The disciplined boy

The boy with the baby hair,

Never in any order.

Cluttered under a disciplined umbrella.

The umbrella of imaginary disciplines.

Not a thin skin with boundaries;

No bumps formed with the strings or like parachute;

Nor any pointed edges.

It’s a splash like white clouds;

At times the dark clouds;

Disorder was the order;

His baby head the cloud of chaos;

Being the cloud, never worried about the rains.

The child in you is the rain and sunshine;

Lightning and thunder;

No wonder; at times the breeze.

The breeze for all generations. 

Creativity

Learning is induction of creativity;

Any form of creativity;

Be it any field of endeavor.

Unlearning too;

 

Observation is like self-induced learning;

Self-induced creativity;

By nature.

 

Observation, the base layer;

Observation to learning, the next layer;

Learned, burned into memory;

One more layer.

Burnt memory into the creation;

The top layer, the final layer. 

Simplicity

She is simple.

Yes, not pretentious.

It’s still deceiving.

Why?

It’s natural to be simple.

Because she seems to be simple.

But complicated.

Not an easy one step equation.

Difficult to solve.

She enjoys it.

A simple riddle.

But puzzling simplicity;

That’s the new word for her.

Never to be defined.

Yet simple.

And humble.

Cocktail terrains

I walk on all terrains.

May be terrains walk on me.

At times on hills and mountains;

Swims in lakes and rivers.

Everything tells you a story;

From Stars to moon.

A story of devotion;

Sacrifices on devotion.

A poem of desire;

Sorrows and ecstasy followed;

A song of desolation;

Solitude in crowd.

A melody of love.

Beat of life.

The flow

It’s not me who writes.

It’s ghost inside me.

Not the ghost writing you heard.

Ghost inside me, writes you know.

You want to call it as soul;

You want to call it as God;

Saint or Satan !

What can I do?

Allow to flow;

The flow allows;

It flows;

It must flow.

He knows nothing;

But only to flow.

Compassion

She said: “He is I,

I could see him.

I could sense him.”

She knows, he is not believing;

He can’t; No one can.

She repeated: “I could feel him;

I could touch him;

I could smell him.”

He is beggar and the king.

She said: “I am not different from him;

I am his twin.”

Shyness is his kingdom;

He lacks courage;

She said: “I am lost in his shyness.

Lost the nerves too.”

She said: “He is a poor man;

And I am a poor woman.”

Arrogance

Not her level, she thought;

She said: “Not to my level.”

What level?

She blinked. She looked deep at him.

She did not talk; yet there were sounds;

Volume of sound seemed to be zero.

She whispered: “My level is different.”

Her lips did not move.

Eyes spoke the outspoken:

“I am unique. I am different.”

I could sense that; I could read that;

Everyone isn’t not?

She said: “No. Most of them are pigs.

I am no pig. I am the quality.”

Patience

I have seen patience of cats.

Waiting for his fish piece;

Mother waits till the final cleaning;

Till the last minute;

 

Finally, she throws a piece.

Cat jumps and eats with utmost happiness.

Cat’s wait was worth.

Nothing tastier than that fish pieces.

 

Mother said: “Not just fish pieces;

You eat anything, when you are hungry.

But patience of ants is the real patience.

Drop by drop carrying the food.” 

Anger

Injustice in front of your eyes;

Close your eyes; that’s better.

You may shout; you may cry;

As valiant as anyone;

A sound much needed.

You call me anger.

 

Justice suppressed behind you;

Eyes are open; but no use;

Shattered dreams;

Suppressed freedom;

Echoed an unwanted sound for many;

But a sound much needed.

You call me anger.

 

Not always needed; said the wiser men:

“Not great purpose always; at times it’s undesirable action.

Never met the purpose; a useless truculence.”

No, they were wrong; purpose was never there;

Just a human sound, like tree’s friction in the forest.

Friction can’t be stopped. It’s nature of wood.

It’s natural; you call me anger.

 

The extravagant

People call me showman.

Yes, I spend to show.

Call me hollow and shallow.

I spent a lot for external beauty;

No internal beauty; someone said.

I don’t know what they mean.

Never invited to cry with me.

People gather with me to dine and wine;

People laugh with me.

I make them happy;

They laugh, they smile, they applause;

I am happy; someone called me prostitute.

Then it must be great to be one.

Never thought about bad days;

Hollow cannot think.

It can only allow to flow.

Flow through me.

The miser

Rich men do lot of things.

They do spend lavishly.

Am I not rich?

I may be; Don’t know the cut-off.

Not as rich as Richie.

When I am number one;

I shall give.

Till that time, I amass.

Accumulate as much as I can;

Call me miser;

God gives more to people who save;

That’s why I save; never spent.

Following God’s words;

Call me miser;

I have no issues;

There is no happiness in giving;

Happiness is always on collection.

What can I do?

I am what I am.

 

 

Calumniation

 I tried to divide them; Yes;

It was never a lie; It was never a deception.

It’s the truth. But people don’t accept.

They tell me, I see myself.

That’s not correct.

He is a monster.

Thefts under the carpet.

Not my face; but his face. 

The fraudster.  Take it as my calumniation. 

I can prove it. I can prove it in the court.I ca

n prove it in the people court. 

I can prove it in the God’s court. 

Not seen his frauds, I agree. 

But fraud is a fraud. 

Fraud happens when you close the eyes. 

He can never be good. 

He can never be good. 

But I am too good, that’s why I could see those frauds. 

People say vice versa; I am not alone.

Admiration

Petals of roses were missing in me

The smell of roses was missing in me;

She always said, it’s deep inside you.

I believed; I worshiped.

 

He was bible; he was dictionary;

I missed the words; his brain filled my gaps;

I adored the shower of his words;

Flows like a Van gogian painting.

 

She was one of those ‘Dashapushpam’;

Ah ! not one; I must say;

All those tiny flowers;

Not at different times; all at once.

You really need to study the ten different flowers;

 

Reflections painted on his face;

Every action I had; his face reacted in alchemy;

It was never intentional;

Every taste generated from his soul;

Out of cry, out of laughter,

Out of pain, out of passiveness

Out of fun, out of all gazes; I admired it all.

 

Never had the inner drive before;

It was missing in me; till I met him.

Adored it all, adorned it all in my room;

Soulmate knows it. It’s my private room

My heart; my essence; my being.

Jealousy

 I am not happy glancing at her;

She is always happy; I pretended one;

She does not have anything;

That makes me unhappy; pretended weak;

I had the courage; tortured her minds;

Still she is happy;

People call me sadist;

People call me jealous;

I don’t know why I am not happy;

Many people used same tactics as I;

But I know, I am not happy;

I can’t see the happiness of others;

It is wired in me. Weird is it?

What is lacking in me?

Nothing. I have everything.

But I miss something; happiness.

First, I tried to protect her; she was tenacious;

Not falling in my trap.

Every trap I constructed for her; to put her down;

She disabled it with brilliant smile.

I can’t smile. I want to defeat her. That is the truth.

But I am with her.

With her or away from her; spoiling is failing every time.

Let me try one last time, I may succeed.

Do you think I am jealous ?

It’s just because, there is no equality.

To make equal, I spoiled her intentions. 

But she jumps over everything. She is crazy.

How is it possible ?

Every trap, she cracked.

Yes, I am jealous. I am sadist.

The world suffers;

Sadistic space has more acceptance.

That’s dark.

I am with the world.

The world is like me.

Generosity

The man gave it all in anguish;

By no means; you call him generous;

Found your face on his buttons; not in his heart.

Then, you can never call him generous.

That’s not him, that’s you.

But you don’t get it.

 

He gave it all in the words;

Words turned into blood and truth.

She could not feel it in the beginning;

It was never meant to be that way;

 

There was no choice;

But jumped into her ocean;

Ocean of happiness;

He gave it all from the despair;

Not from the rich diamond mine;

But from the selfless mines created;

Everything out of her fire.

Everything out of her flames.

Unwanted

 He and she never wanted it.

Wanted that by all.

She and he never created the want.

Both walked unwanted.

Appeared unwanted.

Not pretension or posing.

What must be true;

Must be true.

And what must be false;

Must be false.

Unassumingly innocent; and why is it?

He knows, he was unwanted;

She knows, she was unwanted;

Then why not;

It’s natural to feel unwanted the whole life;

Isn’t it?

Desire

 I want it.

 No one has it.

 Not my problem.

To hell with other’s feelings;

I want it all.

I can do anything to achieve; my want.

Who says I don’t deserve?

My want is most important.

I may insult anyone;

No; that’s not right, I will pick targets to make it happen.

There is no other way.

Call it greed. But who don’t have it?

Everyone. It’s good to have certain greed.

They want it too; They were clever to hide.

I am child; I don’t hide; but I won’t give in, it’s all mine.

You want to question me;

I will have hundred questions to you;

You will never answer;

I have the power;

I run the show;

I will take what I want.

You want to call it selfishness.

It is.

I just call it as positive aim;

Positive goal, positive dream;

It may be negation for others;

It is their hell; not mine. 

Passion

He is not acting big.

Not acting small too.

He is working on his passion.

The work of his imagination.

See; the above poem is too small.

Is it not ?