Gravity

Benches in the park speak to me the stories of the night,

The rumbling of the leaves pull the chords smelling of the flights,

Prized and possessed among the soothing sunlight of the yesteryears,

Laughing endlessly remembering the flickering yet futile sought off fears,

Running to catch the left overs of the hidden meanings,

Paying to play the poster on the wall to feel the shenanigans,

Losing all closely knit fears between the dots covering all the spots,

Staring blindly into the approaching voice, blinded by the fastening thoughts,

Entering the passage with the strength to catch the last air,

Rigged and weak the act itself was the demise of his lost flair,

Thud, and the scratches, left in the light, obsessed in the dark,

Rolling in the way, separated from the rest, resting under the stony bark,

Turn and burn, there is nothing left to pay for the fun,

All that was to be, that is, to craft in the was, is to run,

Patiently growing. waiting for the end to come, to the obvious truth,

It had to leave the bosom, one day finally, to be called, fruit!

Scrambled Love

Yet another day to mark the glorified end, shining,
The beginning in the start had its own charm, captivating,
So matching the energy of the self lived up to the charm,
Wonder ever nothing could happen do any harm,

Cradling inside out of the narrow hole,
Blocking through the windows there are souls whole,
For that withering within the leaves are yet to be blown,
So what, dance, dance all the way to the corners unknown

And then when she raises the head above out of the glass she held,
The air bent to the shiniest glow captured raisins in the bend,
Dimensions of the afterglow captured inside the smile,
Rising slowly with her mist and the hidden cries,

The rapture and the true spirit of the lost river,
I ran to her to carry the smile she had kept in her bosom,
It was the nocturnal moment of the divine pacifications,
Covered in so many yet so faked love emotions.

Its the dust that covers the smile that was long last amidst the crude memories.

Dry Pulp

Marred by the expectations of the early trailer,
Picture that seemed so soft and free was not so appealing,
Yet when running to the hill to catch the glimpse of the sun,
You try so hard to squeeze every bit the hard earned fun,

Overpowering and similarly captivating the calling,
Run through to the maze by the that flawless upbringing,
No matter how strong the fragrance of the bite was,
It was covered in the dead beat of the heavy smile,

Uptight and just about to feel the way right,
Way to put forward in my senses was everytime a new fight,
Figurines and depictions of the thought of world justified,
It was not the finishing touch not so exemplified,

All about the presence and all about the being you,
Excitement and anger turning the red in the blue,
Coupled into the palette with many thoughts,
Strike the hammer before its too late to die in the drought.

Measured in Love

Countering the glooming happiness over the fretted clouds,
Undermining in the deep shadows are left within the peddling shrouds,
Uproarious and unsettling thoughts jumped all around the moat,
Measured in units of love to draw the ladder from her boat.

Richness in the thick skin to pierce within the smile,
Following the racing air out of words was becoming agile,
A merciful glance and the soft touch compensated the burden,
It was much more than to it than to the sought of hurdle,

Hoping to set the pace right, again, only not to nauseate this time,
Chaos was not an option, not loving her was the biggest crime,
Clamped back to how perfect it was or  rather how it seemed,
It was always there for I was blind to see how it appealed,

How it begins, and blossoms in to the sweet bosom of the smiles,
Without any fret, It was the same love ready for the miles,
It was the gold I struck within the mines full of dirt,
Just the way to feel every day as a new birth.

Scarlet Massacre

Hand me to the laid graves,
Lie beside me till I reach to the closure,
Throw behind the left overs of the moments,
The wondered melodies so soft are so penchant,

Displacing the water filled with all the weight of doings,
Craving hard to shrug off any chance of wrong upbringings,
Top it up let it spill to the broken stairs,
Ill be watching over the dance through my empty chair,

One to the top and two the bottom of the well,
Touching the ear with warm hands where the thoughts dwell,
Swiped insignificantly the last of the dropped wine of the table,
Horses were massacred happily in the dreamy stable,

Sometimes that left this open in their enclosure,
Waiting to be wrapped in the blanket of guilt with pleasure,
All amazed by the shining red light of the decision,
I am all alone with the broken knife and her precision,

Surreal Surrender

Got to admit the pony wasn’t small for the fight,

The pants got stuck in the hooves and it wasn’t too tight,

Riding sky high it was the moment for nothing to loose,

Concealing in the shade I was running behind my muse,

High and rise bending the back to the last and to the finish,

Race was just the beginning of the journey, that left the pony astonished,

TO crave for the miles and to let them be,

There was a never ending spirit, was let free,

Miles to cover under the heavy notion of the rest,

Instead of covering the ground movement in to a test,

Head up high in resting in the stars laying awake the grave,

The moment reminded of the patience and the everlasting crave,

To break dawn into million pieces and to resolve the one sitting on the top,

Carrying the shoulders with the fragments to that last stop,

There was a lost admiration of the thoughts of the covered ground,

Symphony and its surreal surrender of that beautiful sound.

Eyes that Lie

For the many strokes raised on the brush,

The wine was so strong to push for the rush,

The knife went to tight to put a fight for the right,

And I want to put of the discontinuation of that tight, the conclusion had its own might. 

Standing in line virtuous of the reality good god bring light on thee,

For eternity cant be staggered to bring light to make us free,

Steeper we dance and plenty we aim to quench the thirst of the love,

It rises above the flames in the bones of contention of the rising dove,

Docked beneath the bosom of your love and the madness,

Human after all which we perceive to the truth and happiness,

Hello, lets dive in the ocean and its pull and rinse our sins,

Wash away to the shore with arms fresh with newly built fins!!!

Breathe within, built the holes in whole to bite the fruit,

Subtle in the growth of the dominant feelings of the budding root,

Its all about the eyes in what you see,

For deep down we dive its life for what we perceive!!

Uphill Love

For if I could just wipe out the frowns you carry,

Burdens of the past that never let your happiness marry,

Selfish may be deemed unjust but the true oneself,

It was called love, clinging to the many masks on your shelf.

Deranged and then arranged are the memories that stay,

Shuffling in between times you become your own prey,

Sheets beneath the tears and the ears lend to the many years,

Deemed untrue to the standing tides waiting for answers

Stepping on the blunt ends of the unknown winds,

Blinded and soaked in the thoughts of the revival,

Stored in between the faint smiles building for your own arrival,

Blow away the thoughts with a new start,

Cradling a way out to the point of no return,

Storming into the clouds unannounced with no discern,

Cliched and rounded the cup was beginning to fill,

She started her fast paced climb up that hill

Hello

Fine print stretched on the linen,
Easy to slide the thought on the run,
The detail of the mark left had its glow,
The rusted demons let the mojo flow,

Dancing on clouds, reading through the fingers,
Mild glance through in between the leaves, the adjusted blur,
Piercing through the lines smeared by the rains,
The mist had its own smell spread in the sweet refrain,

Sharply smooth the smile left its mark,
The glance was to vivid to hear the bark,
Heavy, ordained and yet the disappointment,
Big details left out of the small entertainment,

Suavely quaint the reference of the meeting,
Beautiful to notice it was just way of greeting,
All in all the purpose of keeping the things was mellow,
All he/ they ever wanted was just to say hello!

Successful Defeat

Success is defined by the steps taken,

Or is it the cause of the heartless battles won?

Harder and harder trying to reach the top,

Eventually landing in rains on the wrong foot,

Putting life ahead of time,

Moving on inside was labelled a crime,

Hidden in the forests are the winds of leaves,

Forever we remained tied in the grasp of the divine.

The fragrance was too demeaning,

The lost love of the soul had left the mark,

Put on the mask on the hand to rest the face,

There will be light in the hidden shade.

The slow decay and the gradual transition,

Lead to the hardening of the soft evolution,

Crispy in the journey of this life,

There were many who lost the way before the last mile.

Gabagool

So fresh in the evening reaching the night to the fire,
Lips burning smacked with the raging desire,
Infectiously touching you inside out running warm and dry,
Pluck the flesh of yours, cling on and make me cry.

Heavy and hard to push the wind down the chamber,
The bellow was moving up and down to run the heat,
From the onset to the end, the face turned to amber,
Got to keep the volume softly tucked under the bed sheet,

Remnants of the thrusts trickling down the spine,
The ever so flowing bodily vapours burnt into spiffs of wine,
Into the cushions of desire and the great crave for the pains,
It’s hard to let go of you bound by the moment and those nasty chains,

Crushed under the bones of your force,
Grab me by the arms and saddle me like a horse,
For the wait is too long to supress the pressure under my feet,
Raunching on to the moments the softness could justify the never ending feast.

Ballooning

Wake up and push the blanket to the edge of the bed,

Crawl out of the system and sip the water you just been fed,

Slip inside the cave build to fit your feet.

It’s the walk, the slow movement of the death march of the day.

Hideous the motion of the moment callous to the beholder,

Simple to run than to hold the danger close to the heart,

Beating fanatically the base withholding the ears,

The sound flashed every pulsating seconds of the lost years,

Careless to the rhythm of the beating pause,

Lusted upon the dangers of the cravings and the wild cause,

Gallant the brave soul who marched to the gallows of the brothels,

The rush of the blood was too damp to fit in their skulls,

Wooden clamps and the hard earned midnight reading lamps,

All covered with the dust of blood from the refugee camps,

Still ignited by the thought of a war looming over my head,

The hunch of the madness covered in the dream wrapped on my bed.

Gloomy Eyes

Passages into the book of leaves,

Crusted and dusted within those trees,

Following within the pages of leaflets,

The veins runs high & dry fighting its presence to be free,

Within the adjusted fairness mapped to the senses,

Lost within time connecting bridges that overlook the dark forces,

Shadows of time built upon the castles of lust,

On a quest to wipe out history unrest under, years of dust,

Risk of getting burst under imminent force of emotions,

Isolating the wrong things in the right way to hide the devil's expressions,

Weary the threads of time, bound faintly to the ground,

Sense lost and crushed, no matter how the effect was, the jungle made no sound,

Distant edgy lights dimmed the smiles,

Calls for the water to fall from the sky buried within the files,

Missed the opening of the weather in the high demands of war,

There is a lot to learn from the dead than to see what is not too far.

The Ballet

Dancers on the road, pulling the magic off the feet,

Rising the bottle in the air, crash and burn the hall is lit so sweet,

Swinging up and down, shaking the air around with the force of the heavy sweat,

Beat the emotion around and cut any sort of past and its threat.

The heart so light, the wings spread in the light end of the wind,

Movement so careful, can hear the pretty white light rescind,

All the hopes buttered down to the lanes, took a while to process,

Glass shattered in the moment, the thoughts broke and took a recess.

My call, my taking, living up to the heavy feeling and the blood shot,

To the pulse of the last few drops, and the head sinking in the pot,

Painting the picture beautifully. these thoughts came so random,

Every page stacked and pressed, blew the faces in a dignified tandem,

The push, drift back and the pull, swinging and panting, drawing heavy air,

Pick a fight and drop the coins on the floors, feel her hair,

Move her down, to your arms, cradle her to her grave,

Run the hands, cover the holes, and blind the eyes, don’t be afraid,

Amazed

Jumping around the caves, in the dark nightmare,
Staring the standing cows pushed in the wall,
Sneezing in the winds blowing dust running for a cover,
The pattern was laid on the floor to crawl,

The snoring lights and blazing sounds,
Turned the heaviest defeats in to the dawn and dusted fights,
The uprooted caravan and the carcass of death scattered,
Flocked the love machine into lust of search,

Waltzing into the maze left amazed to question,
Swallow the fear hidden in the corner of the room,
Just as the statues answered the silent call,
Sit tight and wait for the gentle scream to rise,

Nicer the imaginations of the red roses and sweet smell,
Crushed within the rusts of the time tested disappointments,
How amazing the feeling settled on the top shelf,
Left alone to rot in the space made by the time-travelled arrests,

Flock of birds and marriage of words slow death by the bed,
Doped by the thought of fear in the cornered heart,
Docking the finest of troubles saved to destroy the set pace,
Light fire to the debris of love, allow pain to be felt with grace,

Slippery Rope

Seeped inside of the cemetery gates in search for the dark shadow,
Fighting for answers to the problem, questions stuck on the tip of the arrow,
Pulled the string and hard felt thoughts came gushing out,
The shadow has cast a long dark spell to kill any kind of doubt.

Slipping into coma, many a year went lost in search for hope,
The beginning of the new morning sun light and kept hanging on to the rope,
For the chance went by, tried to climb on the top found the graves in dust,
Thought for a fresh battle, took the blade out to saw covered in aged rust.
 

And then there you are hiding behind the fallen leaves of the building,
Greyed out by the passing by wind and the turbulence of the nasty upbringing,
Insomnious by the obvious fact that the vision had a serious flaw,
It was kept under the bridge as the writer was struck in the mystic awe.
 

Ballooning out of the crowd, mobbed by his own thoughts sunk in the drought,
Chaos in the hours and the greatest strength helpless in the labyrinth of thoughts,
Elementary surprise at every foot step, hard earned glories washed away in every bite,
Threaded and loosely hanging the smile and the last gasp, it was time for one last fight.

Father

F.A.T.H.E.R

“Fraternizing Affection Together in a Heartful and Emotion-ed Heart”

Bound by the earth, in a land filled with dreams and aspirations clouded by the situations,

Can’t see the possible run for the money, left alone in family to nurture the apprehensions,

Million dreams, gasped within and washed away by the blinding lights of the hustling youth,

Fading away the thought of big dreams in the big city alone left covered by the million truths,

Rinsed in the dirt from the young, heart pumping to get cleanse the layers of unwanted faces,

Struggled hard to jump out of the big lights to a city of fresh life and a new partner and tough times,

Faint beginnings and edgy leaps, pacing slowly to make road for the life, mimicking the aces,

Principles and high emotions marked the ability to roll along easy in time of tough tides,

Fathering a new life, in the tight situations and big dreams, with limitations stronger than steel,

Never kept the pockets empty, kept the dreams alive, with sacrifices keeping his life on the heel,

Father to a son, husband to a wife, brother to all for in any time of needs,

Loved and called by all gratifying the magnitude of his patience rendered by his incomparable deeds,

Moulded day by day to the new struggles and sweet memories, learned his way out of the rough,

Standing this day to the more to come, personified by the aura, marathon of this life made him tough,

With the age falling on, the grey hair, reaching a new height of the castle you’ve built out of hard-earned pieces,

Happy Birthday Narinder Mohan, for this life isn’t big enough for your love and the awaiting prizes.

Stuck in the Middle

And yet again, it happened, crashed and shook the dust of the ceiling,
Wrapped in the time bound happiness, inflicted by the accident of the broken wing,
And the motionless flight of my thoughts crashed against the wall,
How sad it was to burn and fall even though I was to crawl,

Multiple bruises and the latches that kept on reminding the pain,
It was all dark around me and what was left of me was a smile swallowed in vain,
Redemption in the sweet songs of the stories left behind by the dead,
Foolish thoughts of a dreamer, better be left alone instead,

Tantalizingly the wicked nature of the sufferings obnoxiously sweet,
Running around the same path endlessly in a flash to keep it all discreet,
Slipping secretly the wishes and the notes below the lost ground,
It was the last chance, commissioned into the game, between the love lost and found,

The tickling feeling and the smile brought by the touch,
Touch of hers and the cracking of the mind that hadn't lost much,
Ringing bells in the air echoing in my breathe melancholy,
The battle was hung in the thoughts of hers that were begging to be free

Dancing in the Rains

Deep behind the branches, lost in the amaze of the transcendence of the sun,
There lay rest the shadows of those moments and the hidden fun,
Amidst all the odds, the gazelle was free within the boundaries,
Spirited, wild and free, ran across the jungle to catch a glimpse of the frivolities,

Laying off to the turns of the waves of the center lake,
Sipping the thirst momentously with the thought of a much needed break,
Miracles and the constant efforts of fighting the way through,
The game was ongoing and the sufferings were a result the chances he blew,

The glared bridge beyond the trees through the passage of darkness,
Contemplating between the inner desires and strings that bind the lives aimless,
Fielding the love, yet insipid, lacking the essence of the lost times,
The heart had become too weak to battle the self inflicted crimes,

A stray walk, crunching the leaves, and collecting the air as chances went by,
Laying the dead to rest, detest and arrest the thought to die,
The story had yet to be written, free to snap up the chains,
For he could understand the real joy of dancing in the rains.

Abstract Absurdness

Figurines and the twisted metals coming out of the detailing,
The rusted and the dusted agonizing presence of the clock ticking,
Imagine the racing of the witches besides the open windows,
This was the final count of the opportunity and how the time froze.

Spool of the wool left lying around the room, hanging by the balance,
It was the randomness of the owner and the constant fight with his hidden arrogance,
Rage and filled within that dying age, knowingly generated chaos,
Twisted by the moment, the disturbed yet so near perfect is the timeless gloss.

Obliterating any chances of liquidating the presence of energy,
Effigizing the remains that were left behind of the hapless strategy,
Marauding the efforts of the others and the leftovers of the fight,
Madness, purity and the smoothness that brought an end to the blinding light,

Slowly swaying and fading away the after effects of the air,
Dancing to the tunes of the puzzles left behind with that cold stare,
Slayed and butchered inside the hall and left to wandered within that maze,
Carrying on from the loss, his clock was stuck since the start, on her haze.