Drunkard who surrendered…

As i peep through my window,
laying like a body..
on road, flatter
i see the punk,
was a smart ass, now shattered
yeah he surrender..
yeah he surrender..

oh yeah!!
den it laughed at him..
his fate… a comic destinee…
as it raged through the veins..
jst gazed, was jaded wid strain..
like a mistereee…
no punk..its free..
the pain…
oh shit !! the man is insane…
i hve seen him
rolling on the roads..
drunk.. no money..
think, he was robbed..
buzz… doesnt even matter…
coz he surrender…
coz he surrender…

Night eats you and your love fade in dawn and pain is gone. Here is my personal favorite, took me just 2 mins to compose but i guess, some thing your don’t create, they are just sent into you. Do read “Victims of dark”


About Myself..

My Age does not define,
How old my heart is,
Nor does the Weight,
that i have put on,
Tells you anything,
of the things i have gone.

School, in real was the “Life”
and also a building, i used to go
What is it, then would define,
the complete answer to “Me”

I didn’t dominate any field of study
All i was interested in, was Funny
I read shakira’s Curve and HImalaya Herbs
Gaga din’t made any sense to me,
I watched football, read news, with tea

Didn’t have an opinion,
which will lead to a decision
Had a say on every topic,
thing missing was precision
What is it, then would define,
the complete answer to “Me”

I am the Dream, my parents sight,
I am the hero, my pretty girl like
I am the help, my friends call
I am the support, when a close one fall.

I am not “ANY” guy in the background,
But the one who will capture the click.
I am the guy , your wife would say thanks,
for a lovely memory captured, and smile every time
She saw it.

Originated from:


Welcome to Hell

Its raw… its raw…
The road is so ghostly…
It crowded mostly…
There’s a truck in my sight
As, I closed, my eyes…
I hit nothing, as I crossed by…

There’s sun around me,
And I am in the shadows of pillars,
The biker around me, they seem like killers…
The mountains of sand… And buildings so grand,
It all a rusty feeling…
Its raw… its raw…

And that lady in white…
She seems so bright…
Skinny, her legs are long.
Its nicely waxed and toned,
There’s a call on my phone…
It says,” home”
Oh god, there’s no one home
Who’s calling…? who’s calling…?

The way she stare,
It’s threatening glare…
I am freeze and stun…
Struck, wanting to run….
It peace, and every leaf is freeze
But I can, sense some violence
I breathe so loud… Its scream in silence…

Hypnotized, not going, I am taken…
She touches me, with her lips, and I am shaken….
Its the kiss of death…
And into my last breathe…
She disappear, and it a grave,
There’s a message, below RIP.
To read, I am not that brave,
Suddenly, it catches my eye…
,”pick the call, on your cell”
As I answer the call, it says…
,” it’s the house of death, welcome to hell”.


All that comes has to pass.

On dry land, with no hope.

Sowing crop like a farmer

Whose faith is thrust?

In god’s trust.

“No results” doesn’t de-motivate

As pain and glory

Come and rotate. .

So is the rain

Which wash the pain?

Growing crops of only hope. .

Rough land dwells tuff farmers


Dead but living,

Awake but sleeping,

Dark gives the zeal for vision,

Light outshine the eyes,

When the good is bad,

And bad is good,

Than who am i!!

To differentiate the two,

When all is by lord,

And he holds the chords.

I am dead but living,

Awake but sleeping.

Worlds is nothing but a bucket,

He is playing, we all are puppet.

Thanks Giving 2012

To start With: Its been a over a year since i started this blog, and probably is the time when i could say that i have started to understand how it works here on WordPress. Journey has been wonderful and amazing people have been added to my community of fellow bloggers. The report 2012 compiled by these wonderful people working in the back end of WordPress shows that i have a wonderful stay blogging here. 

My achievement: I was seriously overwhelmed when the number of Likes crossed 100, and than the Followers just started coming. I can literally remember the day when the Total visits crossed 500 on a single day (And also when it died at 497 a few days prior). Page views have now crossed 23000 and also the likes and follows, but than i realized that these were just the numbers. What i really earned from WordPress were the community of Bloggers who have showered their love and blessing with their constant presence over my blog.

For Award Nominations: I was lazy enough to ever have complied with any of the award’s requirement. But it does not in any ways undermines my courtesy towards the sweet and nice people who found me worthy enough to nominate me for an award. 

Gratitude: I have done is earlier and i would like to do it here again, to thank the beautiful people who came and appreciated every post with their interpretation  when i myself was confused as to what i wanted to convey. 😉 On the other side i envy, many a times scrolling through their WordPress Site. Its the beauty of expression and precision with which they present their thought. 

One Wish: Little would i have asked, after a more than expected response to my poetry work, but one thing. And that thing is to be on the Freshly Pressed Page.Wonderful is the reading we get there, and makes me aspire as to when i will be able to publish some thing of that quality which would take me there, right on the top of Freshly Pressed Page.

Crying in the Rain

What is being happy all about?

Who among us is in pain?

I have seen the rich crying,

Some poor laugh insane.

To laugh is not to be happy,

Pain sometimes makes you smile.

It’s something other, so special,

God and his unique style.

Comedians, they make us all, to laugh,

It’s a side of them, which covers the part.

Why is it, that the one with so many friends,

He is often the one, is often lonely at heart.

It’s a virtue which, the best comedians had,

They made us laugh, even when they were sad.

Best jokers were mindful, they were sane,

Had it not been true, why Charlie would had said,

That he liked to cry in rain.

Tears, they don’t follow a trend,

We cry at our best moments, nothing bad,

And we laugh out really hard,

When our heart is opposing, actually sad

What is it, then, means to be happy,

How is it feels to be esthetic?

May be it’s, about been in love,

May be its, to have fame,

May be a good job, or family,

Confused, is the nature of game.

Whatever it may be, Glory or the pain

It surely must be worth crying in the rain.

Cloud Watching

Posted on February 5, 2013
a wide-eyed piglet
gazing – solemnly – at the sky,
ignoring the mire it sits on.

1 thoughts on “Cloud Watching”

The Child At The Station

Kid at the railway station

He is naughty and crazy, loud and sport..
He has coped with the situation, hard he fought
He sell tea to passengers, and sell hope..
Keep running from here to there,,
Don’t mess with him, shout on him if u dare..
Has no family, but has friends,
lots of them, he call it a gang,,
life finds its way, out of adversity,
beauty from dirt, pretty or witty…
He is not alone, thought have the pain
At age 10, he surely is sane
Earn his living, though no school..
Speaks witty English, and think it is cool..
He may not be well of, has not taken defeat..
His face still have a smile, heart has a beat
It is how he will grow, this generation,,
He is, The child at the station.



Inspiration form http://grizzlybeargibbons.wordpress.com/2013/02/05/the-child-at-the-station/

Colorless Rainbow

Tonight, for my moon’s pride.
Its goanna rain till dawn. Heaven sake.
And the color on my canvas. .
Some themes for pain. .
In between the cigarette inhales. .
The circled smoke . .
Causing disturbance inside, my nerves..
Is the peace outside. .
Staring the silence and gazing layers. .
I found some colors. . Some dark some fair. .
Its the dilemma of a writer. .
And some pure coincidences. .
Liking what i wrote
and hating what i thought. .
For a soul. . Its sin. .
And its goanna rain till dawn. .
Coz she cried like she mourn. .
Goanna be the longest night. .
I ever faced in my dream. .
And i am fighting the invisible. .
Stronger it seem. .
Let me be biased. .
And mould my thoughts. .
Coz i can’t lie. .
To my inner gross. .
Let me be dreaming
and woke me in middle. .
So i can’t get over. .
Ending my riddle. .
Let it rain. . Diluting my color boxes. .
For. . I don’t paint. .
With color of Satan. . Coz, i ain’t no saint. .
If the color be so dark. .
And its destined it to be. .
I better draw white. .
And let it go. .
better satiate,
in a colorless rainbow. .