Chaste Poems

A poem writes my name. I am trembling on paper like salt. Flowing like moon on the black wound. The lamb and the skull. I know the saint invented by masses. You need a fresh awakening. A vastness from nothing

How to begin the journey of truth? it was moving away from all paths. No concrete answers were there, questions loomed large, a moaning confusion reigned. I moved inward, to open the door, I had to talk to my poems.

I refuse to inherit cruel conditioning I will breathe my own bizarre air Call me a rebel if you wish I don’t deny, nor do I care Bare feet on filthy roads A brutal smile to each stranger I refuse

I belong to the song of the sun Humming the chants of flame I breathe. The sea rests in me motionless With its endless depths I think. Storms of being, clear the chaos Emptiness of chaste silence I hear. A

The flag unfurled, and from within, fresh rose petals Jauntily floated down like gently melting snow flakes. Soon, even the smell of freedom dissipated, losing its Way into the winding lanes and by lanes of our lives. Tell me, which

”You live in a queer world of dreams, Mr. Ahmed Turning odd imaginations to mere fancy words Bejeweled by baffling metaphors and similes That one mightn’t get the hang of with ease Why don’t you eschew the pesky rhyme rule,

My bafflement forces my day to waste, Shall I for them or for my eyes alone Or for a purpose yet abstruse, go on – Another serving of this bitter taste? Yes sinner I am trying to be chaste, fixated,

Let’s be swans in another life, Stand in peace side by side. Touch one another with eyes, Look chaste and princely white. Purity we will symbolize, When we spread up to rise, Become envoys from the skies And sing together

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

This bonded fear bids for power, Will I destroy myself in valley of puppets? War in dreams, of sins and morals of masked pretentions wears me off. Time rolls violently near the periphery, before it flies away. One chaste run

When my self , apart roams , My conscience recalls madam Marcelene Gomes. My teacher at St. Bartholomew’s school, Who taught us the virtuous rule. A fine and devoted teacher, Humanity and spiritual preacher. A woman of strict conduct, Employing

There once was an imp whose appearance was vain, his behavior was foolish, even his speech and imposing mannerisms were maimed! From those eastern cannibalistic lands afar he and his kind had once been blessed, indentured to serve the superlative

Audacity to live with your demons, putting up a fake love belief, who was the time, of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what I was not just putting up the shades of death into nothingness of peace in war.

profiling the divine phallus on terraced shrouds of fault the dilemma of arcane notation starts for that succultent rumours, emotively torn asunder, a green room becomes epiphanic, the voice was gone with black sun; buried onto neck in the drenched

Shedding the wholeness of negation you arrive: fear was sweeping the floor when smoke screen of love was hung on blue morning, you groped for a hidden coin, lost in the woods of mania. Distinguishing a chaste word, without thought,

Twined in time and silken shadow Bathed in light and blinded there Lost in rhyme on greenest meadow Confusion, sadness, a cross to bear Can time make end this never-ending? Can future lost e’er be replaced? Can past distort the

The crown he wore weighed him down, his uncertain tone wreathed As his face so stoic hid the storm that surged beneath Its not about my faith in you, for I know your morals are true I know you’re as

Urn was carring the snow unmelted like the soul of night. It was a very strange winter like araucaria puzzle. Who was dragging the evergreens over the chaste cliff? All the incogerent roots have broken the placenta for new gods.

sometime I watch the fear held aloft by you, possessed, you try to protect yourself from you in vain, very thirsty, white hydrangeas on your lips tremble, exhaust their need for clouds in blue eyes, pale fountain gives up tumult

Was it a summer storm of sexuality? Only the chaste statue stood in threads, and then went down the cuticle with nipple rings. The demand of namelessness was rising in the dim shadows of brisk tones. To step down from

A crooked slanting moon shifts the eye comes under the chaste tree and washes the tainted victory. Wolves start howling at the tomb of unknown martyr, man-eaters recoil on the sugar island and talk about destinies, A mourning crowd walks

At the end of the thought was sadness. When temple lies broken a little white lotus comes up on the tranquil lake. A cute word enters the lone voice, stands down, collapses, retreats into silence. A chaste tree becomes a

Waiting for a chaste bread, whole life under the moon, to speak off the inconsistency of happiness, with a monologue of a needle in eyes for a madness of sublime verse. Canoeing in a frozen lake for a stranded rose,

It was a taxidermal view thousands of fawns on the lake. Can you handle the die-off of the whole truth? I have nowhere to go. Genes are turning on, turning off. Bare hands holding the bruises. Hungry, but cannot eat

Goose-stepping on a soul song you set the sky ablaze, and I was not ready to welcome you. I was hungry and I was thirsty but could not find the road. Back and forth, back and forth walking with the

It was a slant love. Back to back, lips to lips. Lethal and dark strong yet delicate like spider’s web. A dark side of the moon sending conflicting signals to bacilli- of dirty lane, pink and blue. My pug licks

You are stupid they say For feeling this way But they don’t know the pain The tears which flow like rain Every night I try and smile For I feel some joy for awhile Just glad for making it through

We have been taught. We have been programed. The veil grows thicker over our eyes. Our senses are limited. We see very little. Remove the veil. Think past what you were taught. Break the cocoon you’ve been encased in. Look

The beautiful things of today tomorrow become out-dated. A porsche building in the sixties is now numbered with the shanties. The most recent and unspotted models of choice vehicles may soon be phased out from our cities. Fashions and styles

Critical conscience is not an admittance of ambivalence, But a philosopher once said: “You threw a rock at my head Fred!” A road along a path is but a journey to nowhere, If your cart is broken by a donkey

Is love something good or bad? Well, we all know that love makes you mad Love allows you to put your trust in that person’s hand Like someone suddenly decided to give you a thousand grand Love is something that’s

I travel between two worlds World of imagination, another of daily settings. I work, I talk, I sleep and eat And do all things, all for common blessings. My essential hours guide me To assume my conscious self Amid the

He and I (a subtle amateur attempt at understanding Narcissism) He loved himself and I loved him He believed he was superior and I was happy to be his shadow He wanted all the attention and I always showered it

They call it On to the quest of mysterious life; I have unlocked many treasures. Each one has its own story, Each one has its own say. Some gave me pleasures immense; Others chased the journey of woods intense. They

She is a bundle of joy delivering her child She breathes every moment to keep her child alive She forgoes food to drive away child’s hunger She skips her sleep to make the child sleep She cries when the child

Tonight I lift your eyes from the face and paste it on my window. Even death cannot claim the space reversing the age. A bra bomber blows up herself in a windowless cell, to get her a name on the

I want to laugh and laugh aloud, Like a free bird I want to discover every cloud, Want to cry and cry crisp, Keeping aside every sorrow I want to walk past brisk, Wander around in the streets for hours,

I was but a soldier in a trench in Northern France It sat upon a meadow where the lovely poppies danced. The skies above were cloudless clear a perfect colour blue And cornflowers on the meadow danced beside the poppies

Dazzling Pelicans I swayed languidly as a swollen cow that strolls on the narrow muddy road. bewildered all at once from my drowsiness, I saw a dazzling host of silvery Pelicans floating in the greenish lake before the building. Diving

I never got to see you, Say goodnight or hold your hand, The tragedy of faceless angels, Taken off to fates dark and cruel land. I loved you from the moment, You were created in the womb, Little did I

I rise my eternal spirit from the profound hearts of transient men , their blind , undulating senses is my home , Built with latent happiness . Yes , they exist . not impalpable , but clear and wide ,