Our Dreams

The dreams we dream
Sometimes I do dream
The dreams we dream
Are unfounded,
Simple imaginations
Hopes and desires

We all want to dream,
Fantasize our lovers
Then we hope
And wish
Dreams come true
For me and you

Thou Shall Then

Visit my latest blog,
Where your bard
Dug deep into the
Valleys and alleys
Of
MANHATTAN
And
Far beyond the reach of poets who weep.
Alas it was a great experience but a loss to a young guy
Who became friendly?
And
Shared secrets too,
Then all is history,
He hacked me through and through,
I wish all of us knew
The Internet is dicey,
Trust no one,
The only one you can,
Is yourself?
The you,
In uuuuuuuuuuuuuu

I'm Also Sick

As sick can be
With all Neopoets
As much as sick they be
It’s sick to read
Sick comments
I'm glad you became sick of me
So I 'm not now sick to lament
Think it’s time I wasn't sick
ma'am
Even though you are still are sick of me
I can’t make any more
Sick lame lament

Kissing is an Art

A teenage girl
once wrote a simple poem.

What did I know?
That a brush,
Would send shivers
And
I would know.

Her boyfriend replied.

If a kiss can do so much,
Will you leave it to me?
To find lips
Which!

Such is life of kissers
More kissing then sexing
That’s what is western
Turn off
Or
Turn on,
Tonight the light
Has gone!

Your Lovely Poem

This poem will
Someday end up
In the history books
Of poetic time

So many stalwarts,
The world has 6.5 billion
Going around
Make no sound
Silently ask each one of them,
To poemise a similar poem,
A thought theirs unique…
Then my poet Unknown
Now so much the worlds treat,
You shall have to take shelter,
In the publishers street
And
Remain undecided,
What is which?

Tree Of Life.... Poemised just now

Time
Time is like a winter’s breeze,
It slaps and does tease,
Some smile as it splashes by,
Some scream,
But when so many
Wink at you and me,
Its then we realize,
How time does flee,
Past you and the sea,

Then time’s gone,
Like a passer by,
Where it came from
To where it doth fly,
No one can say,
Neither Omar Khayyam
Nor the Loved of all poets,
That’s me,
A narcissistic prosaic of poetic poverty,
Kingship of rhyme
As one hopes to be

wHEN wE gRIEVE

When my grandma died
Years ago
They celebrated her age...

Times have changed
Those who lived well
Drink to their good life
Passed by them

In heaven they will be blessed
Neither would they know
Nor you.
Take rest
THEN
Normal work continue

I Am the By Product of Your Soul

Only one thing
I have learned in life,
Is never give in,
You are not the best
Nor are you the worst,
You are the incarnation of a God
Some face tsunami once in a way,
I face it every day
Still I remain as stone
A pedestal upon times home
In the vast sands of time

The Lion Man

You choose a lion
And lions want
And have sex
100 times a day
Every two minutes
That’s why most of the time
One finds them resting
As brings in some meat
His woman

The very fact,
Your name appears,
Are half the battles worth?
Winning or losing
Is just a part of life?
Never deter
The others could be worse.

Some day I shall tell you,
How I won
And
Didn’t rehearse,
They all cursed me,
To have become the first