Mother Departed

When he knocked the door,  

She was chopping vegetables;

And planning to mop the floor, 

And not even cleaned the table. 

When he asked her to join, 

She never got the moment to think;

And left the house in ruin, 

And the eyes never got a second to blink.

No more will she wait for calling bells

And none can complain her makings more

And she left without packings too

So her morning bell is unheard too.

Writer's Block

Ink filled pen, 

Themeless mind, 

Wandering as in den, 

And suffer as blind. 

Blurred image of ash

Flew without wings

And rest in mirage. 

Quietened lungs

Breath the pages

And broke the glass

And the lovely images 

Too rest in the grass. 

How it hurts!

You don't know, How it hurts!

When I am caged in golden house. 

You don't know, How it hurts!

When I am attracted by fresh air. 

You don't know, How it hurts!

When I am invoked by new blossom. 

You don't know, How it hurts!

When I am promised with freedom, 

But fulfilled with fetters. 

Grand mother

I crossed my legs, 

to hear her stories. 

Her icy hair dances in the darkness

And the shrieky voice is as cute as cuckoo. 

Her eyes dwelt upon my ways, 

And her lullaby knells in my heart. 

I crossed my legs, 

reminiscing the bygone days. 

She

Bathed in blood, she stood there, 

with fire in eyes and haft in arms.

She pierced the heart, 

which sold her soul. 

She snipped the arms, 

which hold her tight. 

She broke the legs, 

which looted her guts. 

Bathed in blood, she stood there, 

with warning in her arms for the staring eyes. 

Final Lyrics

   

Ashes from her graveyard, 

prompted her verses to fly. 

And her lines got birth 

And got applause too, 

But she laid their still. 

Ink which ejected her ideas, 

Was stained with stillness now. 

The pain of oblivion got voice 

And the  pain of separation is ignited.

But the poet was unlucky to see the flight, 

And was doomed of hearing her verses too. 

Now her soul is flipping the pages, 

And her grave is filled with music. 

Scarlet woman

 

Sold her flesh, to fill her belly;

Laid with many, to meet her needs, 

Known as whore and live in slums, 

She wept in the morning with, 

Pain of heart and curse from gut. 

She reddened her lips with colour, 

And garlanded her hair with jasmine, 

Waited for her visitor at alleys in the dark. 

Man with gentle look and loving family

Visit her in the dark like a mewing cat

And taste the sip of adultery with her.

But abandoned in the morning, 

She was branded as harlot, 

And punished for adultery, 

So wore the scarlet letter in the public. 

But her visitor known as a family man

Walk through the alley as a gentleman 

And wore the sacred letter among the public.