This is a legible ballistic missile to evil (AA, PSP and their minions)!: A poem 

While Prakash Saint Paul is the enormity of evil,  Anthony Albanese is a mere appendage, pretending  to be wholesome populist generosity, when all else   of his wickedness fails! He has not even the glimmer   of confessionalism for his treachery! Would he even do it   at the fake altar of Pope most (Un)Leo; they may justContinue reading “This is a legible ballistic missile to evil (AA, PSP and their minions)!: A poem “

King Solomon, did your wisdom reflect regret and still uphold the righteous?: A poem 

(You know, I have no regret or grief that those unruly villains wanted to hijack my talents for decades; so, I did not bare myself in my verbalism and neglected my talents! But now being past 60, I feel I should no longer let myself be decapacitated by such villainy!) (I really despise you AnthonyContinue reading “King Solomon, did your wisdom reflect regret and still uphold the righteous?: A poem “

This is a garden the mind’s eye imagines, would it visit?: A poem 

Where even the early autumn sees verdant blooms  like those sacred Japanese gardens! You know, those picturesque flowers and   trees, and little bridges over misty ponds. And I am skirting the rubicon,  into a garden hard as willows, prickly as thorns, yet soft as silk  of the mulberry. Despite the odds, it feels like dewy petals! You can tell imagination seeks to define  what it perceives beyond experience, asContinue reading “This is a garden the mind’s eye imagines, would it visit?: A poem “

This is an ode to self-belief!: A poem 

I could see that mirrors never mattered to me  even if they revealed a physical beauty. It seems  that love for oneself is like a closet that rarely  opens out to be spoken, but if it does, then for dignity!  Truth can be dishonest, because honesty is   so deflatable, even the ghost of your aspirations  can snap to death with that! I was beginning to believe  in rightContinue reading “This is an ode to self-belief!: A poem “

So should I do…what needs to be done!: A poem 

(To the treacherous creeps – Anthony Albanese and Prakash Saint Paul) You know I wrote a poem in metaphor  at a seemingly hostile store  I know everything I do causes an uproar,   especially to those people stealthily and slyly in the know  Do you think I am afraid of them watching me?  Do they think I’m prepared for a no-show in the melee? Continue reading “So should I do…what needs to be done!: A poem “

Letter to my sisters: A poem 

If I could scan the skies and tell you all  what’s lost like the earth that is firmament  unlike the skies, that seem more vast and more  unreal. But do you see the stars are not   make-believe in their history, though time  flows differently on them, unlike here  We have only begotten this world like  a fragment of a humongousContinue reading “Letter to my sisters: A poem “

Dad, there is nothing hollow in the purity of belief!: A poem 

O my poor Dad! What is the habitability zone?  I gave you Olympus, but how could we have  become like clouds dispersing from one another  in the torrential rain? I am not going to freeze in such   disparateness, I swear!  I am not mothballing  like an old trainwreck! All the inconvenience  of the ages, all the trapezing and walking on  Continue reading “Dad, there is nothing hollow in the purity of belief!: A poem “

I don’t know if the laurels I deserve…: A poem 

I don’t know if the laurels I deserve,  will place me on the apex of Mount Olympus,  But I see all those olive branches in the float below  And I keep looking away into some sort of disconnection.  I have lived in a hope of love and truths, and seen them  dissembled time again, like mountains being carved out into streets Continue reading “I don’t know if the laurels I deserve…: A poem “

My dearest Mother, did I die, once more!: A poem 

Mother, I woke up in the morning and felt  the storm subside, only to reveal a distant pain!  Like after the storm, what does one do?  But feel the enervation or the energy to build   Paradise again? Did I die, mother? Did I cry?  Whose was the lie? Who was it that did conspire?  I thought again, with a ponder in a reflection Continue reading “My dearest Mother, did I die, once more!: A poem “

That we could meet one eternity…!: A poem 

I see the revolutionary in me falling  like autumnal dust mixing in the dew  on petals of flowers shriveling in the night.  And I feel the mindless rage of all the summers  that lived within me going barren, as if every  speck of soil on the mountains, every pyramidion  of the history I reflected upon,Continue reading “That we could meet one eternity…!: A poem “