The rain patters in monsoon night Its monotone no lullaby It’s not the moist air that chokes It’s not the bug that lurks In languor I long for you Darkness states your absence And the rain mourns it I seek sleep to be with you These days of love unrequited These nights of love imagined I blank out, at last with you.
Hopeless romantic, grounded realist, eternal optimist, brooding pessimist. All these are me. I am all of them. When I referenced my diaries for poems written decades (1985-99) ago, I was surprised to find that most related to either Love or Death. I was even more surprised to discover that, with a quick change here and there, many of them could be interchanged to reflect either. It was in this way that I discovered in myself the obsession that Sigmund Freud labelled as Eros and Thanatos, a theme that has fascinated thinkers, poets and writers for centuries. Here you will find Eros and Thanatos and a bit of Philos in between.
The wait is finally over Time to experience a complete makeover Amidst the thunder raindrops will be drippin’ Turning dusty leaves fresh and green ”I’m the sole power”, thought the summer heat Through tiny drops of water it faced defeat
(1) Clouds carry water drought and starvation missing A healthy monsoon (2) Farmers celebrate good crops bring prosperity monsoon being friendly (3) Peacock enjoys dance waterlogged everywhere a happy monsoon (4) Darkness in the sky rain droplets seduce climate monsoon
When first shower of monsoon Touched the emotions Of my innocent heart Its strings began to ring Drops of rain began to open The windows of my heart And with its tender touch Heart began to pour out Pearls of
When the head begin to reel under the burning sun When the tongue gets dried up in the scorching sun When the body spills sweat like floods due to heat of the Sun When the life become unbearable by the