Friday, November 23, 2007


She may be the face I cant forget,
the trace of pleasure or regret.
May be my treasure
or the price I have to pay.

She may be the song that Summer sings,
may be the chill the autumn brings.
May be a hundred different things
within the measure of a day.

She may be the beauty or the beast,
may be the famine or the feast.
May turn each day
into a heaven or a hell.

She may be the mirror of my dream,
the smile reflected in a stream.
She may not be
what she may seem.

She who always so happy in a crowd,
whose eyes can be so private and so proud.
No one's allowed to see them
when they cry.

She may be the love that cannot hope to last,
may come to me from the shadows of the past.
That i remember
till the day I die.

She may be the reason I survive,
the Why and wherefore I'm alive.
The one I'll care for through the rough
and ready years.

Me I'll take her laughter and her tears,
and make them all my souvenirs.
For where she goes I've got to be
the meaning of my life is She.

(This work is not mine but is close to my heart & that I relate to)

Monday, November 12, 2007

Ingenuine Clarities

Standing against the wet wall of loneliness,
While time became a silk knot pressing your breath.
Why dip your pen into invisible ink,
To mince your heart?

Instead of a miserably hybrid grub,
Or the curved, wrinkled arms of destiny.
Think of the rain dribbling on the ivy leaves,
Or the
euphonious breeze of wind etching life.

Oh! My consanguineous Cousin,
Claim your happiness for you’re worth it!
And my
For your support is
sui generis.