Sega’s Way.

A process is going on
for twenty years
Can it ever see the light?

Whom I am to blame?
I am disappointed
my eyes  are fixed on the ground.

Sega conducts as he likes.
He is  not very knowledgeable
knows not how to conclude
leaves no space to any other.

He manipulates and interprets
the accounts and words respectively’
as he  understands
befitting his acumen.

Been authorised by the deceased
he is uncontrollable by law,
continues unopposed.

He contrives a winning smile
looks cunning and wary
I sigh and tell myself,
How long could this be?

Haiku. Poetry

The Log

The process log
looks simple but extends long
being very long.
process log


The Evaluations

The evaluations are intriguing
The poetic appraisal at times are killing
The poem is dissected and torn
the beauty is robbed
the idea is mulled
and the poem loses is identity.

The same goes with the physic as well
The small changes are shown big
the big ones create a scare
the physician pose themselves great
the apprehension creates panic
and the body turns weak.

The evaluation is to be taken
not to accurate form
limited to certain level
it is a factor that guides
it is not the end
as evaluation there are many options
that couls be considered.


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.


The Foregone Conclusion.

It is a forgone conclusion

that being not an inclusion

but a process on to the assumption

that would end the discussion

as there is no need for any deliberation

cause  having  taken the decision

the necessity for download (5)expression

do not find an intervention

allowing a smooth  and flawless transition

with that the matter ended up with a resolution

and the people gathered moved out with  a satisfaction.


Mixed Response.

Some like it hot 
 Some like it cold 
 Some appreciate the poem 
Some depreciate the song. 
So goes the way 
 all throughout the day 
 with criticisms heavy 
 mostly unhealthy in a levy 
at  times an applause rarely 
that would bring cheer barely  
 unconcerned be your  process 
 not bothered by the causes 
people differ in their attitude 
accept everything with gratitude 
go about your way criticism with pride 
 as that would lend   a pleasant ride. 

Lesson Life subscriptions thoughts Wish

On Becoming Sixty

 Is winning laurels  an achievement?

Yes, it is a rightful assumption,

Is becoming sixty years  an attainment?

No,it is a misconceived conception.


Celebrating the sixtieth birthday is a fashion,

Holding feasts and revelry  in honour of the day.

Attributing it to the stars and zodiac signs  is the reason

Spending hundred thousands in one single day.


Well ,that is each one’s wish is the defense,

Right ,is it not there a limit?

I stand out from the crowd which is an offence,

Yet,I will never admit.


 To me, aging is a natural process,

Everyone born undergoes,

 To me ,it does not bear any success,

It is only a natural recourse.


Oh! it was a big celebration people  acclaim,

Oh! there was a huge gathering,all proclaim

Oh! the food was delicious the crowd claims,

Oh! what a colossal waste, I exclaim!

subscriptions thoughts

Thaw And Melt

Thaw and melt seem similar,

But they actually are dissimilar,

Such that many frequencies

Differ in  subtle tendencies,

Bringing a  process familiar,

Which look absolutely unfamiliar.




It is a pleasure,

To watch snow thaw,

Slowly and steadily it starts,

Losing its fluffy form,

To a slushy soluble,

Shredding its snowy white glamour.



The stiffness slightly gets out,

While the numbness  gets away,

Performing a flexible play,

Promising an alert pray,

By striking a right chord,

At the propitious moment.




It is a desire,

To espy ice melt,

Quickly and hastily into water,

Dissolving into a liquid form

To a lively stream,

Of a lovely bluish silver.



The heat accelerates the  change,

Reducing into an almost  non-existence,

Mellowed into a mature state,

By undergoing a  physical process,

Which tags with it a mental stability,

Creating a less intense distinction.




Melting and thawing  generally

Are found in nature,

Recording a program of change,

Indicating that Change ,

Is the only thing,

Permanent and existential