Posted in Poem

Words

Do not think too much of words spoken,
For seldom they come from the heart.

Wait for few moments before you feel hurt;
To react may not be smart.

How people treat me is important
But learning to feel others feeling is an art.

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Posted in Poem

Two Words

On an usual summer evening,
Two Words met at a crossroad.
They thought, they knew each other,
But did not know the other’s abode.

Were they surprised at this encounter
Or was just another meeting, who knows!
They stood there stiff not knowing what to say,
Stealing a look now and then as the night arose.

Who knew the paradoxes of life will met
On an inglorious summer evening.
But then, is it not life filled with such
Unceremonious dates till end, from beginning?

The flow of thoughts is incomplete here (may be sometime later I may take it to “logical conclusion”)… but then it is complete too.  Is it not the paradox of life (or may be thought) evident here? (one says complete, the other says incomplete :-))

Posted in Poem

Words, Words & Only Words Do I Have

Do words, that float
in our mind and
that trickle
down our lips,
tell the truth?

Do words know
what they say
or do we know?

We love them
so we use them
or misuse them?

We want to say
what we mean but
mostly we do not
mean what we say!

We repent for saying
what not to be said
and for not saying what
ought to be said.

Words are most used
but least understood.

Someone loves me
and I love someone
because words say so!

Words have fought battles.
Words have killed peoples.
Words have made kings.
And words do make fools.

Words, words and only
words do I have
but no meaning.

Posted in Poem

Where…I

Where words fall short
and the heart melts.
Where mind races high,
into deep faults.
Where vision fails and
the journey halts.

Where I feel not any
exuberance or high.
Where proximity is bliss
with inevitability to die.
Where nocturnal feelings
bear the brunt and sigh.

Where heat is frozen
and mist transparent.
Where faith falls and does
something incoherent.
Where rain is not cheered
and the wets are torment.

Where love is to die
in the depth unheard.
Where drops of water are
nothing but one in herd.
Where going gets tough
the belief sounds absurd.

Where emptiness rules the
caverns of rough weather.
Where vague is the disguise
of fermenting heather.
Where calmness dies the death,
laughs loud the coarse soother.