Where was i

Where was I,
When life took another turn,
Looking far into the road,
Or just to the few steps behind.
Where was I,
When life was calling out,
Staccato lies and tantrums,
Anger, blame and doldrums.
Where was I,
When life took all away,
Not fighting till the end was near,
Of the pain too hard to bear,
Where was I,
When my love was taken,
Not by my steps, nor by my hands,
Nor on my waters, nor on my sands.

Wish

Wish I were a snowflake,
To melt slow at your feet.
To be water with you,
And flow quietly into the street.

Together

Little magic in me,
All of it off you.
Not as if we are different,
Just a matter of who's with you.
In waking, different to be,
In dreams together.
Magic is not off one,
But love is in dreaming together.

The stolen poem

A poet may live through,
That his words are only heard,
In the confines of his own.
Little can he gain in words,
For the words are his heart,
And her it was spoken to
Never struck a chord.

And then, another comes along,
To steal those words of old,
A little stop here, a word there,
In the theatre of life,
The game always is for the showman.

Little words are twisted,
The feelings laid bare,
For that, which was a beauty,
Is now crass enough to share.
Them that never got the words,
Now can smile,
For the song is now gaudy enough,
To engage the mortal soul awhile.
The colors are washed out,
The smell serene nomore,
The words taste insipid,
The beauty worn out.

For the mortal, beauty is not
The pain in the heart,
But for words that spell their name.
For the poet, beauty is not
The understanding of all,
But for the heart and nary a game.

But the poet turns,
Without a smile or tear,
His story is stolen,
As was his heart.

Slow does doubt devour

Ever it starts,
With a sliver in the mouth.
Oft repeated it grows,
The shape of thought,
Though a wisp it may be.
Shadows do slowly grow,
And doubts they become,
Death of hope slow.
Ever a doubt has come,
And turned not to blame,
That the father of anguish,
The precursor of pain.
Little things in little shadows grow,
Little things do devour slow.

On a night and more

Oh so glorious it would be to be free!
Living to a hearts content,
Be by the beach,
Shouting the head off,
With a smile turn back,
And see her hair fall on your face.
So beautiful it would be to be free,
To go have a fight,
For you knew, the kiss would be perfect,
And perfection should be savored.
You know the freedom
When she sings ,
And the quiet heart smiles,
For the song is in you and within.
So free to wake the mornings,
And see her beside,
Oh yes, the fight last night,
Is another of them that you forget.
For your heart is warm,
For she is there
And when the sun sets,
You can kiss her again.

ख़ामोशी के रहगुजर

हर लम्हा खामोश सा,
कुछ कहने की कोशिश करता है।
बेबाक दिल की गुजारिश,
पढ़ने की फिराक में रहता है।
हर लम्हा अतीत का,
आज की रंजिश करता है,
क्यों बढूं तेरे बिन आगे,
यूँ ही दिल में उफान आता है।
युहीं चल नहीं सकता बिन तेरे,
पर युहीं तो चलना पड़ता है।
गुज़ारिशों की साजिशों से,
तेरा खुदा भी तो किनारा करता है।
थोड़ा चल लूँ, या गिर जाऊं,
कफ़न तक तो चलके जाना है,
ख़ामोशी की ये रहगुजर,
परछाई ही बन चलना है।
बस युहीं चलदे तू,
मुझे अपनी राह चलना है,
दो कदम पीछे ही सही,
मुझे मेरे खुदाई में ढलना है।