prose,
Elaborately expressed in a few lines,
Granting it the status of a glittering fable,
Entangling the mind in an ocean of words,
With equivalent use of punctuation marks,
An inborn skill in some,
Developed to dizzy heights with the passage of time,
A meager source of income in India,
While capturing mammoth audiences in foreign land,
A persevering route of earning fodder through rhyme,
Presented as a pearl of written composition,
Is what we mean by self composed poetry.
12. SOAPY SPRINGS FOR LUXURIOUS CLEANSING
The crystal maze of sparkling water,
Interwoven with threads of molecular attraction,
Adhering to peripheral blocks of scarlet plastic,
With off shooting molecules,
In angled semicircular configuration,
A boisterous echo of soapy texture,
Thoroughly spongy and elastic in dimension,
Bustling with insipidly feverish activity,
Diffusing into minuscule pearls of froth,
Clashing with robust excitement,
As I pour oblong vessels of water,
Drenching my mass of composite flesh,
Strands of curly hair,
With perennial gift of surplus liquid,
Blended with flamboyant antiseptic minerals,
Jutting from the dilapidated steel taps,
With surplus blotches of bronze,
Drawn from amazing depths of the earth’s belly,
Finally tumbles down in a united assemblage,
A carnival of frothy soapy spray,
A melodious gurgling spring of purity,
The finest form of luxurious cleansing,
Evacuating encrypted pores of blocked emotions; from deep within hidden
recesses of my body.
13. JOURNEY THROUGH THE ATLANTIC
The vast swirl of Atlantic water,
Nefariously cold with tufts of ice,
Obdurate and strong with the passing of time,
A blend of fish and aquatic shrub,
Incorporating monstrous waves with frothy spray,
Chunks of dead timber drifting in bountiful quantity,
Encroached with currents of drifting seaweed,
Prompting the invincible fortress of inhabitation to waver,
Through lurking masses of undulating water,
Diffusing chains of liquid globules on its way,
Compressing galleries of fern and soft rock,
Crunching primitive icicles of molten snow,
Biting sharply into the vast assemblage of black water,
Piercing the aquatic ambience,
With high strung notes of the fog horn,
Clearing its way amidst heavy mists; and evading moon,
The Sun finally steams through the glass pane,
Ending the tyranny of the ruthless night,
I suddenly wake up with a startled look on my face,
Finding my way out through the furry delights of my cotton quilty,
Rush across to the wire meshed stern,
My hair blowing wildly with the gusty wind,
Transfixing me into a mute personality,
In due admiration of the boundless ocean;
As the salty waves strike; break my celestial reverie.
14. THE EXOTIC EFFECT OF AIR
The cool and stupendous effect the air has,
Can never be got by poisonous nerve gas.
The exotic effect of soft blue air,
Cane never be obtained by mechanized gear.
But O! when the air becomes black and swollen,
It yields riches like a dried pollen.
Its lost in its thoughts which never come true,
Due to the incessant quarrel between the two.
The air finally comes down on earth with great force,
To cover the distance of its natural course.
15. ACTS OF COURAGE
He walked adroitly on tight strained cotton rope,
Tied at both ends to the tallest precipice of blood stained rock.
He skydived into dark valleys of nothingness,
Without comfort parachutes buckled to rib cage encompassing his body.
He swam incessantly for long days against chilly currents of the Atlantic,
Had occasional meals of cold sea weed and salt water.
He drove his sports car through winding roads of the mountain,
Applied bare minimum of brake; with mounting pressure on the accelerator
He rode fearlessly on striped panther back,
Slept in the night on a bundle of hay with a family of wild fox.
He consumed long shards of unpolished cut glass,
Cracked a joke a few seconds after relishing the ghastly meal.
He plummeted infinite feet below into savage waters of the river,
Pulled out trapped children from smashed interiors of the dismantled bus.
He trespassed through steaming flames of city fire,
Tried to evacuate people gasping for fresh draughts of breath.
He resolved to climb Mount Everest on foot,
Confronted frozen winds and avalanches of ice on his expedition to the top.
He always decided to attempt the virtually impossible,
To blend white clouds of the sky with earth,
And he knew he would succeed,
As with every step he took,
He was there with himself for his miracle rescue.
16. THE BLUE OCEAN
The vast turbulent waters have a shade of cloud blue,
Possessing strong and high rising waves,
That gives a nice and hearty feeling,
And are unable to touch the highest nail on the ceiling.
The sky laughs at the waves,
Greets them with a lop-sided grin,
Advising them to keep fit and trim.
The advancing waters kiss the shore line,
They want to be near the sand,
To get far and distant from the obstreperous ferry band.
The waters move with the tune of the air,
Creating loud and stringent blares.
The sand seeps gallons of water at the shore,
Acting as a good and natural utility bore,
The colossal sea waters eventually evaporate into a dark cloud,
That gives the sound of loud rumbling thunder,
Pelting down sheets of much awaited torrential rain,
To enrich and develop the oncoming food grain.
17. MY COMPLAINT
My heart speaks in violent fury,
Raging over like wild white fire,
Ruling all emotions,
Holding the pointed time about,
O! I wished with all my energy for a gentle calm voice,
Neutralizing all my sorrow,
Wading past the tumultuous agony that besieges me,
Settling my cumbersome entity on mother earth.
An ardent desire pounding on it for years,
Crushed by the effervescence of fate,
Like a dicey off stand dance,
Glancing mockingly at effort,
Giving a thoroughly dull start,
To withstand truck loads of pain all throughout.
18. PRELIMINARY INVESTIGATION
I silently eavesdrop on my mind,
Wading past a sea of darkness,
Across rash currents of mangled thoughts,
Trying to search for cryptic clues,
Breathing in domains of mystic behaviour,
Breeding in pools of trivial obsessions,
Bleeding at various sensitive junctions,
Weeping every unfolding second,
Proliferating in leaps and bounds; in changing color of the light.
Obsessions they were with iterative hammering,
Struck firmly by 100 pounds o
f fresh iron,
Submerged in hot cream of fading luck,
Striking soft tissues enclosed in precious brain,
Weak and feeble to resist the mighty onslaught,
Disintegrating into crumbled imagination,
Whipping brutally inactivated zones of subconscious,
Causing downpour of torrential agony,
Cascade of non-existent thoughts,
Finally uprooting all the goodness that ever prevailed,
Mind you friends, This was just a preliminary investigation,
As I stealthily eavesdropped on my brain.
19. THE COLD BLOODED ROCK
The chain of black stretched all over,
The pointed surfaces; the leading of suicidal death,
The tedious climb encircled by emotionless faces,
All of which have a maniacal look,
Abraded exteriors of rock possess shining faces,
Spreading waves of savage delight and brutal splendour,
Trapping innocent prey in their vice like grip.
The air mightily pounds on its surface,
Removing small chunks of graphite powder,
Transporting loose pieces of stone down the valley,
Leaking inside the comfort houses of several ant and white rabbit.
Hollow crevices in the rock are filled with crusty liquid,
Growing in stature by the advancing day,
Bubbling in nervous energy imparted by sheltered warmth,
At last gushing out in frenzy,
Forming volatile springs of boiling lava,
Assassinating possible signs of life in several kilometers of vicinity.
20. IMAGINATION
The string of vivid imagination goes deep,
Flooding the path to a loosened character,
When I pluck it; it gives a shrill resounding noise,
Leading to the mystic cavity of an unruly conscience,
Putting me in a dread.
Those particles of audible sun light filter a way,
Through the tiny blackness inside my mind,
Biting and nibbling the inner elastic heart,
Falling freely like pointed black darts,
Aiming sharply at the sensitive organs,
Nothing more than an inconsequential brawl.
The string finally breaks with a painstaking gasp,
I find myself so empty,
With nothing to ponder on,
Except that crimson blazing light,
Dark tunnels of life then emanate a hearty chuckle,
And leave all those who are bald and shivering with non-existent fear.
21. AMBULANCE
Wailing sirens echo through the air,
Red rooftop lights flash violently,
A big plus sign is stuck to all its doors,
Metal stretchers adorn the interiors,
Oxygen masks hang from plastic