Mud, Wood

Also two of the original trio: Porcelain, Mud, Wood


I brought a mud-tanned
Must hang piece of craft
Must mend, more at hand
A little bit broken at shaft
Mud flakes chipping apart
I have a mud stand to mend
All maps made out of mud
Mud brought and mud spent
Mud money for madmen
Mud furour by mud brigade
To dissolve again in mud
Is the dream of the wood


Two logs standing apart
A log in front, a log in back
Made out of a bigger log
The trees are taken aback
To cut with all strength
An axe severs own hand
Yet the men must stand
Bring forth two more logs
Two logs standing close





Modesty, honesty and all the rest
Little by little it took all the best
Reasons, beliefs mixed with threats
Little by little, it made no sense
Golden bricks* fallen in the crest

Money, hatred, some evils of pride
Swiftly took them over in a stride
Of greed, this mess had a bride
Leaving them all fretted
Cutting the corners for a deathly ride

Their minds knew no bounds
Wandered into the profound
Their hearts had unusual pounds
Lain, almost seemed right
So close came the hounds*

Fights for bread, shelters and hides
Taking much pride in being quite
What made o’ poor sleepless nights
Troubled from head to the ground
Who was there to decide

Withering attributes, fake pleasance
Commuting sorrows via séance
Leaving abode, pleading for a chance
Had they lived right*
This would’ve been a dance


*Golden bricks = a people (left to the imagination)
*hounds = something bad (left to the imagination and further extrapolation)
*left to the imagination


# Most of my poetry happens when I am writing letters.

My love,

Burn my demons
Tend my soul
Love my child
Tender it’s coal

Brighten my darkness
Bring me hope
Improve me my love
Make me dope. Make me dope. Make me dope.

Tranquillity of your tacit powers
would balance out my truculent mental turmoil.
The depth of irises of your eyes, so dark,
that they would encompass all my gloom
and thus I would agape to the azure of sky
and be able to sense the truth
of the beauty of its colour once again.

As I enunciated the sentences of my idyll,
You would flash up
and speak of my mores laconically
whilst I would regress to my own parody.
Your smile would melt the most curmudgeonly hearts,
like a placebo for the most precarious of persons
who would succumb to depression.

Those palms of yours, their touch is emollient,
it would mess up my unintentional pedantry.
As those slender beautiful fingers of yours
would slip down all the way to my wrist,
and thus I would skip another
of my precious heartbeats but I don’t care — for you
are worth skipping hundreds of them.

As I would parse you whilst displaying my idiosyncrasies
only adored by a few, I’d be pumped up with plethora
of recondite feeling of what we call love
But what love can be the love that could be written down
So I’d rather not write it for it is meant to be felt
And so my love I urge you to feel it and know how much I feel the same
If you’d be breaking apart,
which would be least entertained by my dogma.
I would alleviate the somber
to preserve your subliminal child

From The M of Me,
To the E of thee
To you my love, to Love, Peace and some other nonsensical pursuits.

# Don’t ask me of the reply. 😀
And the photo is just there cause I loved it, it is of a spotted reindeer from Ranthambore National Park.


This is my twentieth poem from Emotions and the Fifth and last letter to Penelope (though I wish there will be more).

Letters to Penelope are specific letters and obviously they are directed to Penelope (pseudonym). She is a secret well kept.

Each line is enclosed within double slashes and what follows next is its explanation. Turned out that my wonderful readers were having trouble viewing the hovering text in mobile. The rhyme scheme is aa bb cc…

 // To your smile and the pain behind it for the better //

Do you think that I can’t see the truth behind that smile of yours

// To your bravery and forwardness all together //

The courage you harbour and straight forward behaviour

// To the touch of those svelte fingers of yours //

The sense of touch by your thin beautiful fingers

// Breathtaking smile and eyes that can purge //

Your dumbfounding smile and the eyes that seem to have a cleansing effect (the dirt we see in every day life)

// Those saccades shifting to otherwise desultory //

Rapidly moving eyes so as not to see the obvious and focus on the useless

// Sussuring to the inner thespian having throes in sanity //

Whispering to your inner actor (which drives every emotion) and that too in all consciousness

// I know better than anyone — ulterior of your overt //

I know what is beneath of what seems above i.e. the reality

// Skin of your Arguments and thews of your Soul’s sort //

What you speak (Argument personified) and the cons of your soul (Soul personified)

// Yet — you precious woman in this theater dire //

Yet you precious woman caught in this horrible theater of drama driven events. A person who calls for drama or when not drama calls for whom.

// Having the embers of your heart brighter than fire //

Your joyfulness (embers) of the heart over powering your stress (fire)

// Threads of innocence threadbare in the cloud of smoke //

Yet safe habits gone unsafe smoking the cigarettes

// Cigarette butts, alcohol and the dramas dipped in dope //

Smoking cigarettes, alcohol and it’s aftereffects in the name of false fun

// Destroying yourself in the name of enjoying yourself //


// Next thing on the list is a medicine decorated shelf //

Caring not for your health and the day would soon come to go in and out of hospitals

// But that is a naive thing to consider now — is it not? //

But that’s fine right? It’s like — who is this being to me and what right does he have to tell what I have to do or not

// Smell of stinking vomit and sanity shaking with taste of pot //

Vomiting (aftereffect of excessive alcohol consumption) and the biased opinions all a result of smoking pot (marijuana)

// Only God can help but He helps them who can //

Even god helps those who help themselves. No matter how much in good faith you tell others, they do whatever they want to

// And you cannot until you know how and when //

One day it will all be clarified and the happenings would cure you

// Urge is mine to you to end this conflict – subdue //

This conflict you face — end it by conquering it (grow stronger)

// Turn the vapid to sapid and thus grow up too //

Turn what you think is boring into something interesting and thus grow up to betterment

// I am closer than you think I am to a few, and you //

I am far, is a delusion harboured by you, I am actually closer then you think I am and to the people who are closer to you

// This is a closure it ends here — thank you! //

But this is not a proof of being close, it is just a closure in hope for a better future, from the bottom of my heart this thank I pass.

Judge others only when you judge yourself with equal intensity.