I have written to you,God,grand poet and mentor, the living,extinct,prevailing wind and conscience of the universe, the unwilling,abettor of natural calamities,and unjustifiable, casual observer of human genocides among human assailants, to take note of your neutrality, having observe all these
The time of youth maintained its presence , Never move and detaches the young to the old, The memories of spring clouding the vision of departing days, here the wine flowed, the cup filled to its brim, celebrate the old
As a poet, I may dream and conjure the conversations And in mute silence, the unexplainable, There is no word to describe this state of things, They sailed along things on their own fashion and course of ordinary interludes, On
allow me this privilege of seeing you in , the unlit room in a chilly night, alone and guiltless, as night unmask your face, assumed Venus in the cowl shawl, splendor on the door it would admit, the dream of
let it be yourself, the brightest of the sunshine that will become, survive, fair to friends and foes, the one and all,sharing the same world. in time of the disaster, the mind for good and the assistance, the nobility of
Assume for one minute that the world was healed again,strong, though creeping veins and ventricles, unclogged their own blockages and once again it’s you who can sing and live again presume you are well again,and again ,celebrating the night and
THE NiGHT OF WORDS an assemblage of thought, Predicted a hint of rain the power of words,from the darkened sky, convey a message for a thought. Was it not one word that launched the words that built the world ?
BUS RiDES AND ORDEALS It’s the long rides from the small towns to the city. The mesmerizing sceneries of the trip taking the bus on the uneven roads, Sometimes,unpaved with no asphalt and the road lay carpeted with small rocks