Wired Poems

The cough syrup and amphetamine Don’t seem to mix, in nineteen-ninety Six, and I throw up in the Communal showers, from Impurities. The sight Of the silver fish helped. Tony, in room eight, no longer Around. Dragged his corpse From

How I chose to live my life. I’m wired at birth, my personality in place. I’m sculpted as a youth my environment had its say. The combination of both molded me as artists molds clay. With all this in place

Lighter than a feather, when weighed on you though, never heavier, Rain in the storm, blown away I’m torn, open up, it’s not like the norm Adored but not shown, praises that become worn, Show me the love, where’s the

Mankind began as a troop animal. Living amongst its own kind. Stepping out of the trees onto the Savanna. Mankind became a wander, small family bands bound by blood. Millenia past, mankind developed farming and the wanderer settled down. Small

Just an observation, To the moment close by; Your eyes sneaking out of window, But mine are stuck to thy. A strange feeling, Afraid, don’t know how to make a move; Waiting to get a glimpse of your Ming, Just

Always he was picking up and counting the pins to distill the essence of rainbows and find the symmetries of elementary laws and eating leftover words from the table. The terrorists had wired his house and he was not aware

The Singapore-schooled child Is bonsai-born to perfection; His hair doesn’t grow wild; His mind has no inflection. He is just the rare inquiline His islanded government ordered For in his rinsed head is recorded A rhyme: toe the line or

The advent of the new Century, Brought rapid strides in Technology. Obsolete, became MS DOS, Replaced now, by Windows. Standalones got wired, through LANS, On-line, real-time, brought WAN. Close on heels, came E-mail, To see information Sail. Mere surfing of

Your name seems to be carved on the heart since ages, You definitely have captivated every bit of it in cages, It is all yours forever, Oh dear, don’t leave me ever, I write your name sometimes on the shore,

Your cheeks, in red ochre rouged In dimples, the scarab dew slurps Eyes and teeth, a white flash sleight Stretch marks, varicose crossed, like The Anaconda’s swallowing strains. Your life restless, the nose suffocates Dawn disrupts as the feathers ruffled.

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

Humans are animals, same as the rest. We sprung up from the same womb as all animals do. What makes us different is what’s in our heads? We think, we plan, we build, we progress. Human minds have grown to

5am, the vending machine rattles, groans, collapses Violently, I kick it, yell at it, shake it The green tea can is grinning at me, mocking me. A passerby opens his fresh can of beer he sees me desperate for a

When I was a little boy, I used to run up to the end of the earthen road and run back homeward; in my hand an open-lipped astonished fig berry, a few apricot stones and some body-scars. At those days,

The stadium goes dark and a hush falls- you can hear a pin drop; The sounds of pins dropping, Maybe it’s the patter of raindrops Or is it running feet- Oh, the anticipation! It’s a drumroll for the artist, As

Her embracing self Sweeps you away to an unknown river dale Currents of her whirling posture Working wonder when together. Thy unconscious loving solitude showing bursting aptitude Amusing her tender parts Before another night is over. Dew of her canvassing

Noam Chomsky must be crazy What else can he be? He says America commits war crimes And he’s said it many times. How that can be true I haven’t a clue. How can anyone doubt That America is all about

Just before I went strolling through Eden in the early morning dew, The owner of a most beautiful garden gave me a list of things to do First on the list were all types of animals that I was suppose

Not everybody becomes famous Some fizzle out without trace Some acquire recognition but not total popularity Very few wins the heart of all gaining unprecedented devotion Charisma stems from the root of genes Some are introvert and shy and cant

I saw a flower and it stopped me in my tracks I looked very closely and I found it was looking back So I was transfixed by the colour and where it was at I guess the flower thought the

This is a post dedicated to the crazy people who were and who are out there. Life shows new things every day, Some are sad, Some happy. Some are interesting, Some dull. Some make us cry, Some make us laugh.

That was the dreadful night when my world went upside down, Tough decisions were made but still I count, The smiles the sorry the vows that were so profound, It just hit me hard now when ever they come around.

A little flower is an expression, Of love and art, Unique tiny creation, Capturing every heart. Beautiful and magical, Uplifting wonderfully, In a small bouquet, A moment of untold joy. Every little flower has music, In its soul, Inviting harmony,

Life alone is a desolate reign, feel no remorse, no fear, no pain. Dark lonely days and endless nights with no chance of living, or more pointless fights. My reasons, pure and simple. A growing need with mouths to feed;

Live it up, live it up tonight Go wild, go crazy, and go insane It’s all good, do what you Want to do and BURN OUT THE NIGHT… Have ya some of this and Have ya some of that, unleash

It’s like a bird limited by movements brooding later on love, feed, and flight, flight, flight. It’s like a fish swimming in a sea of habits forgetting self for few minutes of relishing self. It’s like the lord of forest

Can’t you see I’m drowning from your thirst buried in mud to my thighs every day another box arrives at the door the scent of cardboard makes me nauseous another knick-knack begets another floor to ceiling shelf populated by painted

To all the girls I have cared, respected, and loved before, You have showered me with great attention, I never experienced more. You were there on my ups and down; at my worst. If I can remember; I just sit,

A beautiful and sweet girdle Collecting it is quite doddle Counting is like a hot fettle Touching it is a bit brittle. Let be the Geeta or the Bible, Let be grapes or pineapple, Importance of money able Is not

Elegant and smart With a big kind heart Sharp as a dart With a good sense of art Great from the start Full of love in his cart With an unbeatable chart Of gifting time a lot Open as a

Unfettered for a little while, I was catching the sleep visitor. It hurts when the dream ends and a poem starts. An eucalyptus, drinking lots of water, throwing the aroma incensing the air, I pick up the fallen seeds of

Happy happy happy happy new year Welcome to the New year Goodbye to the present year The first Cheers of the new year is dedicated to you my dear The faces looks unfamiliar who is who none do know what

Being a mother… That path that is sometimes taken, that path that sometimes reaches you, and that you, even as a companion, always walks. That road full of efforts of pains and struggles but pregnant with joys, with teachings. That

Where do you go when you are not here, Sometimes you’re away for days, Your absence leaves me with such fear, So scared in a million ways. You give me no sign that you’ll be gone, You just up and

He started in an infirm tone as if the poem were escaping through his clenched behind, images and meaning forcing their way out, evoking a limp echo from his moist mouth. It had to be some elder enthusiast reading a

Freedom an all important right in this country coming from faith and mercy hundreds of years ago Control is now becoming a standard way of life, being told what to say or how to live is not the way one

you know what I am able to do I take a guess about you you say “everyone has feelings for you” don’t clarify that means anything to you why do people trust you? I’ve always wondered “what you do” you

Here I am again to sing a prayer Invoking the gracious gods above To bless this beautiful earth of ours With gifts of unbroken peace and love . I’ll pray that there be peace on the earth In its skies

Let me rest my chin upon the sill of Heaven Hoisted up by unseen shoulders from below Let me gaze at hidden glories for a short while Before I, into my busy day must go Let me breathe the sights

Sing voices sweetly sing sweet voices sing. for all the earth is listening, to voices sing in spring. Nature dresses in a fresh new gown, with colors of a rainbow crown, sweet voices sing Mother nature is nurturing the Earth

I put my love for you Into words, Words cleverly disguised To look as if mine, Every time I catch a new Emotion, I put it down, Write and rewrite Edit and re-edit, I have done all that, That is