Dreary of the eyes

What do you call those eyes
lost in the blackness of
the world haunted by humans ,
afraid to swallow the stars too bright .
Where the innocence hides
beneath the bruises turning to blue
and the sparkle just floats surging
with waves that never reaches the shore… 

The runaway girl

 

Out of the million Out of the million stories
I heard one
Of a girl running
All over the world
Through the solemn storms
Through the unchained winds
In her only pair of shoes

Ran past the closed doors
The windows that never smiled
The curtains over the wounds
Under the greyish sky

Across ,
the letter box covered in snow
The chimney’s smoke
The roads that never lit
The crowd’s wit

It’s one or two she never knew
Just ran with the wind that blew
Leaving behind the girl crying
On some Street in summer time
The lady who clumsily ran into
After a drink or two
And some one staring out of
A dusty  glass pane
Counting stars in vain

She ran umpteenth miles away
From the clouds covering her town
Away at the world’s end where
The sun was rising up again
After the rain of a million days

 

A walk on clouds

Let’s scroll down and stumble upon 

the strings of cloud spread all around 

generating tunes with each step unsaid 

only the rising eyes  let speak 

 

Let’s walk through the creases of clouds 

lined up above each other 

peeking our big head first 

then struggle with our hand 

and jump all at once 

on clouds waiting for us

 

Step by step let’s  put our toes first 

and fall on our heels at once 

Let’s walk towards the burning ball 

till  the warmth is enough

 

Let’s  sit where the clouds end

watching the sun sink down 

while I rest my head upon your arms

And let the time pass by ..

 

Pages

Will the remnants of my pages

Stay in the air of whirling winds

Brushing over the grave I lay in 

 

Will the yellow pages walk afresh 

In the streets of the world I never knew

Wandering into the playful grooves 

While I ll be sleeping  in my den

 

 

Will the words I never spoke 

Fly out of the pages turning old 

To swim in serenity with the river flow

And reach across banks i didn’t see

After my scent is no more to smell

 

Will the remnants of my pages

Stay in the air of whirling winds

 

Brushing over the grave I lay in no