Spoilsport

Rushing for meeting

Cars splash mud on the shirt face

Cells crying in pain

Leisure-pleasure

Sheets of rain pouring

Town washed out of gear no ride
Paper-boats sailing

Hope

Leaders’ hands are tied

Those who are led are tongue-tied
Head tide clears the knots

Realm of a poem

Realm of a poem 

A poem is born through poets, not from them;
Emotions nursed in propriety, in the worlds
Now lie in the hearse of words;
Totally cut without possession…ugh…c’est complètement parti mes amis!
C’est fini, alors c’est fini,
This mayhem!

Readers take over now,

Criticize; analyze, love, slaughter left and right,
The poet drops the pride and the vow,
Joins as a reader in the ugly pretty fight!

Wrong is heavy and loose

Let’s delve in the write so high and light,
Whatever be the choice we have nothing to lose,
Threw up everything on the page toute à l’heure in delight!
                                  
Let’s love the poets, who think otherwise,
For they, like us are also right,
We transgress as readers, wise, unwise,
Without prosecuting visitors;
For us – as part of them,
There aren’t any trespassers,
In the realm of a poem!

Messenger

Cliffs bring the sunrise

Light spreads into the valley

Morning teas wake up

Alarm

Hands jam hungry breads

Day queues up with many chores

Work honks at the door

Out of train

Train runs at high speed

Crowded stories talk non-stop

Eyes on windows look

Fillers

An airplane flies high
Sound reaches a silent hut
Mother feeds her child

Equation

Man money machine
Quadratic equation lies
Woman explores x

An invitation

An invitation 

Look into the palm.
On the near rooftop,
Hard as rock soft as arouse crop,
Wheels not needed for willing wings,
Climb aboard to fly and smile!
Readers so dear the paw marries,
No intent, no motive, no hidden malice,
Stable unfailing the hand to wed,
No fears or fights no dodge or trade!

Look into the palm.

Steady to the clear sky,
Nests inside seldom fake or lie,
With light and air and water abound,
Mount a little above the ground!
Readers to breed an open delight,
No caprice, no margins, no stunning fright,
Strong as rock and tender as erect crop,
It goes so smooth, it stays and sings!