Friday, 12 February 2016


Painting by Leonid Afremov

Figments of Monsoon

The tempestuous rains
slashes upon the windows
of my sub-consciousness

The paper boats float in
puddles, carved on the
wet lanes of my dreams

The ethereal air fills
my arid lungs with
 a tinge of petrichor

The parched longings
keep vanishing with
the hazy mirage
of my drunken desert

The hankering figments
burns bright and dissipates
within the chimera
of the delirious night

Wednesday, 10 February 2016


Painting by Paul Bennett

Answers

What dreams thy slumbers behold?
Which seasons thy breaths unfold?
Upon which path thy feet travel?
What secrets thy heart unravels?
Thou art pregnant with answers galore,
Wherefore doth thee beseech for more?

Saturday, 6 February 2016


Painting by Jules-Élie Delaunay

Muse

Thy glory unveils the curtain of naught
Thy touch illumines a slumbering thought
Thy hammering shapes the words galore
Upon thy command poetry gets wrought

Tuesday, 2 February 2016


                 Painting by Caspar David Friedrich

Manuscript of a Musafir

Sands of time preserves
 the enduring footprints
of an ancient journey

Desert winds carry
fragments of a caravan
bidding adieu to the mirage of life

Etched upon the murky pages of night,
a dream unveils the shroud
revealing a perennial tale of a nomad

Horizon unchains wild waves
smashing hard upon the
mighty rocks of kinship
 
A wayfarer, a vagabond
walks alone upon the dusky paths
amidst the silhouettes of mayhem

A saga of romance burns bright;
infected by the madness;
intoxicated by the liquor of infatuation

Lured by potent sentiments
grimed with satire;
a melodrama seeps through
the scars of a quill

In the light of dawn the
dried stains of ink glitter
on the mossy walls of a graveyard

From the ashes of past
a fallen hero rises again

 Beneath the crypt of memories
a manuscript still breathes
 a story of an undaunted Musafir  

Monday, 25 January 2016


Painting by George Frederic Watts

Poetry Shall Be Born

Sky, all barren and emptied of stars
Night refused to reveal its scars
Autumn winds casted the magic spell
The last hope of the spring fell
The ocean held back the waves
Fondles which now the shore craves
Winter froze the thoughts in veins
Ink spilled on the soul, leaving stains
Chaos has engulfed the forlorn town
The king has lost his precious crown
Corpses lay scattered in the path
Walls painted with the color of wrath
Bouquet withered away by the tomb
Humanity awaits the words to bloom
Every page seems all tattered and torn
Amidst the mayhem, poetry shall be born