Destitute Poems

Was it really so necessary, For you both to get married; Was it so obligatory, For you to divorce and separate; Was it damn compulsory, For you to get me born; Was it really really required, For you to leave

When I was borne my mother passed away and one day father also left the hut leaving me alone and my destiny was now homeless, helpless and orphan vagabond I was now roaming around the road and streets in search

It’s said search for happiness Is the main reason for unhappiness All our life we search for happiness, We wait for some big happiness to come our way In the run, in the rush to get some big happiness We

Treating wife as a lover makes life so romantic Treating children like friends brings parents so close Worshipping parents like God makes life so sacred Treating friends as siblings make the relationship so special Taking care of the sick and

I know not what Happiness is I suppose it must be when I was an infant sucking mother’s breast milk in hunger I don’t know what happiness is all about may be what I felt when I became topper in

With endless poverty gleaming in their eyes, Dreams, desires and will to live; Everything has faded to get fled, In a beggar; a living dead, A zombie on the streets. With an affirmative urge in hesitation, Cohesively willing to die

Getting into the room of a poet is like entering the cell of a prison unknowingly the prisoner… but you must keep quiet… because, such is the freedom of being kept behind bars, myriads of butterflies of freedom sleep there

Speak! My love to tell of how, this arc of circled light Might break upon darkness to dawn with unrequited might. Despair! Rides upon the night, unseen, unfelt, rich with life Through unwanted correspondence pain cuts with a knife To

Penniless, I get up in the morning having eight hours of sound sleep feeling fresh and happy. don’t you feel I am rich in spite of being Poor ? Milliner, I get disturbed sleep the whole night and get up

He walks down cobbles and blows bubbles for a pilgrimage of constant troubles, closing doors to tax men, running for milk floats, shunning almighty bible bashers, paints the flags of east London fascists Charlie chicken soup with a head like

A lost soul on stolen time wonders like a landscape drifter For I am that which stands before you, a bottom feeder and shapeshifter Wizards watch wrath without wondering why Wither away like roses in winter whispering a thundering cry

Ail, What we did to earth? Before The births, we took the lives, Ceasing the smiles, we ruined the hopes. deny the past, lets demand peace. Erase the scars of our wicked strokes. Find the light hidden inside. Gold dust

Smoke billows and mingling with the dust rises, a solid choking mass that coats with dirty grey the shapes that lie so still. The silence, broken only by a tearful moan, uneasy on the waiting ears of those who stand

Walking beside a river, watching landscapes mirror underneath the sun Subtle colours, everyone encapsulated by the river pictures all across and along Yellow flowers, look at them for hours and the branches stretch like towers, entwining from earth to beauty

I am gone ? Life is a joke So let’s die in smoke suffocation Death laughs as I write I try to vent my frustration The life I once spoke Is a car crash of no organization I am gone

Lord if I died today I’d be a better man for knowing You You gave my life dignity, purpose and wisdom too Exposed all my weakness to myself forgiving like no other My Father, oh my Lord, beside me always

Looting after the earthquake: I have wrecked myself on my own terms. Bringing down the edifice of human cult, the man has come in the spin of richtor scale. Why does a crisis tears up the mask and animal comes

Sitting in this beautiful dark night , Framing the tale of life. When time runs out and heart needs to say so much more, And you are left with a raw nagging sore. Then reach for your paper and pen,

Captivating eyes, yes eyes, those eyes, I gazed at èm, heard sound of drum, The day I was right in the front, was that just a hunt? First look, deep inside them, left me numb, Wonder why those mesmerising eyes

The last corn popped expansively Unnecessarily loud, in a paper bag on a round glass base In a ten year old microwave (a good tool); Jennifer awaits, our first night in, alone together Her parents are at the cinema; her

Look at them; I struggle to believe time, Seems like yesterday, all were so young, Together in the fields of Kalia, domesticating was fun, Games that touched our young souls, brightening childhood, Like the birds in the onset of rains,

When the curtain falls, the puzzled instinct inherits the confusion of clouds. The beleaguered moon goes into a rage. Hungry vultures start a wait for the fall of a titan, stimulating the sun to exhibit the trove of the golden

God’s love, is pure and true, His Grace, and Mercy, will carry you through. Just take a hold, of His nailed scarred hands, He will carry you through,these desert lands. In times of trouble, and in times of need, With

I’ve taken my Time To put my Heart on the Line, These few words of mine Is a Testament of our Love Divine Only a few days had passed Since we first met A date to the church We were

Been a Christian, been Jew. A Mormon and a Muslim too. After walking each path, finding none quite right, my eyes opened wide to true simple light. To love and hear compassions sweet song, it was spiritualism whispering all along.

Between the times, between the rhymes, the beat of life goes on, Though sometimes stumbling through the dark, before the night has gone, And yet again it can be dazzled by the rising of the dawn Like many crumbling edifices

A Mother’s smile to her child is like a Boost that Nourishes the child with love warmth and affection Of threads of life weaves the human ties. A Teacher’s smile shapes his student’s unrefined wisdom As a carpenter reshapes a

Don’t you stare at me like that how can I look back at you on seeing your moist Eye reluctant to burst out I know it is terrible to lose someone so close to your heart but It is equally

The whistle blows to sound the charge and over the top they bustle and barge, covered from head to toe in mud and soon tainted with flesh and blood. Up the ladder with slippery rungs, a scream of rage from

The clown is in the rocket ship and he’s crying just for you He’s been smoking something strange now he’s going up to the moon It’s alright because he’ll be back for you…………… real soon I might have; could have;

Standing on the road, that diverges at the end One way leads to green glory, another to the dark lane The lane never travelled, is the one I wish for As Darkness chased me, but I followed a star Standing

I lay in bed Listening to the hammering rain Pit pat pit pat Beating on the window pane I gaze at these racing drops Hitting a different note each fall Spreading the fragrance in the air Of their rendezvous with

Oh the truth and nothing but the truth !!!????? What way of justice? does it say? should always bring the truth out why do they say then, that, he be given the benefit of doubt? who cannot prove his guilt???

we are the innocent we are the saved destined for greatness beyond the grave never seek self to please nor that in fantasy grasping for all honesty we fall short yet we press on through the rocky terrain of faith

In growing silence of the soul, With soulful emotions, To keep alive the passions Of the yearning heart, My mind drifts on, In the sea of life. A numbness spreads, In a chasm so vast, Leaving a path behind, The

We used to have a house, ignorant of his birthday anniversary. Its wall was hanged on a black and white photo, The photo hanged by a thread made of the fur of a goat coming from pre-Islamic era, The thread

Same dream, different night a sense of De Ja Vu takes me back to another life… my heart beats fast like angel wings, as you come in out of the shadows I begin to remember everything… Irish green eyes radiating

Sorry that I refuse to be a good man, The one that bends to a will without breaking. The one that shouts your praises from mountain tops While saving kittens And Organizing decadent bouquets of flowers made by Boxes of

The days are dark and bleak Nights cold , crushed and coy A twinkling star just smiles by Soars my heart with joy! The hut that I live in Vacant , vague and wry Mother’s hand on forehead Comfort in

Well I wonder what she was thinking Just before her car went over the bridge And into the cold frozen creek below Well only God knows, only God knows Although I think this story should circle The globe and never