I stood on the over-bridge, yellow phosphorescence beckons– Round moon like bosom of goddess Venus , nipple for a touch; a lapwing cries over the night. A sudden rustle in the undergrowth awakened the ephemeral days of my youth, fallen from twig twirled on the dirt .
I left the classes,, the roads and highways meaningless ennui, Listless country, sometimes glimmered a magic reality– a spike of mountain at horizon flashed like her naked gorgeous flank This boozing did not burn my heart–such was the loneliness, such was the dream. someone went away with swinging lantern, I knew he would not come back again.
Darkness at the heart of darkness, then again darkness like a baby in the womb, he grew into a child, dove in the swirling water, he is a nameless pang in the wind of my being. My defeat rises again like a night-bird.
Oh, my horizon kissing death, my lust for a life, at the dusk on that dune rain fell like a quivering dream, my dear, I woke in the witching hour, your eyes met mine.
Poet’s Note: I contemplated about this poem while standing alone on a bridge. It is, I think, a mystic poem containing memory of my adolescence.
I am interested in literature, music and philosophy. Actually i am bent on keeping myself updated on all sorts subjects so that I can put my fingers on the pulsating life.I like to talk with like-minded . life is too short and too long. I am now a writer-completed and working on several literary works and a fiction.
Clinging to fragments of memories, I search for love here and there, Walking the shores of eternal hope, But I sink in the sea of despair Just once, let me hear love speaking In a language known to no ear;
At least once in life do make a wish; not necessarily for returns, but for others an act of compassion; an offering.. more often it’ll be a reason to live life unconditionally… At least once in life do make an
A shimmer of light in the darkness of my thoughts, the rare moment that the grey skies clear away and I see my surroundings exactly how I should, these briefs moments serve as a testament for my survival, Bitter and
An average of 2,830 cubic meters per second of rich silt forms an alluvial plain that spreads outward in a fan shape from sedimentary deposit whereby ancient Egyptian civilizations got built adorning arid topography invaluable like the aorta pumping blood