Merry Message of Christmas

As the year is winding down with its
own touch of magnificent and momentous ride,
we reflect and reminisce the joys and
woes of life with a sense of glory and pride.

The life is like a river that engenders
unending streak of emotional waves and churns,
with a meandering slope greeted by
caring friends with few unexpected twists and turns.

Convey you the season's message
of joviality, reconciliation and tenderness;
and wish all the happiness of the world to
dawn upon your family on the eve of Christmas.

Trap of Unique Deception

Devilish as you are,
selfish as you are,
jealous as you are,
yet you are beautiful,
with pretty eyes
and dark hair,
to dozen eyes
fixated on you.

Angry as you are,
over-conscious as you are,
stubborn as you are,
yet you rouse passion
in the hearts of
hundreds with the flow of
enigmatic smile that
adorns your lips.

You are in a separate
stratum of reality altogether,
with a penurious state
of compassion and kindness,
yet make your day with
a lightning strike on
thousands with the dazzling
beauty that is shrouded
with mystery and myth.

You know how to
play with others' emotions
with trifling and
trivial manners that even
gnaws the worst of
egotists to the knees,
yet you evoke a surge
in waves of love in
the hearts of millions
because you are the
one that allures the
abstract existence of
love into a trap
of unique deception.

Today, Tomorrow and Forever

Why am I
feeling so blue?
So sad? As if
I have no clue.
Am I in love?
No, that can not be.
I do not know how that
feeling overwhelms me.
It enthralls me every
second to dream her
preaching the gospel
of love to my ear.

I am struggling with
my feelings and emotions
as if I am being
haunted by her delusions.
To her, I may be
a silly, laughable stock;
an object of joke,
taunt, gossip and mock.
To me, she is the
most beautiful princess,
an aura of beauty with
heart full of heavenly bliss.
It matters very
little to me
what she thinks, or
at all she thinks, of me.
She will be in my
dream, in my prayer,
in my heart today,
tomorrow and forever.

Undefined Love

A little sapling,
a placid creature,
a lucid heart,
yearns for a
caring and tendering
touch of love
that flows unhindered
with the pulsating
throbs of echo
reflecting all corners
of universe with
the rhythm of
oozing melody of romance.

I shall wait for
your arrival
with the intense
desire splurged with
effusion of passionate
outpouring of love
that follows no
pre-set rules, flows
in no pre-determined
direction, favors no
preferred definition.

Poet of the Narrow World

Take a breath,
pause for a moment,
ponder over your poems—
they are void of
stories touching the
lives of struggling
and suffering people.
They are full of
roses, dews, rains,
butterflies, tame rivers,
water falls, fountains,
crystal clear lakes,
beauty of twilight.

They do not touch
the heart of a laborer,
describe the smile of
a prostitute, capture
the dream of a destitute,
paint the hope of a
homeless, reflect the
brightness of the
heart of a beggar,
illustrate the pain
of a troubled orphan.

You are the poet
of a different world—
always shining, always
glittering, always dazzling,
always illuminating—
the narrow world.

Your Presence

A little rose,
a veneer of love,
a sweet hug,
a passionate kiss,
may make all the
differences for me.

I wait for your
embrace with an
unmatched zeal
of antediluvian romance
that stirs my passion
and feeling in a
way that sets off
the nurturing waves
of love in my heart.

Your presence generates
a swirl of emotions
in my body that
takes me off the
ground in a trajectory
through the maze
of spatial charms
and constellation of
loving phalanx of stars
and keeps my
restless heart singing
to the beats
and booms of universal
music of love.

Writing Your Name

Everyday I sit
at the edge of
the sand-filled, long-jump
athletic course, and
write your name
in big, bold letters
on the sand.

I hope, may be
someday, you will
come here and
see your name
on the sparkling
yellow sand.

Next day, when
I come again,
I see that
your name is
gone—sands
appear untidy
and tormented, with
imprints of raging
steps of athletes
everywhere on the course.

I start from the
scratch, and write
your name
again on the sand.
I close my eyes,
and hope, this time
you will come.
I gradually open
my eyes only to
see you coming.
But who you are with?
Who is that well-built
man holding your hand?
I can not hold back
my tears seeing him
kissing you and running
over your name with
his brutal steps—
your name is gone.

Tomorrow, I shall
come, yes I shall,
to write your name,
again on the sand,
but this time
with my tears.

Celestial Beauty

I am flying high,
seating just behind
the pilot and co-pilot
from San Diego to
Santa Monica.
I keep my eyes
fixated on the
vast expanse of
clear blue sky
and magnificent
beauty of frothy
waves that adorn
the Pacific below.
Looking afar through
the cockpit window,
I reflect on my
own identity. I
mutter: Our world
is so beautiful!
I find myself lost
in the vastness
of the azure sky
that stretches beyond
where my eyes meet
the horizon, and
remain befuddled by
the unique facet of
celestial beauty.

EGO

It is no
strength of character,
it is no
positive trait
of humanity,
it is no
sign of maturity,
it is no
representation of
academic or professional
accomplishment of any magnitude.

It brings the
evil side of
character to the fore,
and drowns out
the good deeds—
well-recognized, highly
appreciated—in a
matter of few seconds.

It hurts the
loved ones,
severs relationships,
creates life-long rifts
between best friends,
splits families, flares
the flame of animosity,
and leaves everyone
with the bitter feeling
of dejection and desolation.

It has ill-effect,
it has destructive
power, it has
reach beyond an
individual’s control,
it has a name—EGO.

Enjoying the Rain

The sky turns
charcoal black
with clouds hanging
low to stare
upon us and
warn of an
overwhelming downpour
that may flood creeks,
clog streets and throw
normal life out of
routine path of activities.

I stepped outside
with my iphone to
capture the beauty
of the Dallas skyline
that abuts the high-rises
with the touch of
dark stream of clouds.
I felt warm burst
of air on my face
that jolted me to
look afar and take
another beautiful picture
of the horizon that
embraces the light
of thunder eviscerating
the sky with the
sharp edges of
heavenly sword.

Suddenly rain with high
wind got me drenched,
and I, instead of running
inside, enjoyed a
rain-soaked afternoon
by getting wet and
thanking the God
for the opportunity
to embrace the intense
rain that came as
a blessing in the
midst of a hot summer.

Dark Abyss of Homelessness

I wonder how
it would look like
if I were a
homeless, someone despised
by the society,
avoided by fellow
citizens, abandoned
by former friends.
I would be standing
under the downtown
overpass looking for
some handout as,
I know, I am the
pariah and have
nowhere to go,
nobody to turn
into, no one to
listen to me.

The society thinks
of me as worth
nothing as I am
a chronic drug addict,
a dirty vagabond
loitering the downtown
streets and a security
danger to pedestrians
and passers-by.
I visit shelters
to have meals,
meet with my
fellow homeless
brothers to talk
about our addiction,
and in rare occasion,
share my dream of
becoming a good
and productive
citizen again.

I need a little help,
a little empathy,
a little compassion,
a little word of hope
to lift my life
from the dark
abyss of homelessness.

Coal Miner

He enters deep
inside the earth,
so deep and dark
that he kisses the
cheek of death
every moment,
and extracts the
black jewels to
nourish the appetite
of the economy.

He risks his life
everyday to make
sure our lights are
on, our houses are
cool during sweltering
summer, our lives
run on normal
schedule as his
sweetheart waits
all day long for
him to come out
of the mouth of
mountain and hug
her with rugged arms.

Every morning, he puts
his uniform and gives
good bye to the
beautiful mountain
range, scenic valleys,
sleepy villages hoping
this not being
the last time he
has to do.
His labor grinds
the coal into wealth
for the owner, his
sweat turns the
dark chamber into
a glittering mint for
profiteering, his
tears makes the
mine a place of
worship for humanity.

Glass Cage of Isolation

Arrogant you are,
egoistic you are,
moody you are,
insensitive you are,
but why?
Just because you
are beautiful, so
beautiful that the
moon has to take
cover behind the cloud.
Just because you
are highly educated,
so educated that the
compassion has to
leave you at the
mercy of your whim.
Just because you
are wealthy, so wealthy
that you do not even
know who you are.

Come with me
Ms. Arrogant,
I shall show you
the beauty—the
eclectic beauty—of
the world that would
enlighten your heart
with the sparkles of
rich and poor, lovely
and ugly, scholarly
and illiterate, and
enable Your soul
to break open the
glass cage of isolation.

Shirley Sherrod

Shirley Sherrod,
a name,
a symbol,
a reflection
of grace,
transcends the
barriers of race.

Falsehood and fiction,
concoction and calumny,
dishonesty and distortion
are no match with her—
she remains calm,
resolute, determined,
poignant and
true to her principles.

She signifies
the brightness of
our character—our
precious gift given
by the merciful
God—that strengthens
the bond among
races, cultures, languages
and religions.

Power of Love

I wonder
where you are,
whom you are married,
what you are dreaming,
what poems you are writing,
what novels you are reading.

It is a long time
I have not seen you,
but never stopped
thinking of you,
not even for
a single day.
Not for a single day
I felt you not
being part of my life,
my dreams, my poems,
my thought, my feeling.

Our separation is
physical, may be
some thousands
miles, may be
just few continents
apart, may be a
dozen time zones
or so afar, but
I refuse to be
separated by oceans,
by mountains,
by forests.

My every heart beat
utters your name
that makes my blood
flow through the limbs
with the eternal
satisfaction of every
moment of your presence
and conquers the oceans,
the mountains, the
continents, the planets,
the moon, the sun,
the galaxies with
the power of love.

Environment--Our Responsibility

Need to get
our environment
on track for
our progenies.
Need to put
our faith in
our ability
to shine.

Can not just
stand idle in
the face of
man-made onslaught.
Can not keep
our quiet in
the backdrop
of climatic disasters.

We are the
rubble-rousers
working to make
the world more livable.
We are the beacon
of hope for
a pollution-free world.

We want to
make a difference
not tomorrow,
but today.
We want to
lead the leaders,
not being led
by the leaders.

Malaria

Let us wage a war
on the mosquito-borne
disease that still
ravages world’s vast area—
we need determination,
decisive action and deft
planning to eradicate
the curse—malaria.

The disease strikes
with brute force
that parallels the scale
of antediluvian destruction,
wrecking havoc in
communities from Africa
to Asia and every year
taking lives of
more than a million.

The disease crushes
our potency as easily
as a needle pricking
a balloon full of helium,
and reminds us
human’s predicament
and helplessness at
the hand of a parasite
known as Plasmodium.

My Auspicious Princess

I feel your skin
in a sense
of soft, soothing touch
that takes me in
a journey of youthful
voyage and places me in
the unique world of
desire, urge and love.

I draw your picture
on the stone, on the
sand, on the crystal
lime, on the mosaic
surface, on the clay,
on the wall of the cave
with my blood that will
never fade—come years,
come decades, come centuries—
and I will visit all
of those places again
and again—for
millennia to come—
to see your picture.

I touch your limbs
to feel the softness
that stretches the
finesse of blossoming
flowers—with the
spring bloom spreading
the aroma of love for
my auspicious princess—
beyond the grasp
of sensual understanding.

Coffee

It stimulates
my intellect,
forces to think
through the
maze of wonders,
prods me to grasp
the complexities,
keeps me brewing
with new ideas.

AIDS: Eerie Appearance of a Ghost

The disease,
as devastating as debilitating,
overwhelms the mankind,
just like cluster bombs
spew a burst of
ash clouds and
suffocate the population
in an open gas chamber,
and wipes out human
lives and scarce resources
like a flood that
sweeps away villages
after villages, towns
after towns with the
fury of an apocalypse.

The disease is an
epidemic—nay, a
social curse—the mankind
is facing with no win
in sight—not because
of lack of tools or
technology at our
disposal, because of
dereliction of moral
responsibility and respect
for the people in
need—and, is poised to
obliterate and obviate
the glitz and glitter—
irrespective of how bright,
how shining, and how
sparkling they are—
of aristocracy and
affluence—just like
a major hurricane
ravages the shiny beach
that boasts of high-rise
hotels, glamorous tourists,
gorgeous views of sea
surfs, and leaves it
in tatters and shambles
resembling the skeleton
of a primitive civilization—
and, is determined to bring
to fore the deformed
face of humanity with
the ugliness of the eerie
appearance of a ghost.

The Janitor, Ms. Clean

Who is that disheveled lady?
I know who she is—
she enters the corporate
office as every other
professional leaves.

She is tired from
her day job, nonetheless
happy—happy to have
her cleaning job, happy
to have opportunity
to provide food on
the table for her family,
happy to have another
day of dream for
better life, happy to
have meager means
to help her husband
in drug rehabilitation
program, happy to have
big dreams for her kids
so that their worst days
are still better than her
best day, happy to have
few moments to
rededicate herself to
the merciful God.

She cleans the litters
of professionals, she
flushes the toilets,
she wipes the dust
off the windows, she
unloads hundreds of
trash bins, she sweeps
the floor.

She has smile on
her face to greet
the professionals,
even though she
receives only grimace
from them.
I know who she is—
she is the Janitor,
Ms. Clean.

My Beautiful Mysterious Girl

Long before I forget you,
my beautiful mysterious girl,
I like to write a poem for you.
a poem nobody will ever write,
a poem nobody will ever think of,
a poem that uniquely describes you.

You thrive in my dream
to sow the seeds of
serene love in my
fleeting, wandering mind,
and create waves of
emotion that incessantly
hurtle through all my
veins and vestibules with
the force of Seismic ripples
transcending the space and time.

Your smile, as effusive as the water
flowing through the river that
snakes through the slopes and
stones of the mountain, keeps my
blood flowing and vital senses
pulsating as if a maverick, lost
in a rugged trail, finds the hope
of life from a feeble ray of
light illuminating
from a distant place.

You live beyond my reach,
still you are so close,
like the ever-elusive
desert mirage,
asking me to come closer,
to feel your perfume-smell
breath, to relish your
intoxicating laughter,
to glare at your majestic beauty.

Your aura glows
like the marvel
of pleasant feeling
of the morning sun,
intensifying the beauty
of the clear sky with a
stroke of azure touch,
and makes my survival
instincts work in tandem
with the spontaneity of
the impulse of love.

You spread your aroma,
just like the smell of
blooming rose that pervades
and permeates the air with
the charm of divine feeling,
with the luminous display of
sophistication and lustrous
disposition of savory taste.

You sail solo in the turbulent
ocean, with the recalcitrant
waves and restive winds vying
with each other to touch you,
to feel you, to savor you, and
I wait forever on the beach for
a momentary glimpse of you.

I look at the full-moon sky,
glittered with thousands
of twinkling stars embracing
the universe and beyond with
the wavy froth of illumination
and spectral hallucination
of antediluvian love, and
discover you emerging from
the surface of the moon and
rolling out the wings with the
chastened beauty of the queen
of the sky, and regale my
beautiful mysterious girl
dancing with the sparkling
stars and incandescing
the vast expanse with
ever brighter illumination.

Reborn Man

The teenage girl wrecked
my modest car in
the busy intersection, lucky
enough for both of us
standing unscathed
at the corner of
the pedestrian walk.

She broke down, and
began to cry profusely,
with the angst and fear
filling her heart,
just like the black
clouds that cover
the afternoon sky
and turn it dark.

I got little closer
to urge her to relax
and cool down, and
remind her that glass
is half full,
not half empty.
Her luxurious sedan
laid bare the egomaniac
fickleness of
the middle class,
and I stood under the
graying sky with the
breath of a reborn man.

Potency of Diversity and Tolerance

My little river
town of Barrackpore—
heaven to me,
not because that it
is beautiful—yes, it
is—not because
it is peaceful—yes, it
is—not because that it
has embraced me like
an adoptive mother—in deed,
it has cuddled me
with thousands
loving hands—because it
has opened my eyes,
just like a queen
would help her
prince to come
to terms with
the heavenly splendor
of a dreamy wonderland,
to the sparkling universe
of riches full of
enduring and endearing
charm of diversity that
transcends the boundaries
of language, religion, gender
and incomes—has propelled
me into the tumult of rough
seas of life armed with the
most effective tool—potency
of diversity and tolerance—a
sailor needs to navigate
the maze of
contradictions and conflicts
of the world.

The Sky Turns Brighter

A bright star
on the moon-lit sky,
with glowing ray
of hope
and charm,
wants to
illuminate the mankind
with her kindred spirit.

The tranquil star,
like an angel in the sky,
removes the darkness,
and brightens those
despair faces,
like no other stars
have done before.

The rose petals,
long ago abandoned,
upon receiving
the ever growing
glow from the star,
respond with a full blossom.

The constant twinkles
of the distant star
add luster to the
nightly sky, and her
heavenly beauty adorns
the universe now
and forever.

As the darkness sets in,
the sky turns brighter
with the illumination
from the star—
MOTHER TERESA.

Tender Softness of Love

Your eyes, yes your
crystal eyes,
keep me glued to
the world of rose,
and the myth of
sensual passion and
the aura of volcanic
geyser of love.

Your smile, yes your
lovely smile, spews the
fountain of gushing flow
of emotion, and deluges
my all vital organs with
the overwhelming temblors
of passionate love.

Your few moments with me,
notwithstanding just few moments,
never seem only few moments—
instead, in my mind, they
cross the boundaries
of eternity as I can not
fathom you to part
away from me.

You stay young in my heart,
blinking your eyes just
like little waves of
crystal clear water
reflecting the moonlight with
the tender softness of love.

Tender Softness of Love

Your eyes, yes your
crystal eyes,
keep me glued to
the world of rose,
and the myth of
sensual passion and
the aura of volcanic
geyser of love.

Your smile, yes your
lovely smile, spews the
fountain of gushing flow
of emotion, and deluges
my all vital organs with
the overwhelming temblors
of passionate love.

Your few moments with me,
notwithstanding just few moments,
never seem only few moments—
instead, in my mind, they
cross the boundaries
of eternity as I can not
fathom you to part
away from me.

You stay young in my heart,
blinking your eyes just
like little waves of
crystal clear water
reflecting the moonlight with
the tender softness of love.

A Better Poet

Beautiful sunrise,
soft dews on the grass,
mild cool morning breeze,
oscillating rows of bluebonnet,
sweet chimes of church bells,
picturesque rolling Hill Country,
may make myself,
if I am thoughtful and
creative enough, a poet.

Your inspiration,
your few words of encouragement,
your succinct complements,
your occasional prodding,
your little attention,
your frolicsome attitude,
your motivational guidance,
may make myself,
even I lack talent and
creativity, a better poet.

Tornado that Tore My Heart

Suddenly the sky is covered
by dark cloud as if
there will be a tornado touching down.
I am standing in the pasture,
looking at the funnel of cloud,
thinking about you.

I see you coming, accompanying
the imminent tornado,
with your electrifying beauty
and elegant air,
and creating havoc in
my heart and mind.

Just like tornado, I know,
you will leave moments
after you touch down in my heart,
leaving behind a soul
shattered and devastated
as bad as a demolished village.

Still, I want to embrace you,
even for few moments,
with grace and bravery,
and imbue myself with
the delicate veneer of your love—
ever fleeting, ever eluding,
ever slipping—and
relish the rest of my life
recollecting the tornado
that tore my heart.

Waiting in the Desert for You

Desert sand and vast horizon:
eternal call of mankind
reverberates with your
melodious voice of inspiration
that strikes the chords
of million minds.

Desert storm and blinding gale:
my ever-lasting cry for
little empathy has echo
traversing miles in the
vast expanse of rugged land.

I stand atop the
sand dune,
waiting with unwavering,
unshaken belief that
you will come someday—
yes, you will, to instill
confidence in me.

Frigid winter of the desert,
and the melancholic whisper
of wind-blown sand
reinforces my faith in
you with the delicate
touch of ubiquitous
charm and charisma.

Moon-lit sky full
of bright stars
illuminates the desert sand,
and my restive soul
with relentless waves
of passion
would like to call
for you to come,
and hold my hands once—
just only for once-
to lead me to the world
tranquility and eternal joy.

Message of Love

The meandering river,
and the surrounding rocky hills,
and the spread-out pebble stone,
murmur with a whisper
to convey your message.

Yes, your message of love
and love, and love,
that stays alive with
the eternal joy of heaven,
and shines the world with
the illumination of a bright star.

The world will hear
your message
for centuries to come,
and savor the sweetness
of love and luster.

Your message will
ring the bell of
harmony and honor,
and raise all the boats
in the river with
the rising tide of love.

The Poet

The poet is the tell-tale
of inner feelings;
someone who may define
the emotional trajectory.

The poet is the face
of the emotive expression
and the societal shift
In culture and tradition.

The poet calms
the ebbs and flow
of emotion in
a rhythmic way,
and brings a degree of
structure to convey
the waves of thought
to this beautiful world.

The poet is the harbinger
of peace and tranquility,
and plays the role of a
soother and a healer
amidst turbulence and uncertainty.

Wish Rain Would Never Stop

Wish you could be here tonight
to give me
a little soothing touch.

Wish you could be here tonight
to place your soft hand
On my shoulder.
I feel like a loner,
like a lost nomad
on this rainy Friday night.

Sat at a corner,
and keep looking outside
With a forlorn stare.
Seeping coffee slowly,
keep relishing those few
memorable moments with you.

I am reminded,
it is time to close;
I need to get off.
Wish I could stay in
my dream world forever.
Wish it would be
Beautiful forever,
wish rain would never stop.

I Wish I Could Meet You

In the long journey of life, I wish I could
meet you once.
To share some more stories of love
and affection that touched my heart.

In the solitary night, I wish I could
meet you once.
To enjoy the moon to shine your glittering
eyes with unparallel beauty.

In the turbulent wind, I wish I could
meet you once.
To see your curly hair unfurling on
your forehead and lips.

In the pouring rain, I wish I could
meet you once.
To see you get drenched, with water
droplets falling off your hair.

In the twilight, I wish I could
meet you once.
To see the sunlight greeting your
beautiful smile with splendor.

In the midst of rainbow, I wish I could
meet you once.
To put my arms around you and enjoy
your uncanny smile.

Feeling of Love

You and I stood on that warm night
holding each other’s hands.
I could clearly see your glittering eyes
in the midst of a bright full-moon night.

You came calmly and stood close to me,
and I felt the warmth of your love.
Your hairs blew aside your face
in the warm summer breeze.

I put my hand on your forehead;
You closed your eyes with innocent smile.
I brought my leaps in close proximity to yours,
And kissed you to quench my thirst of love.

Beauty in My Eyes

When I see your lonely face,
I feel for you from the bottom of my heart.
When I see you shedding tears silently,
I cannot but place you in my heart.

Your simple, rustic countenance makes me speechless;
Your natural smile fills me with warmth.
Your glittering eyes reflect the beauty of the world,
Your leaps portray the elegance of life.

Nothing is more effusive than your elegant talk;
Nothing is more soothing than your sweet manner.
You epitomize the beauty of blooming flowers;
You make me awestruck with embracing personality.

Your long hairs glisten brilliantly in glowing ray of Sun;
Your bucolic posture leaves me with an air of reverence.
Your spontaneous gesture stands out like a beacon of truth—
In the midst of arcane and artificial materialism.

My soul cries for you when you feel helpless;
I wish I could extend my hands for you to hold.
I long for your friendship and proximity;
I cannot separate you from my dream.

Passion

We hold hands together with sensual touch,
we stare at each other with unending feel of joy.
We enjoy our moments together with boundless
sense of comfort and closeness.

We may not know our destiny, but know the
contour of our unfolding sorrow and joy.
We cherish the warmth of love with
soothing candor and softness of heart.

We understand the depth of love and waves of
emotion that overwhelm our heart and soul.
We appreciate the passion that brings the two
souls together with an uncontrolled force.