Sunday, October 31, 2010

my inebriation

I scared to break
my life in street
which already broken
In my mind.
I smelled poets' blood
And mine too.
To check if it smells inebriation.
What I call my suppressed childhood?
Childhood or prison?
How can you punish
The killer of my age?
My child age!!
I break my poems
On my inebriated mind

Saturday, October 30, 2010

my dear widow

you came to go
I laughed to cry
waiting is always vain job
climbing mountain
to view the heaven
But nothing happened
But nothing happened
Bleeding again my heart
over happiness of the past
dried tongue moving
towards the love
oh! dear widow
your chattered stories
again I collected
to see pain and happiness
who the owner of promises?
where offer our believes?
words hiding from my sight
they scared of me
oh! am happy!!
she is not widow,
she is not virgin,
But my sigh of love.