Please...Never Again

When the lamps are shattered,
And the doors are shut,
In marches he,
With cruel intentions,
Hands enough to cover her mouth
Power adequate to keep her from shout
Scratching, shrieking, and trying to get away,
She looks helpless as he gets it his way
After he’s done with his routine act,
He asks her to sign a silence pact
All her pleas and shouts go in vain
She cries, “Please Daddy! Never Again”

Crescendo

Of black keys running over white,
Of insects in the night
Of toms, cymbals and snares,
Of early morning prayers
Of orchestrated strings,
Of raindrops and fluttering wings
Of a vocalist and his tunes
Of winds flying over sand dunes
Of crash, boom & bang
Of formal, of slang
Of bells and gongs,
Of campfire songs,
Sounds here and there,
Rhythm everywhere
From large audience feats,
To metronomic heart beats
From hollow wooden flutes
To marching army boots
From brass French horns
To after-death mourns
Constantly playing, never ending
Beats ascending and descending
All situations, any emotion,
All regions, any nation.
On it, we all thrive,
Music makes you feel alive.

Vision

This is by far the best thing I`ve written. The reason being, I was asked to write a poem on the blind by a friend, and I could do it. Normally, I write only on incidents that happen to me or inspire me to write. Hope you like it....the confessions of a blind man...

Vision

Darkness behind the glasses,
I see no classes, no masses,
No religion, no creed,
No modesty, no greed
A touch is all I need
No one for me is high, no one low,
I don’t lead, I don’t follow
The feeling of imagination
The feeling of interpretation
The feeling is my eye
The feeling that doesn’t lie
I need no prescription
What works for me is description
No remorse, no regrets
Someone loses someone gets.
Defected, deflected, Neglected
That’s what they think I am.
I’d explain to them if I could,
I’ve been misunderstood.
About me, they have wrong notions,
I can’t shed tears, but I have emotions
My hopes are equally high and I have a big mission.
I don’t have eyes, I have the Vision.

Nice Ads

A few creative ads...Advertisement, according to me, should be given the status of an Art....the 8th Art after Literature, Sculpture, Music, Painting, Drama, Photography and Cinema.

One Life to Live

When cows drink their own milk,
When worms tear their own silk,
Night duties, if the moon hates,
Calendars that show their own dates,
When Doctors become killers,
When performers become seat-fillers,
Survival in the fast lane,
Tires me, I go insane,
We seem to have forgotten,
What happens when?
Dogs bite their own kin,
Priests wipe out their own sin,
Life is ours to live it up,
Sword-like words, just give it up
Happiness would flow if we remembered,
Each one’s days are numbered.

Castles in the Air

A city that’ll never sleep,
No one by you, when you weep
Where in this herd of sheep
All my thoughts I keep?
Show me a plot,
Show me a place,
Show me where
I be in my own space?
Where I do my own construction
With no alien obstruction
A piece of ground is all I need,
Where I can sow that seed
Many venues I’ve seen,
To many plots I’ve been
Some weren’t just right
With the owners of a few, I had a fight
Now that exhaustion has taken over
I still long for cover
Tell me if you have land in spare
I’m tired of building castles in the air.

Killer Silence Takes Over

It’s that time of the year again,
He comes with the wind,
Goes with the rain
Comes in a hand cart,
Truck or a train

Days full of celebration
Nights full of illumination
Happiness in the air
The city’s like a fair

The sounds you hear are
Either from pune or nashik
This guy surely knows
How to enjoy through thin and thick

The day of his departure
Is full of joy and laughter
Till the next time he comes back
Killer silence takes over…