Mumbai poems bring the best collection of short and long mumbai poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great mumbai rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these mumbai poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on mumbai are here for you.
“Appa, your kinda song” called out Aadi My kind? Listened, liked it instantly and That has set the ball rolling on a peep into Mumbai, may be many things to many a man Gun totting gangsters, trigger happy cops, Starlit
Maybe, just maybe, love is not a forever thing you know? Maybe it is just an evening spent taking crowded trains to unknown stations figuring announcements in foreign languages and wandering walks through dilapidated bylanes full of squishy muck and
I walk through crowded streets trying to find a face I pass by cold stares in search of a warm embrace I get nothing in return… No smile, no stare I walk with emptiness, uncoloured, unaware. Its noisy, I know,
“Why don’t we go to the park, father,” Asked the little boy, slipping his little palm into his father’s, “Like we used to every day Till a month back?” “Why don’t we walk around the park, father,” He asked, tugging
Two flailing oiled chotis slap me out of stupor. The Goddess arches out hinged at the pole, her saucer hands clasped below mine. A hooting call answered with crystal stare from wide apart eyes that grazes my shoulder, wounding me.
This collection of poetry is the saga of life in all of its colors – joy, sorrow, triumph, love and pain. The book is a beautiful collection of heart-touching poems, drawn from my personal experiences in life. While ‘Mother, my
Lamp posts become sleeping lines; blot yellow, as I lose touch with the night. They choose when to light my knee, my eyes try to keep count. Smiling behind hair strands, I let a part of me rest on Amma’s
A dowry for a princess was a city called BOMBAY with green fields, open spaces lakes and seas, tramcars that were a child’s delight horse-carts drawn by liveried men the streets were clean, wide and green with cobbled footpaths dotting
A mother and son returning from the school mother carrying the heavy bag and the bottle in one hand, another fully extended— covering the child’s head with a palm overworked lending little shade from the scorching Mumbai sun her own
Since my earliest youth, I’ve been looking for my face which was stolen by wars. I am the son of war. My memory was kneaded by her tough dances. Since forty years, I’ve been inhaling her bitter smoke, knowing nothing
I feel the tiredness of my years, those quiet times when breath appears in melting mosaic imagery, upon the mirrors of a sea that only calls so many names, through pious sunlit tortured flames that scrape themselves away from light,
Your name is marked in its ledger. It will find you, catch you flatfooted. Trap you. Have you. Keep you hostage and not ask for ransom. This is snake charming – rattlesnake charms the man, lulls and rocks and poisons.
Violence !Bloodshed ! Massacre ! Hatred and callousness having its nasty play across the globe, inflicting myriad miseries on innocent people here and there, every now and then . And all these insane acts in the name of God !
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
There’s always something to say And we should come to GOD and pray, Whether we just cry, Or talk about hurting inside, We should always come to him and try. Just like the stars are perfectly placed Also is his
She wanted the attentions He needed a companion Through their journey in life Fate made them cross path Between them, grew much feelings The infatuation, carried alongside their friendship His affection for her was indescribable Her indifference for compassion was
I sat here before Back to the wall The walls spoke of sorrow and fear Now they warm my heart With sparking luminescence Firing bulbs of elegance that Soothe the soul entranced Life has come back In glorious delight Every
It was that wicked drug, Not some contagious bug, That caused a goodbye without a hug. We certainly cried when you died, And our tears eventually just dried, Because your potential to shine was denied. Even though you are dead,
Titles, titles, titles, all she won was titles Lengthening her debuts at piano recitals Lengthening the doctor’s verification of her vitals Narrowing her gape Her cosmopolitics tightening ‘Til all was television and art-deco sex Her untangling the day’s trinkets from
Faith is like passing through the path of thorns But without being his dress torn or being inured This is how a faithful survives and just adorns Against all non believers who are heretic ,absurd Faith is a force which
From inner room to open field, from kitchen countertop to office desk, her travails remain the same. Everyday she tells stories that draws tears from hearers’ eyes, unceasingly, stories that elicit sympathy-she relates to her listeners; beyond description account on
Well and here I am in New York City Looking like I just stepped out of Vogue And the confidence I display screams GQ In these and those studio photos and Many high fashion magazines then it’s off To Hollywood
Bloodshot eyes in heads so wise, they queued outside the door The men whose work began right there, at Tommy’s on the moor. Hands thrust deep in pockets to betray the shaking bones Of weather-beaten fingers whence they laboured sand
Take a bite out of life Go on, sense it coming towards you Sniff its tantalising possibilities Then snap off a crisp, clean chunk Bite down on its crunchy sweetness Chomp it into smaller and smaller pieces That swirl around
When we’re born, we’re born into darkness. Only seeking earthly desires, seeking to be fulfilled by temporary things. But then, You began that walk of life with me. Everywhere I looked with my young eyes, You were always there right
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
We live in two different planes of existence. We travel two different paths within those planes. Our paths cross on both but unite in neither. By day we live in one plane where we work, we provide, we survive. We
Velvet wilted rose petals Fallen rain pelts against a window pane Music soothes the soul I am whole Alone twice amongst a desolate world Cold starving hunger Lingering amidst a velvet heart Raisin wine symphony Fill my being Making love
This is a delicate porcelain, but, she was broken… Love Crime— The Humanity Prejudice（Encounter In Masquerade） Split emotion, rupture thoughts, Tragic is melted in prejudice, Disguisers of Beast in human form, as cruel as ice, Mercy is tearing, mask is
All by myself, Surrounded only by my thoughts, In my home, With no modern gadgets of communication, No WhatsApp, No Facebook, No mobile, No ‘virtual’ friends, Away from all, In the real world, With my animals and plants, With my
All our dreams are crushed, All our dreams are gone, Yet here we sit and yawn. Before we were small kids, Playing around like pigs. But here we are now grown, Silently missing home. Our bones are filled with arthritis,