I struck at the world

I struck at the world in mad rage,
which reached back in kindness,
with its infinitely wide visage,
yet I couldn’t accept my blindness;

why mould me into their image,
I will not bow to their highness,
and will never share their cage,
uncouth I’ll never know their finesse;

I am human and share the same page,
yet will never shun the inner brightness,
and will tear evil, mighty power’s camouflage,
for that in myriad ways shaping my fitness;

end not count, where, how travel, nor farewell,
but along path, how far love and truth dwell.


Break free

‘Break free’, the heart thundered,
shatter shackles, leap on the boulder,
shaky me yet surrendered,
this cause, needs a hand, of mighty wonder;

no rules in God’s name, nor look to the cloud,
do it here yourself and make him proud,
break free, the willows echo,
break free, the rivers will show;

not god, not law or society can hold me tight,
the shackled who love me, say please be near,
beg and they shout, its for the best and right,
what to do, I stumble, yet will win my desire;

rules good for society, when with few mighty,
break free to crush injustice even if almighty.

A doubter

A doubter in the doubtless ocean tossed,
here thrown asunder, before final drown,
I can’t swim, nor my heart, moment paused,
vultures zoom, yet I sigh, never got the crown;

log floated nearby, not act of merciful god,
yet god, experiential thought, none can defy,
whose log, whose god, many questions asked,
biased waters plug nose, in God’s name justify,

not understood, unloved by narrow folks,
my quirky self asked God, if you’re there,
whom do you love most, me or those crooks,
from up above a voice said I love all with care;

I show it to you daring, for you need it most,
can’t threaten you, follow me, or you’re toast.

The wild rage

The wild rage, pain on, you got that zing thing,
no blunder, never surrender, the thunder crazy,
the world tells, world yells, what do we care,
we don’t cross them, we walk free, we dare;

their spells, that bind all, on us loose its magic,
and they’re afraid as we stand defying logic,
in fear and desperation, hold out their rules,
what constraints can hold us wild bulls;

death does come to all us, pain comes,
happiness too, in a blitzkrieg beyond hymns,
let them gather, mumble prayers, and give fee,
we’ll take anytime, death or morning tea;

they envy us and tremble, throwing stones
on us brave few that never went under.

Oh baby, strong beauty

Oh baby, strong beauty, don’t run away, not now,
for I’ve changed, oh! believe me , my lazy days are gone,
I sing songs now, yet not lazy, nor crazy, please ask me how,
a vision haunts me to wake early morn, work dusk till dawn;

you’ve heard stories, great excuses, quite a lot before,
what can I do, if this one is the grandest of them all,
truth simple is all I ever know, foolishly shall never know the score,
but you knew this all before and I trusted you to not let me fall;

I am penniless and a pauper, yet now am struggling to the core,
to earn my bread, make things meet and a lavish much much more,
but what am I to do when suddenly you ask for a diamond tiara,
except that, very harsh and unlucky to be born in so cold an era;

but don’t fret, I won’t ever blame you, my fierce cold, hot companion,
don’t dread, I won’t mildly go with unfinished vision into oblivion.

I am a hunter

I am a hunter of the mystic art craft’s lure,
scourge the thick dusty forest with tired eyes,
seeking food for my thought, the great cure
for my hunger, live for the kill, high praise;

spotted deers loom, striped tigers roam free,
the very game I seek, tempting, yet I sit so still,
seeing hazily from my hidden perch in tree,
for my hunt different, solely forged by my will;

the forest brighter now in thin filtered rays,
my mind clearer and eyes fresher from nap,
all the loss, pain, far away those rainy days,
a clear plan, great effort, for this final step;

naming adventure, few kill a tiger, few kill a deer,
I seek selfie with them animals, sipping a mug of beer.

I Vainly

I vainly scribble passing lonely time,
not poems, rather heart’s tired furlong,
no meter, symbol, rhythm, true in song,
unable to call it poem, call it rhyme,
to test my mettle, tried to meter chime,
yet what ever I did, it just went wrong,
no Keats or Frost, am slow, yet surely strong,
for dirty worm does spring a silk sublime;

the meter, rhythm, did capture song, not heart,
I know its lack of talent, those great go high,
in nature, people, vested little my dart,
then what can I ever write about nigh,
oh, little dewy drops of wondrous thought,
what shape, what words, will carry you away.

Smart phones

Smart phones, smarter people, blazing rocket,
smiley faces, happy hearts, babies held high,
working hard, ambitions unmindful of sweat,
helping near, dear and those afar, or do try;

proud to be amidst today’s jolly good fellows,
women today, strong as oak, sweet as honey,
painting bright picture, truth is cranky life goes,
on its own, high or low, with or without money;

yet the fine tuned trumpets blow a happy tune,
there is a chasm, wars, poverty, near and far,
these kind, do their part even in that dune,
moving world, giving food, comfort, what care;

those on the pavement, salute your pace,
remember they’re humans too, not a different race.

A distant shimmer

A distant shimmer, snowy mountain caps,
all just glorious words in this empty mind,
never went far, farthest I went were stars,
never danced in the wind, never did unwind;

never known true love from a girl,
never found any, to call her my true love,
alone I travel inside my mind in a twirl,
never shared sweetness, couldn’t rise above;

never independent, follow rules for money,
couldn’t do thoughtless work, way unstable, half filled pockets, little pride, home’s mercy,
all love me, yet can’t help judge, Oh! the label;

ha! fooled you, money, leisure is pure pleasure,
but the heart beat cries for freedom’s treasure.


Unkempt, haggard, black beard and red shirt,
a walk at a stagger through noisy, grimy traffic,
the city fast, bustling industry, vast spurt,
unshaven eyes see colourful wealth, graphic;

got no spouse or a cause to espouse,
faked a cause, shouted at man working,
there a man, without house, started barking,
in hope, to somehow, hustle to penthouse;

truly rich, the working, hut or sky scraper,
happy, the content, a roof for their family,
a child scribbling on walls is a true trooper,
sad like me, who can’t grow, forever hungrily;

I scribble for me, yet few others entwined,
please take us places, don’t leave us behind.