Heart Loses its Tremor.

The days go by

encounter a lot of delays

unable to go about my way

it has been a lifetime

seen no rhyme

whatsoever, be it in wealth

be it in health

that is not all a strength

being a destiny I conclude

playing hard on me  rather rude

accept I without a murmur

while my heart  loses its tremor

well, it is to me all through.


Reblogged from


Ode To heart

The heart is never at one place

it  is always  on the move

a look, a read, a write in phases

a thought of food and sleep as proofs heart.png


I am at home most  times

my heart travels all the more

I sit  unaware of the clock’s chimes

my heart trots, jumps and runs even more.


The felicity of the travel it conjures

could be of no comparison whatsoever

it sees, glimpses, peeps without perjure

a nice little way to loiter around as ever.


The images it gathers in its distinct journey

the experiences it encounters all through

could be of nothing similar to the real  journey

has a lasting influence anyway all through.


The emotions and feelings it carries all the same

be the outcome of the day to day contentions

being active the subconscious plays a relentless game

while the conscious goes to sleep without retention.


The  roam of the heart turns extensive

a premonition being on the cards

could occasionally turn reclusive

a reflection at times of hard .


A heart of steel be the decorum

succumbs not to the wear and tear

if at all it  crumbles at the fulcrum

the physic collapses being unable to bear .


Saying so of the heart being an eulogy

the role of the heart is pivotal

unable to think of a fitting analogy

to”home is where the heart lies”being axial











listen mind Poetry trend

I Go By The Heart.

I go by the intuition

it is my way  of all time

might be a wrong notion

well that is how it rhymes

I listen to my heart

it dictates and detects

do I sound like a bard?

oh!  no, I reflect

Am I a romantic?

possibly so, in a trend

where the heart rules with a wand

a magical one all the more

as I thinkromanticism of myself more and more.

destiny. Poetry

The Music Within

The music I hear

causes a tear

the heart cries

the soul stirs

the eyes of the poor

though not speak words

express feelings of hurt

their suffering mostly silent

sings many a song

of struggle  and scarcity

their hands  bear

scars of toil red and black

their feet have blisters

the nails all broke

niggard they are

hear them rant

ignites a fire

that rises up

darkens the cloud

pours down as rain

a feeble way

to assuage their  bruise

smothers now and then

keeps them in the poor-in-spiritflow.



Take away the adjective
it sounds too wordy.
Take away the gerund
it makes it continuous
Take away the article
it looks very sedentary.
Take away the thought
it does not cope well.
Take away all the matter
they give a different texture .
All that is taken away by the poet
only the poem is not found
this in short is a workshop
that destroys the originality
very greatly they call
for thick-skinned people
with that the skin is torn and left bare
the poem is nowhere to be seen dissecting
repairs done without any retrieve.


The Stone Having A Heart.

The stone remains unturned
It is been there for long
being thee in the same position
braving the heat and rain
none bothering to turn it over.

What lies below it no one knows?
Why is it lying there no one knows?
With that being in the same place
and being in the same position
lying there untouched being a mystery.

People pass through it paying no attention
Children paly around it considering it a huge toy.
Lovers sit over it talking for hours together.
There being a buzz of activity all around it
yet it remains undisturbed and unperturbed.

The stone has no heart or feel they say
stone hearted being derived from this reference
let that be true as found in the annals
but to me I feel it has a feel too
that has become immune to the trials it had encountered.

The stone being most patient and bearing
stays there all through watching the bustle
never getting into it for heaven’s sake
it being also kicked and dashed by people in anger
staying silent and calm in the scramble
illustrate its silent laughter at man’s ignorance.


The Heart In A Race.

The words come out
as we write with ease
jumping out of the heart
processed by the brain
typed by the hand
while the eyes see all in print
the mind reads it with attention
call it proof reading
but before it could finish
certain other topics rise up
he heart deliberates for a moment
as it records them one by one
being a prologue
then a dialogue spontaneity
finally an epilogue
all come with such precision
the brains gets halted
the hands ache for a minute
but the heart propounds
more and more with such gusto
that all other faculties sit back
yearning for a break and a stop over
unable to cope up with the poet’s thoughts
but never  the heart pulls out from the game
as spontaneity is its by word
there comes with a gush
all the emotions that are recollected
with a delivery great and best.



Brain is dead
the heart lives in beats
the man sleeps . coma_1615608c


Started To Write A Poem

I started to write a poem
with keen insight diligently
halfway through
my heart cried
not at all nice.

Stroke everything off
and wrote once again
with descriptions
and scenic presentations
not at all good
said the heart.

Erasing everything
from of the paper
and from the mind
added the rhyme scheme
and elaborated the story
Oh! very bad  , so very bad
exclaimed the heart.

Disappointed  I threw
everything into the bin
went to sleep in disgust
with seething anger
cursing my inaptitude
fearing that I have lost
the heart chuckled. 


Why do you kill me?
asked I in indignation
not allowing me to live
nor die in peace
leave me alone
I shouted loudly
the heart mocked at m
I told all these it said
just for fun.




The Boil

Boiling over the kettle
whistled all in a settle
puffing and pushing
the steam escaping
through the gap
the heat is in a trap
if closed perfect
could bring effects
that would work out great
so do the heart
with its feelings in chart
would rise up and burst
if let in a with a fret
that be properly redeemed
would go down  in the steam
and fizzle out in no time
bringing good chimes.

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