Bizzarre Poems

I met her few days ago In a beautiful garden May be a new friend though face was unknowable, but as if we were known to each other from time immemorial Innocent face, solemn lines on the forehead, eyes looked like

O flamingo, your pink is fading. Pick up the spirulina, it was caste-based. It hits there, where it hurts more. You were chasing, standing on one leg salt was dwindling in the lake. The stink unlike you is going to

Lying on the platform Bathed in my own blood Writhing in pain Eyes closing I know my life is coming to an end My voice hardly reaching my own ears I reach out my arms for help No head turns

Me, in my morning rush hour cook scrub and clean a nightingale amidst a concrete jungle screams and orders me to stop to listen to her melody ‘stop your chores, spare me your ear I thought you missed me’ my

I am a pretty little yellow lovebird I live in my hut like golden cage My feathers so beautiful It’s waterproof and has colourful plumage It’s my only home I do not want to fly away I get what I

Thou shall think twice before insulting him Your insult leads to his humiliation His humiliation will end up as a curse His curse will drive you to misery Your misery turns out to be Hell for you Hell that you

If I forget spring, bruise my face with grass to meld with soil in prescience of later ritual. If I forget summer, drip on my tongue the blood of fresh berries, and the insolent taste of mint. If I forget

You meet many people not all of them stay, Some forever, others a day, God will send them for as long as you need, To help you bloom by planting a seed. Each person brings with it a lesson to

The sting of the wind On this cold spring day Reminds me of my Ancestors who rode This same wind As they trudged to work On early shift. This connection, now, is In my blood Deep in what I mean

I feel all alone In a dark place with no sign of life Sign of life being happiness and love The dark place is in my head Cause I have created this place for myself to escape the reality The

Please tell me why I have to deny I cannot verify the one thing I try that makes me high Please tell me why I have to defy I cannot rely on that which will satisfy keeping me from this

To raise myself little by little up to the blackbird’s nest already forgotten by God my long hair more and more rough and salty to wrap it around the bird as if a dry tree’s twigs to feed it from

Green earth, blue sky, sapphire sea Longtime a home for life to be Mother of all a vibrant womb Her children awry seal her doom Vast oceans the life-blood of all From its depths the first life did crawl What’s

Christmas December comes Everything in market is labeled Special discounts display on Packs and boxes of gifts Colorful nights light up Children look for Santa Claus Christmas bazaar invites Christmas trees as well to be sold Children want a tree

Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the gardens trod, We’ll stroll along the springs and brook, On to some hidden cozy nook; Red roses by your neck I’ll hang, We’ll walk on grass that’s

He is the darling of my life, The sweetest, yet sometimes the sourest I still have the vibe of love in me The one which I had first The day I met you… I saw a brother in you My

A scent of fresh glowing flowers graced the room Noting an expression of optimism on one’s face Swifted the day with an agile grace Having motioned by a thought Engulfed by confidence Incredible imagination running rampant Ideas tendered by success

Family first, And old saying, As if from a western, Almost sounds rehearsed. Yet when I tip my cap, On this dusty afternoon, I appreciate the folks, Whom without life’s a lonely moon. When carrying across, Metaphorical plains, Dry and

Heart filled with hate Blood cold as a winter night Forgotten by Jesus Raped by a demon Innocence was stolen At a young age, Eyes are swollen How can I forgive? I pray but my sins are too great To

Cuddled under a warm, toasty quilt, Chewing on a bag of gummy bears with no guilt. Making the perfect mud cake, Watching the sunlight glisten off a lake. Letting myself go insane, To fight all things mundane. Cooking a delightful

You were so sweet and gentle; so warm and so caring You were drenched with heavenly drops of honey. Even when our lives were sad and cloudy, you filled it with hope and sunshine You had many reasons to be

You are not with yourself today. Conversation was stopped, from cloud to cloud. Now you know what you did not want to know. No longer the pathless destiny, comes near you, you go towards the bushes to collect the ash,

How I wish, I could, Break away from all shackles That bog me down, And fly in the expanse of the sky. Free to express myself, Without fear of being judged, To free my soul, Of all my thwarted words.

Bilobed ginkgo resolves the conflict of soul and body on the right side of truth, laid out on a table visited by desolation; here comes the crash of bodies. You stand up against the end of beginning to lock eyes

Full to the burst, then some more; mass tending to infinity, space shrunk to a bore. Milked by human greed, coerced by animal need; bodies cursed, souls crushed, cattle to the daily slaughter. Past imperfect, future tense, Tomorrow = yesterday;

Down from Helsinki Late night walks on The beach of the Gulf Of Bothnia Sea, Me And My Baby, although the Sky is starless and there Is a strong breeze from Out of the south coming Quickly, we are lost

You. You haunt my dreams, Kill my pride; I couldn’t tell that you Lied. “I love you ” You didn’t love me, You used me And now I sit Every morning adding A little more milk To my coffee So

Why is it so difficult to convince The Heart, That feelings nowadays are sold at The Mart. Ventured into The Mart, in hand The Heart, And In tow, a shopping cart. Trust was on sale in a neat pack, Came

We the highest of God’s creation we the knower of many, the holders of the eternal flame of knowledge. Universe still unrolling its sacred secrets. is it this pride which made us blind? so blind that no light permeates our

When morose cloud mourns why it showers heavy rains it sheds tears of melancholy to me why it hurts and pains when the uncle sun is furious why it excretes red fireballs its heat scorches all creators every one prays

Birth of an infant is akin to that of a plant combination of sperm count results in formation of an infant planting of the seed and nurturing it results in creation of plant Infant grows in the womb of mother

This demon has seduced your inner being open the windows of your soul look before the darkness consumes your very existence draining every source of energy turning the mirror on yourself becoming lost in this unbearable reality be quick! before

A transient smile lights up a moonless landscape, catalyzing the woes of labour of hot arguments. A fragile peace prevails. When the plot thickens let me count the bodies in the domain of a wasted god. Meanwhile I will get

I miss you everyday Someone else taking your place No way. To the world the only memory of you is me miscarrying you. For me your memories will be forever of me carrying you. You were not just a part

I don’t belong to me, to you, to her, to him. Who are you, I ask myself again falling in love for a tender shoot, uncoiling under the debris of unfaithful corners? I was watching a small birdie hopping against

Dear Pain, Thank You……………….. For holding me in your soft hands when the mundane world ditched me, For caressing my untouched soul when the crooked world shot poison leaded arrows at me, For standing with me and facing the brunt

It twitched on the day when clouds were born the day when the fool notion of gender, took a flight the poll was asked, changing lives to monstrosity … Are you a man, or a woman? a gay, a bisexual

Today I want to take a lethal dose of black lips, confronting the killer on contract. Time dithers to escort. May be a cold-blooded murder of a handful of sick shadows will give a transparent memory. Planting a sad kiss

Here come the lights, what’s that I see? New blocks rising, no sympathizing, progress must be made, Here come the machines to take over from the spades, churning up the history, now to remain a mystery, that doesn’t matter, we