A poem on the beauty of being simple.

This poem is for those who want to embrace their difference. Those who want to be proud of themselves no matter how they look, and who understand that we are not factory products to look all alike. This poem is about beauty, as denoted in the eyes of a young girl.

O girl of everyone’s dreams. 
Do you know, they said – I should be your likeness, 
have that perfect smile of Your Highness, 
or that posture like eucalyptus trees?

Should have been born with those eyes doe-like, 
or that color bargained from a fluffy cloud, 
& be like your beauty, ever wrapped in youthful shroud…  

Alas! alas! you are not the one I want to be like.

I am happy for not being your image, 
for not being the enchanting replica, or being one of many exotica. 
I am instead proud for a different, even if a simple visage.

I would rather have eyes capturing every nuance of feeling, 
a smile always childlike, never perfect. 
Even a posture known for its bouncing joy, not for being erect.
 Oh God! I am just glad to be Simple!
Poem – Glad to be Simple!

A poem on getting addicted to life itself instead of the shorteners to life. Try getting addicted to life and see how it makes a difference from surviving to thriving.

I am addicted 
and I’ll be 
to the froth in wine, 
to the speed of time, 
to the passion of game,  
to the lively names.

I am addicted 
and I’ll be 
to the whirls of smoke, 
to moments when broke, 
to run for the prize, 
to measuring to others’ size.

I am addicted 
but when’ll I be 
to the bubbling joy in the moment, 
to the miracles in God’s movement, 
to the enrapturing beauty of lives, 
and to moments when God high-fives..
Poem – I am addicted

This is not exactly a poem but just a rhythmic way of expressing an idea of how to change your world by just taking a stand. Many a time, we ignore small things and let them manifest as bigger obstacles later on. Won’t a firm stand at that first wrong step make a difference?

How difficult can it be, to just take a stand?

When your child comes out running with his friend’s pencil, calling it his own. Take a stand.
Your spouse breaks the traffic signal when no one is watching. Take a stand.
Your friend thinks it’s fun to eat unpaid chocolate in a supermarket. Take a stand.
Your employee steals his colleague’s client. Take a stand.
Your son decides to call a woman a bitch. Just ….Because on these subtle issues when all you take, is a stand.

Then,

Your child will not be a con artist but will steer towards a way where great people stand.
Your spouse will not cheat with extramarital, but will always be there with you to understand. 
Your friend will never betray your trust, instead, there won’t be hardships your friendship can’t withstand.
Your employee will not embezzle. And loyalty – he will not misunderstand. 
Your son will never be a rapist on the stand.

Did you ever realize that one correction at the right time can build a character in front of which, world kneels when you stand?

Hence never forget to take a stand.


A poem for those who feel that no one understands them. If you are one of these people, try to find a community where you can find like-minded people and see the difference it makes to your life.

We all have people around us who don’t understand us, but why are we stuck with them. Let’s instead find our own community, our own group, and enjoy our collective thoughts and ideas. For me enjoying my precious life has always been a priority. Giving up on it just because I don’t know understanding people is definitely not an option.

Do they understand me at all?

Do they listen to what I say?
Or is it what they think I say?
Maybe they do, maybe they don’t,
I think no one understands me, at all.

They all meet and look through me
or maybe they are really looking at me.
Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t,
I always think no one understands me, not at all

I write, I sing, I dance, I paint
Wow! they say. Is the bow a feint?
Maybe, maybe not.
They don’t, I think, don’t understand me at all.

I asked them to repeat what I said,
jumbling the words to another way they led.
Yes, they did, no they did not.
& then they said,’ you didn’t understand, at all
. ‘


This one is my favorite poem, and yeah, this poem wrote itself. Let me know in the comments if you like it too. This is how I look at life, one weaving itself with just a little effort from us. If we let the precious moments in life expand on their own, life will surely turn out to be magical.

It’s a beautiful poem
if u wanna read it again
and every time u read it,
u feel its not the same.

Tell me it’s beautiful
when words are signs,
and sense unravels itself
through invisible lines.

Don’t tell me it’s good
if there is only rhyme,
if it feels good to the ear
or coarse as in mime.

I wish to pen a poem
which will tell its next line,
which will weave itself
as melody, in its own time.

Then you call it a beauty
which will make it proud
as it has tried on its own
to be subtle while being loud.
Poetry being born

This poem is about the fears that we all have inside us, and the inherent need to face those fears. How every day, we struggle between our fears and the urge to overcome them.

Don’t Wake Me!

Don’t wake me as I haven’t yet slept. How can I, when I am still fighting the webs, the tentacles of realism?

Don’t wake me as I haven’t yet touched surreal. How can I, when I swim away from the flow, drowning at the shore?

Don’t wake me as I haven’t yet immersed. How can I, when I scan over the faces, running away from depths?

Don’t wake me as I haven’t fallen yet. How can I, when I shy away from danger, after flirting with death?

Why do I still want you to wake me, touch surreal, immerse deep? Even when I don’t dare fall asleep.


A poem on healing your heart. Let me know in the comments section if you were able to heal your heart, the way I did.

My heart was about to die, was ailing.
So I decided to look for it and heed to its failing.

It asked me to cry for all the pain,
and to hug all that came my way.
But I did that!

It asked me to jump and dance on the beat of raindrops,
to enjoy the swaying of trees every time I drive.
I did that!

It asked me to soar for the hidden joy in each day,
to tune to wisdom of those who listen to their heart.
I did that!

My heart was singing, soaring with joy one day.
I was surprised to know, that to my dying heart,
I DID THAT!
Poem – Healing my ailing heart

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