Doorstep Poems

I stand at my doorstep, Eyes straining on the very path you walked by… I wait to hear those footsteps retreating, back to me, you in my arms again… I shut the door, sighing. I then hear a soft knock;

It’s those sultry days that sooth my soul, In the searing heat, empty like after birth we would bath, Fear of appearing odd, the taste of the sweet waters, Oblivious of each other’s different destiny, Our foggy minds leading the

A sparkling path was chosen by one, providing mature wines for the cultured, elegant polished restaurants, operas of critical acclaim, endless parties for the ordained elite, cars which navigated and spoke, manicured sprawling homes, and… Shoes… closets and closets of

Our father left us while we were young We could not clean our own stable And we did not know how to But we knew how to protect our color. Our mother separated us for the reason You had to

If you find no poem on your doorstep in the morning, no paper, no knock on your door, your life poorly edited but no broken dashes or injured meter- If you do not wear white satin dresses late in life

Do you deem it courage? Or is it a kind of outrage Sparking off the blood-hued flares Igniting all particles of wrath present in the air Curses etched on the strips of little paper Nailed into the cloth flesh of

I walk down the bridge Whispering to my restless mind About your last night’s talk And those unfeeling hands of innocence The night eglantine smiles In its usual way At my timid inexpressive desire And the love filled eyes of

Running punctuality and just enough, under loyalty, The way the northern winds blew my skirts was seen by a youthful sun, mouthing expletives, It was under that noon, I met thee. Racing against cold blankets from afar, and fighting cocooned

Confused , lost , bloodshot eyes , A wanderer insomniac driven premise , Supreme anxiety , thumping palpitations, Pointless life dictated inhibitions , I Came at your doorstep, A depressed human being , A lifeless soul, Devoid of objectives ,

This is the road that leads to my father’s home It is old and dusty with bullock-carts creaking, Carrying the heavy weight of the freshly cut sugar-cane To the mills nearby for our sugar laden tables, Piled in our court-yards

One summer’s eve in Spain, I fled through an open window, Butterflies aflight In the very pit of me, And I tramped the streets, My heart abrim With such a love, But a love now long gone. With my final

Poems are reveries that call you by name. Like all true loves they arrive in spite of who you are, at your doorstep. Nothing needs to be done except to stay with your longing. They are miracles of compassion; they

In the arms of love, A beautiful untold story A loud silence that broke every barrier, The askance of the heart and its myriad worry Sojourning the barren mirth to make life merrier. Love’s wings summoned the romantist from Canada

He sat on the floor of his old room, his back Against the wall – everything was gone And the room said nothing though it had heard everything He’d ever said or thought, declared or mumbled under his breath The

It was afternoon hot on summer mid And the sky was blazing with unspeakable boiling, But still was graced with pound of clouds Which bore timid promises to overcome the summer damages. Then it was coming of rain like an

though moo cho yars older, i (bovine cuddly name = hay4four at aol dot com), could feign 2b a frat house bro by undergoing a facial augmentation – despite lacking dough unlike the multimillionaires here in lower merion, where a

Roses are red and violets are blue, I’ve run out of violets, for the violets were you. Since the roses turned black the flowers have died, You left me on my doorstep, you saw that I cried. But lilies turn

When the bloodshed starts at the doorstep of solemn silence, give me a lone engagement with the invisible to unchain the split heart. I will take away the pain from home and come back in failing light when a star

I guess it is never late to live where I am, For the past has left me grieving alone, Future is unforeseen showing fresh and green, For none of them appear here, where I am. Past memories linger grieving, Was

Just before the darkest hour I saw a dawn breaking there was this angel standing she looked withered and tired. her wings ruffled and torn I got up to help but she yelled stop don’t hurt me anymore I can’t

Chasing the embedded sex of the moon you torched the sun by the stares of dead and turned yourself into a stone of steps. For survival? I knew the gravel, the water therefore cried inside. Navigating in swathes of tristesse

Almost a decade gone, many to be born, I was so in Love, like a mourning dove, My world upside down, aloft with a heavy head crown, I realize every moment how much I wanted you, Wanted your cuddle, till

Once it touches it savors, A specialty or a perfect taste, A succulent prep it favors, Abhors that morsel gone waste. Inferno, when spruced with spice Addictive, when trickled sweet, Arctic, when met with ice, Articulate, when prudent and upbeat!

Where is my feeling of anticipation Where is my gentle voice of persuasion Where is my rock and my foundation Where is the ease of my frustration Where are your thoughts and your reflection Where is your support and your

Living on fringe he was stealing genes. Fear of rebirth started a dialogue with death! Ignited by an asexual urge the belly went into flames. The super star dived in sea dragging down his old father. The sleek content of

Only in God do I have the peace The love and the joy in me Only in God is there hope for This world Only in God do we seek The wonders and mercy We have in Him My God

When darkness prevails, Even our own shadow betrays. World avails the opportunity, Criticizing you and questioning your capability. Unexpected people change their minds, On asking help, they behave as if blind. They don’t look into the real matter, Only spread

Very often we seek love, warmth, caress, inspiration and motivation to move on. Very often we ask for guidance if not from God then from men to confirm our decisions. Very often we struggle to live through heartaches of solace

This pain it consumes me really bad, ripping and tearing, making me sad. And sadness overtakes me, when I think of what we had. This pain inside me is plain to see, no more of your loving just for me.

It is not on you, dear poet, but on your Nation, and its rulers, spread all over Their body, mind and soul; irreparable, Their cancerous thoughts and deeds; ‘The red salute’, they offer to all, a mean, Cheap and cruel

I had a heart which knew to care But had a problem…. wanted all things to be fair. Did not realise….. love is beyond any need Beyond anger, anguish, pain and any greed. The heart cried and cried Till the

In this world of possession, Where, criticism creates frustration. Sufferings and pain have easy flow, Negativity and jealousy are in full glow. Where emptiness is all around, Pessimism can easily be found. Intolerance growing day by day, Depression is like

I have a hero I call him dad, Who makes me smile whenever I am sad. Dad, You are my first love For me, you are all above. With a morning hug, U wake me up, Then you run errands,

A time there was you needed my love And I was there to hold you and it did A world of good for me too but now it’s Been a long time gone, still my love for You goes on

I have solely turned this creation into mess, becoming a cause for frustration and moments of distress, resulting from price tags and use of over-inked cheques, and also from partaking in acts of repeated carelessness, It’s safe to say that

In the surge of dark there was a lunar smile in my glass I will not abandon the moons in your eyes. A white sow was going to deliver the babies. It was departure time and the profile was ready

Trees are planted by the wise, Idiots examine a tree to be just a source of beauty, But an intelligent knows it’s price, Trees are not human who shout at their good, But are like gods who have importance in

It should not have come early; the death, had insulted the terrible suffering. Shadows were lengthening. I wanted to live in infinite nothingness of the wrong time. Hope was not a perforated dimension, it was my religion. When nobody was

staring at these four walls of the house that was once my home, I’m in this corner all alone well being alone is fine it’s being lonely that’s not quite so divine I’m in a constant battle with my mind

Rains are here again, I am surrounded by hues of blue and grey in the sky, with sunlight filtering in sometime. The earth has wrapped herself in the fabric of flora and fauna has not stayed behind, the buzzing of

They too are living beings …. We snatch their lives , Even when they are the reason we are alive . They control evry kind of pollution , But we cut them instead of finding a new solution . They