poems from past

Self, The Sovereign


Greetings to myself,

On this day you were born,
And now seem to feel forlorn;

Wish you were not born,
For life revealed thorns.

In the span of wishful years,
Which have gone full of tears;

Nature seems to be the only solace,
Attachments demand things pleasure.

Relations deter the mind of its peace,
Free are you to give everything in nature.

Sad, you never realise within,
And search for eternal liberty;

Forgt'in the beauty of being born
On a planet being continually torn.

Even if you are a miniature cosmos,
Hope is still the saviour of sovereign self.

you are the person, you are the planet!


***

Ageing and Angels


Of all things on travel and tranquility,
i learnt a few in a blue bodied train last night.

With wife on the lap and dew drops dripping by,
i sat silently thinking of the unknown journey ahead.

I 've seen never ageing at its best before,
in my hilly hometown below the blue sky.

A brave woman, bestowing and blessing,
was in the bed 'th beautiful beneath her wrinkles.

A battered body she wore with a belly
brimming to the brink with cancer cells.

Divine was her hands in giving,
Serene was her soul in grieving.

Never was she afraid;
neither for illness, nor for nothingness;

Beloved she remains;
by the sick bedside, beyond believes.

Aged is she, an angel, ain't not.
if not today, tomorrow, then.


***

Convictions, Common


Convinced I am,
At corrupt not continue,
Governing people Present.

Commoners we are,
Confused collectively,
Condemned to Custody.

Convicted they are,
On charges corruption,
Criminals yet Commanding.

Clear we are not ,
On civility & councils,
Clinging to Corruption.

Confined they are,
To cosiest confines,
Culprits yet Crusading.

Clever are they,
Chiding & cheating,
Commoners Carnivores.

Che, Come Again.