My Blog on This and That

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Experience


Nothing but words
Memory in script
Of years hard and soft
Clipped fractured sliced
Then mended again
No room for blood
In the game called
Experience

Street Performer


He is dressed in white 
from head to toe
Stiff pose
Painted face
Sans expressions
Not a blink,
Eyes focused
At distant lamp
He stands there on a box
In the town square
Un-flinched
People walk around him
See him
A passing glance
Is he a man?
Breathing, or
A stone sculpture
A monument
A living legend
Happy child comes along
Jumping, laughing, skipping
Throws a coin in the tumbler
The mask man moves
to thank her
Child shriek with fright
People stop to gaze
He is no beggar
But a street performer
Much disciplined
In a race

Made Friendship With Pain

I have made friendship with pain
It is here to stay
There is no escape
It leans against my skin
Squeezing the nerves within
Begging for attention like
A spoilt, pampered child
When I ignore it, it will sleep for a while
Is back again when I stretch to a comfort line
Sits closer to my bosom
Never out of sight

I have made friendship with pain
Cause I have no other choice

I Cannot Help You


How can I guide you, 
When I am lost too? 

The little nuggets here and there
I had pick up on my path
Shuffled them up
Spread them on your path 
In front of you

You learnt to walk
Watching your own steps
Reached your own destination
I did not help you 

I was there
just standing on curb
watching you...

It was you
Who taught me 
To trust you.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Canvas


Splash paint on canvas
It's not the brush that moves
colors sprinkle delight

Script In My Mind



Nothing but words
Memory in script
Of years hard n soft
Clipped fractured sliced
Then mended again
No room for blood
In the game called
Experience

Street Performer


He is dressed in white 
from head to toe
Stiff pose
Painted face
Sans expressions
Not a blink,
Eyes focused
At distant lamp
Stands there on a box
In the town square
Un-flinched
People walk around him
See him
A passing glance
Is he a man?
Breathing, or
A stone sculpture
A monument
A living legend

Happy child comes along
Jumping, laughing, skipping
Throws a coin in the tumbler
The mask man moves
to thank her
Child shriek with fright

People stop to gaze
He is no beggar
But a street performer
Much disciplined
In a race

Pain - My Friend

I have made friendship with pain
It is here to stay
There is no escape
It leans against my skin
Squeezing nerves within
Begging for attention like
A spoilt, pampered child
When I ignore it
It will sleep for a while
Is back again when 
I stretch to a comfort line
Sits closer to my bosom
Never out of sight
I have made friendship with pain
Cause I have 

No other choice

Wednesday, June 05, 2013

Book Shelf

Artist- unknown

So many stories behind this shelf
of travels, romance, adventure
a tapestry of emotions 
Unfolds from page to page
transporting me to vast
fantasy world...

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Lotus



Pity 
Nobody heard 
Lotus screaming..
They just watched 
The poor lotus 
Drenched in muck  
Let it glorify the pond 
With its beauty..

Selfish world..
Knows not to read 
Between the lines  
Sees not the pain of 
a helpless flower
Stand in vain

Monday, May 20, 2013

Music Stayed With Me



The music stayed in my mind
soothing,
creeping softly on my nerves
hissing
unaware of its movements
on my skin
I played on
lost in fantasy
into a different world
where the angels dance to the rhythm
of the soul
gliding in space
seasons changed
but for me
time stood still

Thursday, May 09, 2013

The Conqueror

Conqueror by Veri Apriyatmo 2008


Lost I was in sea of uncertainty
wrapped with unforeseen dangers
did you search for me?
did you truly missed me?
would I be rescued, I wondered

captured and entangled
no hope for escape
like a bird in a cage I fluttered
exhausted i lay, rejected and abused
in a naked glory
I forget myself

Monday, May 06, 2013

Double Talk

Double talk
Double meaning
Wish you could 
Talk direct
In simple words that I understand
Your words 
When they pass through a maze of emotions
Are too bent and distorted
Crumpled 
They lose their strength
Become too weak to lift our friendship to a higher level
They lie 
Neglected
Ignored

Alone

Thank U for this award

Thank U for this award
It feels good to be appreciated
I could Be A Poet, er..Am I?
I craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways and I have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery or describing the most intense heartbreak ever I am already naturally a poet, even if I've never written a poem. But I do, I do, I seriously do…

Out of Box

Learning Computers

Learning Computers
Computer books for kids

Learning Mathematics

Learning Mathematics
Worksheets in Maths (set of 24 modules)

My Published Nuggets

My Published Nuggets

n dey read my poem...

   

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Do you love what you read here? Copy, churn, reproduce, share or imitate....knowledge is for sharing....But, do acknowledge me, or better still.... send me a copy....... @Pushpa Moorjani
The Keys to My Heart
I am attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, I feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and I am told that I am loved. I would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic. My ideal relationship is open. I can talk about everything... no secrets. My risk of cheating is zero. I care about society and morality. I would never break a commitment. In this moment, I think of love as something I thirst for. I'll do anything for love, but I won't fall for it easily.