If only I knew

I never knew what I knew best
Had no idea what I was good at
Was used to doing what others did
Used to think was right what they did
Never knew what skill I had
Floating through life as events happened around
Never thought of steps to take
Just stepped on the one that was closer
Now when I see maestros all around
I realize why I couldn't realize like they did
Now it seemed easy thing to do
Something back then I could never do
And clearly I feel its too late
I am sure in future I will look back
And say that back then I should have changed
And in reminiscence ponder If only I knew

out of Prison

Freed at last I think

as I step out of these gates

so it is good bye to nasty wardens

and even nastier cell mates

out of these stuffy cells

I am now far away from nightmares

I now make an oath 

to never do a thing which will

give me a chance to have another fling!

with this painful prison thing

to keep my oath bad deeds need to halt

to be an angel! I have to start

I am freed at last now out in the open?

Have the freedom to live peacefully

this is a message to all dont commit any crimes

as anyways someday you will get caught

initiating your worst nightmares

p.s. I was inspired to write about this after watching Con-Air and Lock-Up. Not exactly telling the same story, just thoughts of a reformed criminal

Bloody Showers

Blood is pouring 

from the skies

atmosphere 

is darkening

I am nonplussed

never dreamt

of this happening

Blood is pouring 

from the skies

thought the people

would be hiding

shelter must be taking

from showering

but everyone is 

flocking outside

trying to garner

as much as blood

I am nonplussed

I got to know

from a maggot

that this blood 

aint ordinary

it is blood dripping

from a wound 

far up in heaven

the gods are bleeding

the wounds have been

made by a demon

the demon has 

nothing to do with hell

he is unknown entity

trying to rule heaven

so the result 

gods are bleeding

they are helpless

against him

demon has been

with powers blessed

by the gods themselves

by his penance

they were impressed

are now repenting

their mistake

pouring is blood

from the skies

everyone is wet

with blood 

heavenly blood

Fear Factor

They think subtle you are

even you feel right they are

They consider you meek

making you believe the same thing

Don’t fall for such tricks

go show them your fury

Don’t lay your arms down

be conscious of your strength

Thinking that you are helpless

is your biggest weakness

Have no fear

show no tear

Show the cheer

to beat this factor

Wake Up

We are reaping,
the offspring’s.
We are ignoring,
a tiny point.
That man is fallible,
is there evidence.
You are gullible,
not aware of decadence.
You need to wake up,
crawl out quickly.
From your hideout,
rinse eyes properly.
Brains need washout,
need of projection.
Of this demolition,
by the villains.
Against civilians,
you need to shake up.
You need to wake up,
you aren’t a princess.
Prince won’t come and kiss,
but misery maybe.
Soon kissing your heels,
man is fallible.
There is evidence
wars on everywhere,
crimes are commonplace.
Suicide isn’t mistake,
if you survive.
This butchery,
then you can fight.
Without machinery,
but you will have to wake up.
You will have to remove muck,
settled in your eyes.
Get the rush of blood,
straight to your head.
Don’t forget,
man is fallible.
Effects maybe terrible,
not even manageable.
Wake up,
wake up everyone.
Take action,
rebel .
Rebel or this crap,
may prevail forever.

My Comment:
This poem is to tell people to ditch
their habit of ignoring all that ails our society.
Stop turning a blind eye!

Ashpot

Why were they made the victim,
as they were my only kin.
Why was I only spared,
why weren’t bullets on me sprayed.
In my mind are fresh their thoughts,
and their ashes are fresh in this pot.
Left with only this to stare,
this pot full of ashes.
Everything now beyond my care,
to me nothing can possibly scare.
Now my body feels almost dead,
those gross scenes don’t seem to fade.
In my mind their yelps are resonating,
their smiling faces make me feel guilty.
Now I am left with no one to love,
no one to laugh.
No one to cry with,
but only this thing.
Ashpot

My Comment:
This poem is a narration of
what must be going on in a Kashmiri boy's mind,
after his kin were killed in a terrorist attack on his house.

Crematorium

He works in a place,
going there no one craves.
But they arrive one day,
Without much fan fare.
He works in a place,
crematorium is its name.
He saw tears in eyes,
false or true can’t classify.
To ashes as the dead are burnt,
everyone goes back home.
Some sit there and sob,
as if dead may return if they sob.
He isn’t averse to pain,
he has lost all he knew.
Know he sits there,
and waits patiently.
As the ashes slowly cool,
place gets deserted look.
He has to do his job,
to give the place a mop.
And wait for the next corpse,
and a follow up sob.
Again he will do his job,
to give the place a mop.
He works in this place,
crematorium is its name.

My Comment:
This poem is a narration of
point of view of a sweeper working in a crematorium.

Blood Stained Bodies

Blood stained bodies,
I see them everywhere.
Blood stained bodies,
their faces can be traced.
in this thick haze,
calling they are for help.
But I can do nothing,
for the blood stained bodies.
Because I am myself dead,
I just can't touch them.
Nor can they touch me,
I want to help.
these injured souls,
but I am lifeless.
I feel hopeless,
I am just watching them.
and their blood stained bodies,


My Comment:
This poem is set in a battlefield, it is a narration of a soldier who is dead. This soldier is dead. He can see his wounded fellows. He wants to help his fellow soldiers, who are injured, but alive, but he knows he cannot.

Read to know the purpose of this blog

This blog will be a forum for poems, that don't fit in the typical mold, that won't be published, which are radical, creative beyond understanding, socio-political, or show a picture of truth and reality. Majority of them were written from the year 2001-2003