Tag Archives: Writing

usefulness

usefulness.

I am not writing about
anything of nothing we shared
Didn’t you always blame
for causing no inconvenience?

Just peacefully rest
in my foolish imaginations
like broken pieces of dreams
scattered everywhere.

They’re the right toys,you know
for passing each moment
of my leisurely hours,
too useful to me, somehow.

via usefulness.

Where’s money?

Where’s money?

But where’s money?
When ultimately
you come to this question
my poetry silently walks away.

No moon, no star
no bird, no flower
no sky, no mountain
can truly make her smile.

Hurt, wounded
disappointed and sad
now she thinks for hours
what is her real value on earth?

For hours and days
sometime even for weeks
she doesn’t feel easy to come near
because she earns no real money for me.

via Where’s money?.

and I became a child again

and I became a child again.

Recently when I got a week full
having no hurry to carry
my children for tuition
or to carry my self to the office
I thought it would be all better
to take leave from
the all poetry too.

My prayer sincere I found
was sanctioned
as I didn’t feel
much pressure from my pen to write
more and more poems
like a sales person dying
for achieving the sales target.

The ring tone of my poetry
is basically sad
and I know that
my poems are lava of
my erupting unhappiness.
So, I had no pressure to write means
I was feeling happy.

That’s the secret
I am trying to share with you
that searching readable in book self
I explored and read stories of Birbal
a courtier both wise and witty
of the Mughal Emperor, Akbar
enjoying almost like a child, once again.

via and I became a child again.

The pen which can sleep for a year

The pen which can sleep for a year.

The pen decided to sleep
at least for a year
and except for once
when it woke up for a cry
the pen enjoyed
a painless time.

Let the gift of freedom
even not to write
anything at all
be fully enjoyed
(even) by the pen
unless it feels otherwise.

via The pen which can sleep for a year.