The Nomad
Sandwiched between places, I am a place Without a ground To call my own. I go here, I go there, Yet I am nowhere For a while; My while eats them alive. They talk in whispers, How my presence Bothers their heartless bodies. You wanted
Tag Archives: poetry
Mirrors
I feel nothing, nada, When I browse through all the faces in my time. Sunny ones, smiling kinds, contented minds, Adventures hide inside their green eyes. People are strangers without their thin masks; They wear them to pose a split second sign To create an idea
The Boy Who Cried Love
Moments pure wash up my gate, My eyes hold rivers of faint memories That pour out one by one, Like a touch of a girl in my hand – Soft and not from this world. Of whispers sent through the wind When I was too
Drowning Stars
City lights, You have drowned all my stars! Can I hate you more for Painting over my canvas? The quiet time of the lovers, Who used to prod for answers in the vast Had a world to explore; You have smeared it with your din.
The Philosopher’s Lullaby
Do you go to bed to eat your day? To make your misery go away? Or because your eyelids fall Whenever you try to stay awake? Are you waiting for a point in time To snooze yourself till you reach there? But all the unpleasantness
Utopia
When you are loved for every breath you make, Praised for every step you take, When you ask you get your own realm of space, When you walk and you reach a place, When you talk and they lose the presence around, When you are
Insane Eyes
Eyes of glory, Eyes with a story, You hold my gaze with reflections of a star; I think they are diamonds you wear for eyes. If you hadn’t turned around for a furtive glance, I might have failed to notice your eyes looking into mine,
The Road
I am walking.I think I am;The road walks the other way.A tiny kiosk sells death in all sizesWhile people flock in huge numbers to die;They ask for their favorite cigarette flavors.A girl preens her hair trying to findWhat she doesn’t look like in a vehicle’s
The Silent Epigram
When letters go silent in a word Where do they go? Do they ever make it out? How do people know That they are there? Not just anywhere, Hiding somewhere In a world of words In plain sight, And yet no one values their existence,
Reminiscing Book Review – Lakhbir Verma
Reminiscing isn’t a day’s work. You get that when you see a cadence of poetry caught between its whopping 200 leaflets. They speak of love lost, sing songs of tragedy, of a broken heart that claims to have reconciled but clearly hasn’t. There are years