7 A.M

Bulbul's last day of School,

She would be free tomorrow,

She would be at college tomorrow.

"I have college at 7 tomorrow"

She woke up at 6 tomorrow,

She dressed up for college tomorrow.

She was there at 7 tomorrow,

In an empty class, all by her own,

An hour later, there were many more.

She was there at 7 again, tomorrow,

In an empty class, all by her own,

"I have college at 7 tomorrow"

She was there at 7 again, tomorrow,

In an empty park, resting on His shoulder,

"I have college at 7 tomorrow"

~nanda

Aside:

Inspired by the regular sight

of lovers in a park during

my morning runs

RUN !!

My extremely short animated video :D

A Word

He Wrote the word with Earnest Care,

Chisseling out Letters in a Tender Embrace,

Nervous Fingers balked at the task,

To engrave the unsaid, All In a Single word.

Unformed Unfathomable Words, That

Weighed Too Heavy for lips to Utter,

Words which pulled the Lips to a Kiss, Words

Which only two love-lorn lips would procreate.

Jailed in her Jolts, Unable to Escape an Express,

Aspiring to let them fly free, he fluttered

Sensuous Strokes that would tell a Tale Of

How a Thousand words wouldn't bear that which,

Only a Lone Word, would out-weigh, and Paint in

Myriad Hues with his Delving pulse A Picture,

All Captured in a word, in a name, in her name.

~

nanda

~

The Lashing Rain froths up a Calm,
A Placid Peace Prevails in its Noise.

No, its Music. As a Million Beats
Throb the Muddy Ground, Coaxing out a Kiss.

They Stand 'neath a tree, Seeking Refuge
from Invading Drops, that Only Suck them Closer.

She welcomes his Arms around her, A fortress
that he builds, under his brooding brows.

He envies the promiscuous drops, as they cheat
their way onto Her Lips, Leaving behind,
A Trail of Lust, which he Furtively Follows,
with a trembling delicate invisible finger..

He claims her succulent treasure, as she surrenders,
not with shame, but with a burning flame,
That Devours. And when the rain seeks recompense,
they bite a small nip, and Ooze a drop of blood,
that falls along, A sacrifice, to satiate the rain-drops,
with their share of Life, and they leave to scourge,

For another Place, For another Pair,
For another Drop..

~nanda
0230 hours

Sharpened Pencil

A String Of Haiku Poems that tell A Story:

Sharpened I, My Pencil Twice,
To Carve In A Page,
Letters Of Love, In Rage..

Silence Evades, the Nil Night,
A Rick-shaw sputt-ers,
Dogs Howl, Adding Voice To Noise..

Feets Ache, Sleep Beckons Embrace,
Red Bed Light Nudges,
No, I Stave, A Lyric Waits.

Winds Arouse, Rustles O' Leaves,
Breeze Please, Take my Fees,
Grant me Three Poems, On Lease..

~1~
Lux-ury, To Admire Rain, Or
A Fi-ery Lady
In Bed, You Have it Made, Mate!

~2~
Sa-ree Clad Beauty in White,
Mad Mon-soons Soak Her,
Gods' Greed Claim Her, Be-fore Me..

~3~

Her Lips Tremble in Mur-Murs,
As I Suck Her Breath,
Tremors Can Quake, In Love's Act..


And So the Sa-ga Does End,
Of Leased Mid-Night Poems,
My Pencil Blunts To A Bow..

To Be Sharpened Yet Again,
Twice, Or Maybe Thrice
Perhaps, On Another Night..

6.6.11
~1:00-3:30am
"Nights Belong to Poets and Madmen"
Who Might I Be?

-nanda