PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This world is not
mine. Space was silent. The crop
is burning. You cannot hear the birds.

Sun writes graffiti
on the clouds. The black hole has a hissing
sound, so I start surveying the horizon.

We were talking. How
your body breaks. You were your
own enemy. Who brought partition of love?

To love completely I -
surrender my hate. You will come
to me walking through flames.

I was trying to learn
myself in high fever of earth. Was there
an enemy in the neutral zone of death?

What is that which does
not belong to you. Unhinged sky
and sea will clap the brains.

I calculate the deaths
inconceivable to save the shame
of trembling poinsettias.

Sometimes I start
walking to reach the horizon
where the panther wears parchment.

What was the coercive
action of monks, who would
remain hungry till sun sleep?

Homeless mind
explores the meaning of the heart.
Pain was on its way.

Your voice lumbers.
I sent a balloon to god.
The figs ripen. We share under the moon.

There was a free fall.
I am going to jump on the spiders.
Take away my home.

A transcendentalist
was rising to the ultimate truth.
The moon now starts unveiling.

I am grateful to
receive the grief. Every one
says, he was always right.

I have not deceived
the ants. They walk erect and
in a line to pay the debt.

I will love you like
a moon-a new moon. Let's go
for a walk to put on the cologne.

My heart thinks. The
thoughts come and go. A sudden pain
comes like a tornado. Fog blurs the face.

Between life and death,
there was a thin embrace. Blood
writes the same name.

Light makes you poor.
There was a back deal for
a wake up call.

What was the nature
of your violence? Did you need
any philosophy to kill?

What was the beautiful
idea to skin a dead religion
unmade by a god?

When my hand strokes
a flame, the white ash will kiss
me. Were you savior of darkness?

Why low morale? Moon
will never say he was supermacic.
Icons were climbing down the trees.

The other side of the
pain was an evening song. Go Greek.
Life's struggles have no ending.

Real gods yet to be
seen. Ghosts are occupying the
temples. The earth simmers.

Brain fog. It is.
It is not. Just wearing the mask
to hide from the brilliant light.

Two moons leaving
the blue sky, came down to
search for the real truth of man.