Aviation Poems

You will dwell in the sky, Sky is not the limit for you You were born to fly, See the world through eagle’s eye Leave your troubles on land, Take off against the winds Vistas of sky from cockpit will

“Who thinks tempests dance too quickly?” Asked the Master, moustache thickly Brimming, bristling with indignation, “Consign the lepers to damnation! None may tarry here who can’t Wield a terror so puissant That all the diseased vermin flee In the dread

The hustle and bustle at the airport Some rushing, frantically searching for passport Mothers’ tearful goodbyes, Trying their best not to cry Sudden announcements from overhead speakers A crowd starts moving like follow the leader Pilot with crew in tow

Call Of An Unborn Daughter To Dad Dad I am your guiltless and innocent unborn daughter who is anxious to step in your house will you please give birth to your daughter Will you be happy on my arrival probably

What is it’s essence? Is it like a vulnerable, Hemingway-portrayed skiff being tossed about by changing waves of feelings, urges, yearning? Is it like a spoilt compass, it’s nervous needle half-trembling, rotating in illogical, unscientific, fickle-minded fashion, unable to be

I’ve danced on many worlds, and will on many more. Each have proven unique, with many lessons to learn. I’ve traveled far but have farther still to go. The road is long and tiresome, with many falling and failing to

Oh my dear wife, the light in my life I argue with you without provocation but you calm me down with adulation I agree to disagree with you for no reason but your smile makes me agree to you in

I can’t recall the people on the train from Delhi to Jammu. I don’t retain their style of dress, their speech or anything. All I can see is the bob of the telephone lines where roller birds regard the country

I said good night to you, and went into deep sleep.. I woke up early in the morning, rubbed my eyes not to flip.. I found only one thing there, still waiting for me .. still looking at me.. just

The Joy of Bing Skits zoid When just a whippersnapper of a little boy Me late mum and octogenarian pop agreed For doctor removal of my adenoid Less to prevent their only son from being coy Than fear of said

Pretend to be civil, For unrest is familiar, Actions by the shrivel, Accompanied by the peculiar. Tell me lies, And truth will follow, Straighten the ties, That bind you so hollow. Swayed by blindness, In love or thereafter, Washed out

Desperate to be well My guts were manufacturing Barbed wire and I could feel Every yank of the sibling strands Grating of their braiding Bite of each marital point As the barbs were pinched Onto the endless line. Later, on

The bygone art, a dead shrine; Thou not dead, thou live… shall live By art of carve that plays on and will it play Forever, timeless, in century’s lap The beauty, thou struck me a year back: So calm, so

I awake to the gloom of a cloud covered sky, There’s a dampness that floats with the air. A stillness and peace has enveloped my world, And I don’t see a soul anywhere. You can already smell the rain on

Oh deep, dark depression, my uninvited guest, the persistence of oppression is precluding my life’s zest. The dark before sunrise of a dawn that just won’t break, suppressed by a thirst for my soul that only sorrow can now slake.

Take my soul and watch it burn. Thee shall not be afraid of the flames that surrounds the earth. I only seek revenge on those who my trust betrayed. A minute more not to waste. They shall run. I will

Little was I aware of what demonetisation was all about I was in eve possessing few of brand new notes of 500 and 1000 denominations When the news tricked in that the currency of 500 and 1000 notes are no

The wind writes a name on the clouds and sun wipes out the letters. This game continues daily. coming into life after every death. Exhausted I want to believe and make up my mind to go for a new birth.

Besieged by dreams that never end Or rebel, because they were forgotten, The despair takes me under her wing. Everything I learned until evening Becomes the seed of the regret that it’s in vain, That I should know it even

From the unread book I look back at three generations, with whom I was fighting for a staircase, which did not take me anywhere. It was an edge over the wisdom for footfalls in space for an apology for an

“I AM GOD’S CREATION – A SOUL” Can anyone tell, “Who am I?” What am I doing on this Mother Earth? I wish, someone could answer this question of mine! Can anyone tell, “where did I spring from?” And for

Every night by candlelight I go to you on the wings of a Firebird and you are there waiting for me in your red cape where fire burns outside the snow… you reach out for me without saying a word,

That blurred evening light Coming from my windows Instilling unusual sensations, Making places for solace and sorrow. That blurred evening light, Filling my room with colours unseen. Gifting moments of bliss, Laying down unspoken pains. That glorious evening light- Occupying

They said something was wrong with my mind Treating my “disorder” like a disease, how could they have been so blind? It was never that simple, the problem lurked deeper Never mind the blood and tears, it lay within the

She steps into the world UNwanted As a child She can’t differentiate herself from Boys On her Teens shyness creep in and she distances from adolescent boys On crossing the Teens maturity dawns in and dreams of an appropriate life

Beyond Death we cannot think Under the Bridge we go blind Not thinking I reach out my hand Until His hand takes mine. I’ll go through Life hopeful Thoughtless of things I will say Little known places, people, ideas Shaken

It was bound to slip away, revealing more than you would have them know The farce so painstakingly layered to present a you even you wouldn’t recognise, A you, that you never intended to show. There is too much covered

I live in the cabin up in the woods Where the river winds its way through the oaks Wild squirrels racing on the rosewoods My hound sits by receiving backstrokes I love lilies but more of red roses Stuck in

Live life not with cowardice But live it heroically Heroism needs no trumpet Nor does it need a stunning physique Heroism is bejewelled In simplicity Heroism does not boast Heroism never condescends Heroism takes care Heroism does not mean being

Been climbing every mountain And crossing every stream Been dreaming of this pleasant land And of things I’ve never seen Been hanging onto cliff tops Been wobbling on the bridge Been stuck in every canyon And jammed in every ridge

Flicking through the paper an advert caught my eye, I hesitated slightly as I almost read right by, “Space Cadets required all across the nation” The job was made for me so I sent off my application. “Experience required” I

It’s just the way the world spins Things are never the same again Once a heart is broken it is never the same You can try and make those changes Try to get it back as it was But the

Being Alive is to feel the breath…that cannot be felt after the death… Being Alive is to feel yourself beyond the senses…that capture your spirit in all the instances… Being Alive is to feel the real you…feeling the consciousness, pruning

As within, is without So simple to find that out Are you so pale? Examine every detail Once you are alert Watchful and smart Junk food you intake The law you break Is your guiding voice A terrible choice The

After all the heartbreaks, and the suicidal thoughts within her mind. SHE WAS FINALLY HAPPY!! As she remembered the 128 times she got raped. The times evil boys said ”I LOVE YOU” — eventhough their word were fake. SHE WAS

the heart composes dark symphonies the mind rejoinders: “Equipoise” the world is not so old yet nothing has to be there is no Death only Life the pursuit of handsome men of handsome women the fact of earth the illusion

We are no different You and I I saw your fingers hesitate to pull the trigger on innocent satyagrahis And when you did, you shut your eyes tight You saw me lift the weightless body of my son And when

Staring out of window admiring nature’s awe Picture full of perfection sans single evident flaw Indolent tepid sunshine streaks daubed with gold As if time has stood still to treasure and behold A lone cloud high above seemingly gone astray

A moment of pause was needed in the eerie lull after the gathering of dreams, to enter the corridor of voices. We stopped looking through our tongues, across the bitterness of burning river, after the mud in our eyes. The

It was dark Around my house Around the Valley Around the place Why was it Was it because of night Was it because of blackout Was it because of new moon None of these But because I was blind Suddenly