From nothingness we came,

From nothingness we came, 
into nothingness we shall pass, 
and this life beautiful, 
is for only few years alas! 
Yesterday night my neighbor's, 
heart beat for the last time, 
tomorrow you may no longer see, 
me sitting on the garden grass.
and with each passing moment, 
we keep on breathing this air, 
until we have no more left, 
in our life's lovely glass.
but for only a few of the days, 
i lived in peace and harmony, 
while for the rest of the days, 
i busy was in the race to amass.
but from today i take this vow, 
to live each day with utmost class, 
to seek happiness in all little things, 
to have often whole hearted laugh.
So that when it is time to go, 
to death i can no longer say no, 
i know that i have lived enough, 
and happily i can declare 'ok to last

Time ..

Man is not left untold, untaught,
Untrained by Heaven to heavenly things;
No! every fleeting hour has brought
Lessons of wisdom on its wings;
And every day bids solemn thought
Soar above earth's imaginings.
In life, in death, a voice is heard,
Speaking in Heaven's own eloquence,
That calls on purposes deferred,
On wand'ring thought, on bewildering sense,
And bids reflection, long interred,
Arouse from its indifference.
The present, future, and the past,
It offers to our thoughtless eye;
That present is too short to last-
That past is gone for ever by;
That future comes-a stormy blast
That sweeps us to eternity.

Freedom time

Sweet times are here to be, 
If we give it the opportunity; 
That can not be taken away, 

And nobody can steel or sway.
Words will flutter and return,
The lights will flash and burn;
But freedom will always live,
From what we to freedom give.
Sweet times flow and spring,
Like nightingale to a world sing;
Be a cleft in a splendors whirl,
Or a billow in the oceans swirl.
Silences in rest and in speech,
Kindnesses to each other teach;
An invention of the world spirit,
Wisdom of its judgment and wit.
Sweet time like breeze in trees,
Compassion that mankind frees;
A wind that keeps nothing still,
The kindness and conquer of will.
Like a syllable and like a flame,
Resurrections of a peaceful aim;
Good times last a moment
bad times last forever.
The equilibrium between them
is unequal you will agree.
The good times should last
long into infinity
and the bad ones
should disappear within moments
and never return.
For freedom will always live,
From what we to freedom give

Sins of yesterday

So many lessons to learn but no one will tell you
the moral of the story, all great men died
You will too, I will too.
That fact pushes me to dig deeper, 
but not deeper than my hole will be, 
Humans are restricted, in some way certainly
Your body, mind and skin are prisons of yourself
So what are daily trials to freedom of spirit, 
Just a spit on the road.
Animals like ourselves deal with days and personal wishes, 
With who cheated who, and who said what and who saw who, 
An animal at least focuses on survival, 
and what are we, half animals half demons, one quarter angels; 
So many lessons but I will never learn enough to live
forever, 
We are still paying for the sins of yesterday. 

Silences

Those silences.
Those cracks in the even flow of conversation. 
They split paragraphs, then sentences, 
Finally opening up between the words themselves.
At first we step all over them, 
Trying to hide the gaps, 
To hide our discomfort.
The only thing that fits in them
Is embarrassment.
We fear their growth.
But later...
Later we become comfortable, 
Not embarrassed.
We stealthily, and little by little, 
Allow the cracks to widen, 
To deepen.
Our conversation becomes a means
To accentuate them.
They are larger, 
Bigger then the words, the sentences, 
The paragraphs.
We become fascinated
As they grow, 
Transfixed by their emptiness.
They begin to echo.
The widening gulf becomes
The thing we have in common, 
The glue
Holding us together.
They have become one great chasm
Bounded by mutters, and whispers, 
And under-breath speaking.
Eventually, there is only the
Long silence, 
Only the great yawn, 
Gaping, unspanable, breathlessly open
Beneath us.
Through the rest of our lives
We are falling, 
Falling in silence, 
Like a lost echo gone unheard.
And yet, 
We walk around as if nothing
Had happened, 
While, unspeakably, nothing did.
Nothing happened. 

Dream Space

In the dream space lies a source
that flows to keep the dreamers moist, 
till the dry words of remorse
wake us, crying to be voiced, 
and the languid lines that coursed
through the details of the dream
blur and waking, we are forced
from the bed to leave the stream. 
Pleasures that the dream endorsed
now to censors are subject
and with pleasures once outsourced
we no longer may connect.

Autumn

So soft the summer; so hard the winter; 
so sweet the spring.
So strange the autumn, with odd things walking
which, croaking, sing.
And in its dead, still, dark, foreshadowed
tunnel dead things crawl.
A voice heard shyly, a call of autumn, 
brings them out now.
A moon's soft pulsing, in silence draws them
from their furrow.
And soon will come a darkness quick-descending over all.
They travel swiftly, make no noise, 
except a rustling sound
Of books opened in shadow-
in dust and cobwebs bound.
They run the circuses of fear, 
the carnivals of death; 
And breathe the popcorn taste of flesh, 
a coldly autumn breath.
Not vampires, nor morbid ghouls
nor fiends from some dark hole; 
Not parasites of blood, but rather tabled at the soul.
The table-scraps, the leftovers, 
the refuse of humanity; 
They feed upon its doubts and worries-
play upon its vanity.
They perch atop the gaping skull, 
their talons in its sockets, 
And chew the bones of brittle men, 
and lock the minds in lockets.
Their yellow, baleful eyes blink once, are gleaming; 
The talons release the well-worn skull, 
Then deep inside we feel a soft pull, 
And we run through the moonlit desert, screaming. 

Enough is enough

We are the guardians of this world 
yet we try to destroy it with greed. 
We chop down rain forests here and there 
not caring about the wildlife who share it. 
We fish certain species to distinction 
not thinking what we do.
Mother Nature then says enough is enough 
and throws us a few warnings 
to take heed and mend our ways. 
They come in the shape of violent storms, 
floods, earthquakes and such 
to show us she means business.
Still we ignore her warnings 
carrying on as if nothing has happened. 
We just carry on poisoning 
everything greed wants to control 
until one day and it will come 
we will have nothing at all.
Poisoned atmosphere not fit to breathe, 
poisoned waters not fit to drink 
and cancerous radioactive sore no one can heal. 
By that, time it will be too late 
greed will have secured that 
and this world will die along with us.

Broken mirror

The girl in the broken mirror
With eyes so full of tears
Will pick up the peices
That he's left behind.
She vows she'll be stronger, 
And not fall for another man.
But the girl in the broken mirror, 
Just needs to understand.
Love can be so perfect at the time
And then can dwittle away.
But a new love will come around
And whisk you away.
Dear girl in the broken mirror, 
With her eyes so full of tears
She needs to know, 
She shouldn't give up, 
There's a better man out there
Just waiting for her
Patiently waiting
To show a love so true.
To the Broken mirror
That needs to go, 
And to the tears
That need to dry, 
And to the girl 
That needs to fly.

Somewhere..!

As we walk life’s journey 
that is not without its tears, 
sometimes we find a small pocket 
of happiness that carries us through 
until the next one comes along. 
Sometimes we find turmoil 
of which there is little escape from. 
Our direction gets mixed signals there. 
The next day 
we are back on the road again. 
The one leading us
to our final destination 
in the future somewhere. 
We all need sadness 
to show us how good 
happiness can really be. 
We all need heartaches in love 
so we can recognize 
the real thing called love 
when it comes along.

Your child your pride

True
Our children are our pride
They give you
Immense pleasure
With their glowing innocence
And
Such newly discovered expressions
Which you have not experienced earlier
Their growth
Is always showering on you
A sense of satisfaction
Their intelligence
Is always rated by you
To be much higher than
What you possesed in your childhood
Their observations are
Special to you
And you waste not time
In executing corrective or preventive actions
To satisfy their needs
And you do that all with great pleasure
There comes a gap
As they mature
And you are relieved to see
A new childhood again
When your grandchild comes in your life
You see a still higher degree
Of innocence
And intelligence in this generation
You feel your grandchild
Has much greater potential
To achieve than
Your own child, leave alone
The very your own self
As you have gained
Some more maturity
Than what you had when you reared your child
And have crossed
Hurdles with deeper troubles
Your association with the new arrival
Gives you more pleasure
Than what you had with your child
Not only that
With a renewed syllabus 
In the study of life
Your grandchild looks a professor to you
Had you seen a teacher in your child
Your grandchild guides you
Through a research project 
On this subject
And confers on you a doctorate
Or rejects 
Based on your self searching skills
And learning abilities
Your child your pride
Your grandchild your guide

Success

Let your tears come down from your face
And run down through your face
All the way to the earth .. now tell me!!What is the journey to success? 
Success is not gained by defeat
Success does not occur over night
Success can emerge at any age
Success is working to full potential
Success is courage
Success is lending a hand 
Success is not listening to negativity
Success is being positive
Success is living your life instead of the life of others
Success is being proud
Success is overcoming obstacles
Success is striving
Success is listening to your heart
Most of all success is accepting
What you have accomplished 

My questions are blowing in the wind

The front line on the battlefield is composed of humiliated, shoeless teenage soldiers.
Minutes after an oil tanker spilled into the ocean, a burning fighter jet fell right into it.
Global warming is causing the troubled water to rise above the bridge.
The defense industry was on mushroom cloud nine.
Both ours and the enemy’s overpowering furies shrunk every peace keeper’s high horse to a chess knight.
Even my questions are blowing in the wind.
The last battle was an invisible one.
All of this is why postcards from Hell are always free

Identity

Identity is not what I promise others
Identity is what I do when I am alone
Identity is what I think of others
Knowing all the hatred they've shown
Identity is what every wound reminds me

Identity is what I learn and what I pass by
Identity is what I see in the mirror
After giving my best try
Identity is what I make out of my given chance
Identity is what I accept and what I deny
No one else has control over me
Life is about us, and what we identify 

Brokenness

Broken lives, 
broken dreams
all we want to do is scream
when someone dies
when we're hurt
all we want to do is cry
maybe that's what life's about
living with all the brokennes
maybe we need to have hope
that our lives will get better
or maybe just letting go
is all we can ask for
Less or more
but
Sometimes we give a measure of who we are 
to people who are strangers. 
We give them friendship, 
our courage to carry on 
and our respect for who they are. 
We never ask for anything in return, 
we do it because that is who we are. 
We hold up no flags or banners 
to announce our presence 
because that is who we are and always will be.

Burning Sun

Sitting in a serene silence 
having left chaos behind 
away from the world 
and its daily grind. 
Sitting and letting your mind 
stretch to freedom 
and new universes find. 
We can reach out 
for any star we choose, 
enlighten our world with knowledge 
that comes from an inner truth. 
Just sitting and pondering 
as the world goes on by, 
soaking up the things 
like a coral sponge. 
Making the road more tangible 
for the day when we have to run 
the mile of enlightenment 
underneath a burning sun.

The River

The river of life flows swiftly,
turbid and deep, never still.
It rushes on, cutting its course
through sorrow's valley, over joy's high hill.
It sighs, it sings, it murmurs;

it roars a hearty protest
As it meets each newly found challenge
and rises to the test.
Each of us has a restless wave
whose variant crest we must ride
To face each day to its predestined end;
to sink or float with the tide.
The river tumbles on, rushing each bend,
over rapids of turmoil, waking whitecaps of pain.
til at last it reaches the delta of peace
to sink into the earth once again.
a new mouth, a wellspring, a source of release.
The river of life flows swiftly over rough and smooth terrain,
Forcing its way with the current, seeking what fate will ordain

A litter from Mom to her family

My name changes day to day
who will i be today
I have such a list
I've lost my way
i'm a
Momo, mom or wife
Friend, lover, a mother or me
who do i wish to be today
i have such a responsibility
to each name that's been giving
I've lost the person inside of me
whats her name 
does she like to laugh
does she like to love
does she like to live
or am i who I'm day to day
i had wishes dreams and insperations
inside of this head
things i liked or things i did
but that has all seemed to fade away
with the person who was once inside of me 

It's okay to cry

When all that's around you
Seems awkward with trouble
When people surround you
And make your work double
When all you can think of
Is why do they pry
When words seem to fail you
It's okay to cry
When all that surrounds you
Is hopeless and sad
When some people harm you
They treat you so bad
When they leave you so lonely
And tell you a lie
When no thought seems to comfort
It's okay to cry
When tears sting the lonely
And your empty heart aches
When your question you ask
Is why my heart breaks
When friends reach a hand to you
Once more you ask why
When you sit there and wonder
It's okay to cry
When you ask yourself why again
Your heart full of fear
When all around hurts so
Just too much to bear
When you need help understanding
You know you must try
When nothing else helps you
IT's okay to cry
Put you should know that
Crying our past a river, 
Will never give you another chance
So, repeat this wise words after me .. with a load voice 
I fall, I rise, I make mistakes, I live, I learn, I've been hurt, but 
I'm alive, I'm human .. I'm not perfect but i'm thankful.

Bridges

Each day we cross
the bridges of uncertainty
never knowing what
we might meet when we get there,
but we cross them just the same

as life must go on.
The bridges of uncertainty
lie everywhere in our path
from our first steps in the morning
to our last steps at night.
We walk our lonely miles
never knowing what we might find
or what our life will bring.
Sometimes we find love and happiness,
sometimes its tragedy and misery
that befall us there.
Sometimes it is sunshine in the rain;
Sometimes could i found you
on the other side of the bridges of uncertainty.