Paradox of Mangement

"Paradox of Management"

Enunciated, 

The partaker,

When crushed,

Mashed, 

Mortified, 

Fazed;

The self-respect

And ego

Debased.

Brings off

The best
And the soul

Chalks up

Prodigious feat.

I assert, the stereotypes to

Hold their horses, 

Not aye does it prompt

The slob to rack up. 

Whilst, she (he) may be

Hyper-sensitive, 

Tenuous, 

Egoistic, 

Keen

Or ardent.

To bail down, 

The Paradox of Management, 

Doesn't lush

All the grounds, 

It may yank,

A delicate bloom.

A Visit to My Grave

"A Visit to My Grave"

On my grave,

you stand today.

My body is dead,

the cold corps, 

lie mute, 

my eyes closed.

The words I uttered, 

now are echoes, 

my actions, 

solely imaginations.

Now, you repent

for killing the emblem.

Though, the world 

Remembers my words,

my feats are still pursued. 

Here, you shed tears,

that you dispatched a person, 

The totem, my dear, is still alive

Moon's Hues

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"Moon's Hue" 

At night,
dismal
black
dire view.


You,
O Moon!
Bring
cordial
collegial
cockcrow hue.

The Broken Memories

"The Broken memories"

I once perambulated these pavements,
With lusts to be with you someday.
Those clouds and the falling rain,
would accord me with all the flairs.




For this day,
The cloudburst once again.
Anew is the downpour.
Though, this time
It falls with a mourn,
No tip-tap but with trish-trash
It hits the ground.
To show the incense,
Of it was wrong about the flairs.




The same passage ways I traverse,
The gale, all the same,
As it twins,
Up to my ears.




And this season it traces
A tale of the broken memories.
Of what they flared about,
Are no more.
I walk alone,
the broken memories along.

A Dream

                                                  

"A Dream"

The rhythm of my rhymes,
the melody of my life,
the rainbow of my sky,
the Kajal of my eyes.



Is sleeping deep at night,
dreaming his fantasies,
in the button eyes.
With the pressed nose
and perfect lips,
he's snoring high
a song that gives me love vibes.



I turned his hair
with my fingers slight.
I kissed his cheek
that he nestled in
my lap so tight.



The puffing of my lips
with the touch of
his dark skin type,
along with our hearts
That touched each other
in the mean while.



Beaten in a trice,
they exchanged
a few lines.
I reckon the context
was somewhat like,
"Come close to me,
you are the other side
don't go far,
you're the spirit
of this deadly life."
The last words
my ears could recognize

"I love you, O my young wife!"



Then somebody jolted
the old lady sleeping
in a dress of a bride,
dreaming of her groom
that she lost,
when she was twenty five.