to my heart,

The very enthralls of my feeling,

That I can hold and give security,

It is way of my loving sacrifice for her.

Like a flower she comes,

Respiration does hold the charm,

I only try to say,

“Pretty things are for adoration,

And accepting it is like

Dissolving in love, when mind is

Eager to meditate in its liberation.”

She then equips her beauty

To hold me in deep of her beating heart,

It is like dissolving in sensation,

I mingle with moves of realization,

It is her love that is my delight. 

Note: This poem first published in Creative Outlet Ventures

on a discussion of my poem, ON BEATING OF DRUMS in LinkedIn.com 

I AM NOT A POET

I am not a poet in poetry survey,

I am in dispute, for writing poetry,

From the avenues of life to center of thought,

I am common of commons on receiving solitude,

As I have nothing to offer -

I cannot offer charms,

I cannot offer dreams,

I cannot offer social justice or support,

I cannot bring hope in my words,

I cannot make resonance in word-rhythm,

I cannot make sweet music on prosody,

I cannot move one in enjoyment, in sense of love,

I cannot make a journey as a little jewel,

That holds the tameness for reading my poem,

Yet I write to hold my acquaintance

With the world that is divine on its love

For what exists on its surface as object,

And I want to learn from every object,

I want to cheer existence of all objects here,

And I want to find my way to word in word,

Those are new to me, and I do not hear earlier,

As everything on this earth

Supremely exists, even in loneliness.

Funny Bunny Fridays Week 13: THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE SUNLIGHT

http://purpletreehouse.blogspot.in/2012/10/funny-bunny-fridays-week-13-has.html

My little grandson wants to catch sun-rays,

I feel seeing it a lot of fun,

My query is not like that of little one,

My feet want to control the baby on run.

His little fingers move in light

He cannot hold it on the right,

I am still chasing around his crawling,

And to protect him I run close to him.

With eagerness he looks at sun-rays

Falling upon floor through window,

He has to wait for many days,

To grow up to know the way.

Long way on his great curiosity,

He smiles and tries to hold rays,

As if these are solid objects,

My funny things are his curiosity.

I think sunlight is his gracious vision,

Little things are so important on our life,

His little hands want to rein the existence.    

WINDOW OF LOVE

You with blushing smiles,

Do come on your planned way,

Mingled with wild ethos

Those get change on the grace,

On a day in winter season,

Snow yet to fall on yellow surface

Of the earth, enriched in random choice,

I live with this dream.

You come on my way,

To ask me what I want

On the feather skin, soft like melting dew,

On grass, hands on the shore,

To hold your chin to look into your eyes,

And then ride on oceanic mystery,

Wind and swing of words,

Will bring waterfall on secret charms,

And I will mingle in your bloom,

Careful in your pursuits,

Moving me in your touch,

On the vast exploration of the earth,

Expression can build the expectation.

It gives me tide

That opens the window of love,

The speech of life begins in syllables.             

LIFE AND DESTINY

I run on faults,

I have come a long way,

I know I have to run,

And effortlessly I have to understand,

The bearing of simmering burden

On my back,

To reach to the sea

That is my aim,

That is meant for me,

And time brings conclusion

To live on sharp razor-edge,

Smell on smell

Word on word

With body in pain,

Over fire of speeches

Delivered by others,

Who are making differences,

Between common and uncommon,

Between reality and dream,

And I think of my faults,

As generality of living

For my life and destiny. 

PHONE, CAMERA AND THE INTERNET

Phone in shades of color

With aluminum backing

Or plastic-rubber casing,

With touch screen

Is now essential for talking

Hello in the morning,

Far from countries across boundaries,

And we sit on communicative world,

Vibrant as a galaxy over sound around life,

We are moving talking on talking,

Stirring the wave in the air,

Through aptitude of our innovations.

Amazing things are cameras

With Wi-Fi stream that moves

Cloud to cloud to show pictures

On realm of eyes over our life,

That is enlightened with imaging perception,

Over human existence

With the life and the nature,

With images running before eyes,

Eager to learn for gallants and fancies

Of our creation and participation

With reflections of life,

Inclined mainly on photographic treasures.

And in the very existence

Internet has prudently creates

Connections over interpretations of life,

And continues to find time, and ensuing events

From pictures of our primary activities,

To the world of knowledge and messages,

Like funny things as consumers,

Giving the earth’s grace,

That is filled with happy or angry reflections

And we move about our forms and contents,

With which we move over ages and pursuits.

We are living now in websites and on line consumption.  

LIFE AND LOVE

When my exhausted moments do come,

And the earth becomes my anger,

I want to move in arms’ sails and in moonlight,

There grow sweet thoughts lain in brain,

I dream of her in my special room,

A flower bed in music of my dream,

A kiss for love that gives me relief,

And till morning I love to stay in spirited voice,

That cools me in her soft bosom,

That knows what tired sleep does want to feel,

Over my lain head, in murmurs,

And I move on pink surface and in white clouds

Those hover over silent unity of life and love,

As if a piano music moves with great love-order. 

SENSE OF LIFE

A long way in the summer sun,

Day’s journey recalls sleep’s turn,

Morning to evening moves in pain,

Going out of the apple core wonder,

Life is an order of the rays,

From actions to rains,

Soon lovely home comes in vision,

World taking rest in sleeps,

With the sun’s going down,

Love comes in the sense of life. 

FACTS AND LIFE’S ERRORS

I cannot change the world

I cannot make teasing upon me,

I cannot be master of my destiny,

As present time gives a yellow performer

And he is living source-agent of life,

Taking charge of my protection.

And he knows how to earn benefits

From the events those are communicative

Easily to the ears of common flows, blows, snows,

As if I am living in powerhouse

That is maintained by circuits,

A whirling guidance of my real life

And here lies the error, own advocacy is rumored.

I cannot speak on sorrowful events,

As I am not acquiring the freedom,

As my tenancy looses ticket for binding

With bottom of dictation, my performance levels.

To the established echo that comes in nature,

And I am one mold of life sentence,

I cannot say in my way as I am one image of

Other species those are like precious stone

Continually and significantly braced with

New fashions of life pattern, a new type of returns.

MY LIVING STANDARD

My childhood, a spoon on the sickle

That gets hot at every burn of struggle,

As if I am blown out like a burnt fly in heat wave,

That covers me in its huge wing folds.

It is not that I am on the wrong path,

I want to survive, struggling with reality,

I am not aimless, but some unknown

Luxurious persons drug my feet for their gain.

The entire dream is a broken night lamp

That clings over my head while sleeping.

My bed is screwed to a fixed wall,

That is crude, coated with blood-soaked color.

On this way I am moving with affiliations

Those are not mine, but are imposed capsules

That cannot generate dream, but give nightmare,

And with this, my living standard is poor and nostalgic.

Note: I am happy to received 

The Perfect Poet Award List For Week 73, Happy Rally! Thanks to Hyde Park Poetry

LIFE IS BURDEN, I REALIZE IT

I look at him

He delivers a television speech,

Country welcomes his voice,

He is like an image of deliberation

And he marches on, and dwells in public mind,

As if he is voyaging through villages

Like chief of maintaining of provisions,

Food, drink and dwellings,

I believe he is man of words,

I have to honor him.

In his speech he plays like king,

And he declares, “We have to arrive at

Highest post of our life, and

We have to come out of our burdens.”

It sounds good to hear all thoughts,

He just then declares,

Selling of elementary episode of life,

But villagers do belief to have with it,

And it cannot be sold out.

I think it is a bargain,

Shopping with basketful items,

Air, the sunlight, water, and the nature,

Those are once our originality of surviving,

And now those are being sold out by own erosion.

.

The speech ends,

Flushes of camera bulbs go wild,

Photo of the king comes in breaking news,

I remain as mute observer

Looking at the black hole

I am living with erosion of soil,

As if I am pushed across vineyard,

And subjected to live in wound with empty hand,

Life is burden, I realize it.

MAN OF MARKETING PRICE

When I see the man by my side,

I can guess he is an affluent one in the folk,

Having labels on the vehicle, while moving,

At present he is an exception.

I now look at the environment,

His gestures are full of avoiding me,

I cannot talk with him, I think he is

Very important, having a serious vision.

Then I survey dream and hope at the living,

I stay at a distance from his observance,

His is like proclaimed winner of marketing price,

Life is someone’s playing game to be fine. 

Short Story Slam Week 27: Locations and Sensations

                                   LOCATION AND SENSATION                 

                                                  

Image Credit: Forests Bona

Bluebell Books Twitter Club: Short Story Slam Week 27: Locations and Sensations

Standing on the Broadway passage,

I pass my time with my baggage

For my journey to Chicago, Seattle, Austin, airport, and

My ride starts for India – Kolkata, Delhi, Madras and Mumbai.

In my youthful aromas, and I want to see the locations,

And I am curious of sensation; I can feel it of my visits there,

With my affordable fare and journey cost,

And I want to see sunset at the Juhu Beach,

To compare the scene that I see at my place - California beach.

I will visit Santiniketan with my friends,

And from bookstore at Visva-Bharati University,

I will buy one full collection of writings RabindranathTagore,

My mind will be enlightened with echo of spirited feeling of his writings.

There are places I may walk with thoughts that may grow,

With an echo of a sound that creates blessings of this world.

I may have some knowledge of spiritual insights of India,

And I can enter the existence of the beautiful earth,

And understand the world of nature, the mother earth preserves. 

LOVE AND POETRY

I am still learning the word, love,

I am still learning the word, poetry,

I am still learning what to write

On love and on poetry,

And get a combination of two words

Into relinquishment of becoming a poetry,

On way to ensure love of my dear one,

With the presence of texts and contours,

She comes in my dream,

Sometimes in her beauty of natural attitude,

I have seen an angel over music of forms,

I have to travel in search of words

For useful content of understanding of beauty,

Life is full of act and ideas,

One is existent of one’s self,

And it is a place

Where love and poetry exist

With promises from heart,

I am still learning what it is about love,

And when poetry become meaningful to

Sweet melody of mind, to touch to my loved one.

She comes in accordance with her nature,

She wants to make a history,

In love’s theme of speaking aloud in verse,

And asks me in common parlance

To hold her hands in her wishes,

Following through thrills of two words, love and poetry.

Note: This poem is first published in discussion of my poem, MY LADY BEAUTY, at literary group Writer's Cafe' in linkedin.com 

THE DREAM

I return to a concluding part,

I do not move in wilderness,

And will see reflection of love,

On the earth’s web of existence.

I return to a magical turning,

Mighty presence of beautiful moon,

Gives evidence of unending pursuance

Of love to beauty of a person,

Who can say, “Live with my words,

I love dreamer’s dream,

With the images of life in the world,

I am the woman, I hold the dream.”

I look at the sky, in the night,

And think, millions of years passed,

The moon is still dreaming spirit,

In presence of love in everyone’s feeling. 

Note: This poem is first published in discussion of my poem, MY LADY BEAUTY, at literary group Writer's Cafe' in linkedin.com 

MY LADY BEAUTY

I have seen you in your eyes,

To hairs that make big shadows around,

Over your face,

As if hairs encroaching your face,

And eyes are shut in thrill of love,

Horizon of beauty moves under your beauty,

That I want to see through all my life,

Turn after turn

Keeping a vigil sensation in your love,

O my lady beauty, you are defiance of my love.

I have seen your blush in very touch,

Great attitude of high spirit,

Life is full of love

When I see you, and always pray

You smile with closed eyes,

With all hairs falling down on your countenance,

As if the storm create lovely air,

Under younger and prettier transformation,

With every kiss that dazzles in your lips,

Millions of years we live at the centre of love.

IF LOVE COMES

Moving door to door, land to land, ocean to ocean,

Walking through asteroids, you come into my heart,

As an angel to offer love, an impression in love mind,

Through the celestial light, soft and delight.

Looking for a lovely heart I move since the universe created,

Your words are symbol of call of love

From innermost heart, a sweet moment in life,

The smooth touch comes on great appearance of your grace.

The biggest innings of life is to love,

A lucky landing of beauty and love in one journey

The life comes into full bloom, if love touches,

Significant of life then becomes heavenly speech,

For the existence over passage of time,

Beautifully danced into vigor of bright influence

That the life wants to take bath in offering,

Love is inwardly protector of life, born and re-born. 

LIFE, THE BURNING SUN

I look at the burning sun

Whip like filament lashes the root,

Moving around all the time,

The very sun shines the world.

Still burning my mind,

Life is a burst

Of solar lashes

A home of burning formation,

I am one backward runner

Now on a rush of old ideas,

Those are my living meaning

Home wants something,

I am not colorful to the needs,

Ferocity may dwell in between,

Inverse phase of life throws me,

Lashes my endurance,

I am now a single creature,

A bitter taste to dwellers,

My anger is a burn to me,

Useless sediment to others.

Nothing earlier drop I can put,

For acquisition on the way,

For their assignment, being

Dragged between the age and the world.

GREEN, THE LIVING SENSATION

It drizzles,

Rusty clouds in the blue,

Raindrops talk from inside,

They stop, again fall after a gap,

Distinct September,

Weather counts spin

Over change of a season

Upon the earth.

Paddy crops planted

Thieved in green to green web,

Saplings are swinging in wind,

To grow in fulfillment,

And it is dream to farmers,

A favored bet for returns,

Green is sweet to all population,

Giving protection to living sensation.

AN EMBRACE

Dear sweetie, come and play,

With warm embrace, a fierce possession,

In our body-space, and let us know

The world is not full of technical web.

We are all real in pleasure of body

That we can sacrifice for our unknowing

Openness that we want to live with pulse

In our lips and mingle with skin.

Dear sweetie, life is short,

And be hurry to come to me

For an hour, at least to embrace love,

That I need to feel and share.

To know the measures of love,

We are all time clouded, darling,

We both want to have an expensive kissing

To know our love and liberation.

THE MARS WITH ASPIRATION

Once it is our dream-planet,

Now it is our journey over its surface,

And its pictures are carried in moving machine

And beamed to our eyes, great interest.

On our eyes

The wide range of colored contours

Mountains, plains, cracks,

Human being thrilled on pivotal promise.

Of our journey down to the sky,

Awake in our vision,

The great Mars

We pull the curtain of distance

And we are open-eyed in the images,

Life is reflection of reality,

Searching for new life in different planet,

As if it is born with aspiration. 

LOVE EYES IN SPLIT APPEARANCE

EYES AWAKE

In love pertaining in heaven

Sharing on the earth.

Eyes staring

Love makes sequences inside

The heart on screen beginning.

One dark night

Eyes make family life,

On familiar pain.

Morning follows morning,

Birds silent, river flows,

Eyes filled with tears.

Promising eyes,

Tears fill the heart with

Source being sinking.

Eyes are visions,

Mirrors are opponents,

Middle age darkening.

Eyes want to go out,

Decisive moments flow chart,

On the love’s threshold.

Eyes are painting,

Perception argues with reality,

We are bound in limitations.

Eyes are ignored

Accurate colorful melting turns greens

Porous is cloud.

Eyes see family life,

Eyelashes brim over spilt objects,

Normal population emboweled.

Eyes are donated

Money becomes source getting it,

Golden leaves flicker.

Soaked eyes,

Want to see forward,

Life line is split appearance.

Eyes of one person

Cannot be of another person,

Body and mind moving automatic,

Life is solid burnt sienna,

Eyes coordinate with life,

Looking alone is nature’s bind.

THE LITTLE LADY BEAUTY

She is in her little mood

To dance in green world,

In her precious cute greatness,

That the earth fills her mind

With perception that

The lady in childhood does

Think and smile with

Gleaming of glaring eyes,

In parental guidance,

That is her best place

To growing up in her appearance

Upon this world, divine and calm. 

Sketchbook & Asim Kumar Paul, India: Free Verse: Living in Peace; Simply We Are in one Society

HERE IS THE E-MAIL MESSAGE BELOW, PLEASE READ THE MESSAGE AND  THE POEM, AND COMMENT:

"From: John Daleiden webmaster@poetrywriting.org for Sketchbook
To: Asim Kumar Paul, India

Hello  Asim Kumar Paul,

Asim, Sketchbook has received your poem for the Let Us Pray Feature in the 31 August 2012 issue; thank you.

Titles: Asim Kumar Paul, India: Free Verse: Living in Peace; Simply We Are in one Society 

...........

...........

We hope that you will pass this link on to friends who will join us; The more people who participate and read the more our hearts will become one. Surely, a heart that envelops the world can make changes and differences in lives.

We can make a difference and wipe away all the divisions that have arisen because of different belief systems. Let us all love and respect one another in one accord.

Our home page is available at this link: http://poetrywriting.org/

Thank you for considering Sketchbook for the publication of your work.

John Daleiden, webmaster@poetrywriting.org  for Sketchbook.
Karina Klesko, editor@poetrywriting.org for Sketchbook.
jd / kk

Poetrywriting.org/Karina Klesko/Director
www.poetrywriting.org
Sketchbook
Karina Klesko, Senior Editor
John Daleiden, Editor/Webmaster"

My Let Us Pray Poem can be reviewed at this link:

http://poetrywriting.org/Sketchbook0-0LUP/Sketchbook_7-4_JulyAugust_2012-43_LUP_Asim_Kumar_Paul_Free_Verse_Living_in_Peace_Simply_We_Are_in_one_Society.htm

and:

http://poetrywriting.org/Sketchbook0-0LUP/Sketchbook_7-4_JulAug_2012_Let_Us_Pray_Feature_Index.htm

WHITE LIVING

Walking on the living platform,

I feel like a dry leaf with lovely background,

Easiest way is not for my living, not like the way

Of flowers those are simply clinging with beauty.

Many times, I see the flowers on the roadside,

With expectation; but for me, price of life is turning white

With turbulence, and all songs of life mean nothing,

Money turns as scarcity, as if money is head of all holdings.

The flower still blooms as it is origin of life,

Bones and marrow are not removed, earth operates the nature,

Unending with scope of love and caring.

I find me as an unspeakable object of the white esteem.


Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmik, Kolkata 

THE GREAT CURIOSITY

The great curiosity,

His eyes blazing in searching image,

Of life ahead, daring in quest,

It is gracious to his peers,

With one hand to hold offering

We intend to give him rejoice,

For healthy and happy life,

That he deserves to have on this earth,

We are bound to give him everything good. 

FLASH OF BLUES

Olympic 2012

Summer Sport Emoticon Pack,

Flash of blues.

Olympic 2012

They swim for gold medals,

In waters, flash of blues.

Olympic 2012

She moves in freestyle swimming

In flash of blues.

The ocean paints,

The earth sparkles in

Flash of blues.

The sky paints,

The time and the sun are hosts

In flash of blues.

The painter paints,

He uses ice, light, the need

In flash of blues.

With flash of blues,

She holds flowers to offer

Her promising man. 

TIME TO BE PARTING AWAY

Two partners are in colors,

They are in bubbles of blooming around,

Making the nature beautiful,

The message from them:

To tell the world they are in love, wishes of love.

They are worth to the hymn of lovely love,

They are beautiful between  

The earth and the universe.

She says, “We are born in bush.”

He says, “We are spaces of the heart.”

She says again, “One day we will be

Dried out, even if we do want to be fine.”

He replies, “By definition, we are

The occupants of love, and similarly

By definition we are born to die.”

“Shh! Do not say these more,” she says,

“Let the earth to appear in its full bloom.”

REFLECTION OF LOVE

Beautiful things,

Moving in spirit of dream,

Are needful to loving persons,

As if window gives entry

To the vision of flower,

Whose beauty is true,

In real belongings, and in dream, too,

And love is like wakeful singing,

Into mind, and kissing is a term of living,

And it takes time to know love.

If something is slipping away,

It is the mind that swings in vision,

And a look into flowering appearance

Will bring beauty of love,

Every touch will bring peace,

Over body and mind,

And everyone will learn,

Love is an essence, and

Nothing is missing in its presence. 

Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmick, Kolkata 

ON BEATING OF DRUMS - 1

The evening that comes in the village fold,

The figures in the dark contour,

That holds heaven of dancing tour,

And resolute in merriment of twilight,

To cross the bridge of day and night,

Villagers are on the threshold to make tide,

Dancing and turning over and again,

Each one stepping in merriment of the beating,

And some onlookers are gilded in joy,

And welcome the dance, ripening color

Of the fire that lights night across the sky,

The evening forgets dark seas,

And mingles into dancing delight. 

Note: THIS POEM FIRST POSTED IN LINKEDIN.COM ON 07.08.2012 AT Creative Outlet Ventures in a discussion of my poem, ON BEATING OF DRUMS, published in my blog at http://asimkumarpaul.blogspot.in/2012/08/on-beating-of-drums.html

 Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmik, Kolkata 

THE MARS

Image of the Mars, enigmatic designing,

NASA’s Curiosity rover is on guest riding,

To find life with water and carbon bonding,

A hope to bloom in crust-finding. 

HAIKU: PALASH

Red beauty on the array,

Palash blooms freshly around,

In flowing of summer wind. 

Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmik, Kolkata 

ON BEATING OF DRUMS

Hand in hand

Every one moves in concord

On beating of drums.

Summer evening,

Kerosene lamp lights signaling,

On beating of drums.

Dancing womenfolk,

Stepping play a noble rhythm

On beating of drums. 




Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmik, Kolkata. 

Short Story Slam Week 24: Life Behind The Corners of Your Smiles!: WINTER

Photo #1: Winter

Whispering in ears,

Winter-speech of the seasons, sweet and harmony,

That will bring singing.

Both enjoying details,

Sitting on ice flowing, glittering white clustering,

Spectacle of designs.

They sit in coats,

Falling snow makes beauty sermon,

Winter captures loving dawn.

MY TWO POEMS AT Sketchbook May / June 2012: Her Brown Shadow & Her Pink Shadow

MY TWO POEMS AT

SKETCHBOOK
 

A Journal for Eastern & Western Short Forms

Free Verse

Her Brown Shadow

&

Her Pink Shadow

Here is the link 

http://poetrywriting.org/Sketchbook7-3MayJun2012-42/Sketchbook_7-3_MayJune_2012-42_Genre_Free_Verse_Asim_Kumar_Paul.htm

MY POEM AT Sketchbook May / June 2012: The Lost Tree

MY POEM AT

Sketchbook

a journal for eastern and western forms


Results for Poem This Picture Contest May / June 2012

Moderator Shanna Baldwin Moore, US

FREE VERSE SL NO. 11: The Lost Tree

http://poetrywriting.org/Sketchbook7-3MayJun2012-42/0_Results_Sketchbook_7-3_MayJune_2012_Results_PTP_Contest_Shanna_Baldwin_Moore.htm

TO MY GRANDSON

O baby pilgrim, the beauty of the earth,

Do you search love we care first for your marching forward?

When we meditate in yellow aspires, you just arrive in love,

To fill our heart to live more, looking in your innocent new eyes,

Those are beautiful to give way to compose shape of life,

That you need, more syllables of measured steps for growing up.

We leave no stone unturned to keep you best in our endeavor,

To make you a man with black hair, with wide looks of significance,

And you will make threads of knowledge to hold divine earth,

That is the harmony we do desire to live in peace with shining

Of the sun, controls of each footing will not be waste

Over our life, dissolving the river of moving objects of awakening.  

GRANDMOTHER IN LONELINESS

She is grandmother

She knows the worth of baby grandson,

Sometime she is feeling like a picked up flower,

That comes in her mind in bubble moves.

She now is living without him,

Far away to look after her ailing mother.

She feels loneliness, and takes notice of her feeling,

That is reeling under awful rainstorm,

When she sits alone after performing duty for mother,

She thinks of the baby, whom she loves most,

As if she joins hands to pick grass roots of her love,

A frozen lake sends silent voice in grief and pain. 

Taking her time to telephonic talks with his son

Who sends, in long intervals, messages of her sweet grandson,

That is not her sensation of joy, but a short cut

To reach curious looks of naughty grandchild

Who was once her lap when his son and daughter-in-law

Went out of home, and she was glad to look after the baby.

From the dance of baby interfering in her lap,

She sees her dream in glittering of bay’s toothless smiles,

She smiles with him, cuddling deeply with kisses and hugging,

And she does not know computer uses, and

Cannot share in web video sharing with the baby, yet over life,

More blessings she prays for grandson’s smiling all the time.

THE MISTAKE OF A GRANDMA

She is now a new grandmother, and

In the form of newness of sea change,

Neither her daughter-in-law, nor her son,

Does know for the time being

What feeling she is bearing to the new comer.

She rises up to be generous to all,

Yet none to share her dream,

As her daughter-in-law is service holder,

A proud mother of present time culture,

The middle aged mother feels the pain,

When new mother is away from home,

Leaving behind the new born to grandma.

And grandma thinks of the past

Of her son, how deeply and carefully

She nourished, being always at home,

Minute to minute she took quiet look,

It is like silent shore to know and to hear,

The wave and the sound of the new sea,

And thus she made her son adult

With love, and now he becomes a father,

And does not feel the share of his mother,

Who once as young mother loved him more,

And in little mistake, if she does now

To her grandson, she feels the angry score.

Grandma knows how to make one baby

Happy and smiling in cherished mood

Born in a baby, and she acts in that way,

And when his son and daughter-in-law

Return home, they show displeasure

To her, as if she does not know child caring.

Things are painful to her,

And she plays like a slave to her son,

Who is changed in the wave of newness,

That comes from huge printed book guides,

She feels like snow to live in frozen tears,

Dreaming for a country where she has no son or grandson.

LIFE AND DREAM

1.

Willingness travels on shadows,

Travelling in dream is to wondering

With real leaves that are taken from trees.

It is life that is weary of the rainbows,

That move in desires of love inside.

Once it is life, once it is dream.

2.

Growing of pain is like squeezing dreams,

Day and night give true returns,

Burning of the sun is knocking of dream,

Rising of the sun gives growing expectation,

That guides thoughts in promise.

Once it is life, once it is dream.

3.

Dream flows in wave of fluorescence of mind,

That glows in fragrance of rose sublime,

Blues turn into reds if life becomes drops of rain,

In realm of contacting wisdom in mind,

Leaves of careful wishes fill our heart with dream.

Once it is life, once it is dream. 

Lover’s Existence

Short Story Slam Week 23: Lover’s Existence

                                                         Image Credit: by Meredith Storm via Wordle-Create...

Bluebell Books Twitter Club : Short Story Slam Week 23


I portray a life,

That is an imagination,

Of the future and of the dream orchards

Wherein I dwell, yet cannot touch.

All imaginations glitter,

As if rain of loving clouds of the earth,

Wets my heart with spirit of creations,

And I am filled with limitless energy.

I cannot rehearse daydream

That comes if I feel disinterested

With my beloved friend, who has first come in

My life in July, my marriage month.

I cannot halt for a moment

If I differ to my loved one’s bitterish anguish,

As the life I deal now is full of freedom

To know my lover’s existence all the time.  

LOVE AND HER LONELINESS

The world of her loneliness moves with her return at home,

When her son is away with his wife and her daughter living with husband,

She scares herself for a moment in execution of her existence like stars,

As she wants to stand as upright young heart living upon green grass.

Of late she is feeling loneliness; none is there in home to greet her,

And she thinks about the mode of expression of love in sharing with dear one,

She thinks about questioning her friends about best way of expression of love,

Or she is just thinking high in getting and taking someone descending upon her.

Her neighbors are friends, who are on her web page friends’ list,

She feels good as long as she is with them as she is talking with them,

She has given expressions on the page like bosom on the moon’s love,

Then wind of love blows like avalanche in the snow picked mountain.

Kids are kids; they are grown up to think for themselves as if they are spring water,

And move as they like to take their lives as their own, taking mother as ornament

That is great God, rather than thinking of her as human being to be taken care of again,

When she thinks of bad things in dark shadow of her living, she shed tears like a child. 

LOVE AND SILENCE

What I perceive is silence,

As if I breathe gently in silence,

Last fifteen days are like objects of tracing love,

Like sleeping baby in front of mother,

And I stand in vast blue seconds in the sky,

It is not false; the body of silence is sinking like swallowing pain.

Many days I try to write something,

Many times I feel something has disappeared

Love is invisible, and I am also invisible,

The thread of love that creates our existence, is

Like an object that is closed in wind parlance,

Wherein I only move and talk and work as machine.

To this feeling of silence,

I live like an object which can only give work schedule,

I do not breathing in sound of this silence,

And if you can give me an essence of awakening dream in love,

My words then discover my life in love of need and homely visits,

To the world wherein we live like angels with roses of waking love.

LOVE

Dear friend, forgive me, I cannot go far,

As you travel more and deserve for companion,

And when you need my presence,

I would kneel and say, “Stay in my premises.”

House to house you build some feeling,

That is miracle and wealth of mind

When you reside inside me to call someone

Who can touch me, taking that person as mine.

As if I am your force to grow in your smooth passage,

And I am in your desire to share someone’s feeling,

With sweet things those are great and never be forgotten,

Life is in conduct and practice; I feel it now, in my senses.

LOVE PARTICLE

Electron, neutron, and proton and ………………

Noble particles, share of life and optical shades

That share line of speckled moves,

Life is full of love wherein golden beam of light

Enthralls of settings and configuration,

All are symbols and syllables of life and heart.

From the naked intensity, we do love,

In the time-domain stimulation, like dear and near regions,

From the cast that dares our love of universe,

Straining body in scanned inheritance,

That is conducted to complete our adaptation,

With rewards of knowledge we travel in great search.

SUPPORTING LOVE

I cannot count my moments on the way of love.

If I can make myself frequently moving in the shades of bodies,

The size of life becomes time-searching episodes spent on shares.

All ordinary living episodes are just small things of silence.

And in the silence I want to fit myself in the matter of formation,

That is needed in the sacrifice, perhaps I do not obtain that desire,

Life is institution, that gets injured moments much more than happier moments,

And working out for love moments I pass fingers to break silence for supporting love.