Category Archives: POETRY

Soul of my sàvior

Soul of my saviour , rectify my breast
Body of Christ , be thou my saving quest
Blood of my saviour , bath me in thy tide
Wash me with water , flowing from thy side – strength and protection ,
May thy passion be .
O’ blessed Jesu , hear and answer me ,
Deep in thy wounds , lord hide and shelter me
So shall I never , never part from thee – gaurd and defend me from the foo-mallign .
In deaths dark moments , make me only chime , call me and bid me , come to thee on high where I may praise thee, with thy saints for Ay..!



What the need arose
whiskey , rum and whine

Were to be made on-board

By the next port.

“Captain, you have to make some

Risk & wink this last bottle ” – urged the crew.

He raised his chest,

To make his best,

Was about to make a call

To-the person on the other side of the hall.,


Some-thing absurd happened

Some call-came

They way it pat-tered.

“Captain., Pilot has surged to come onboard ” shouted the man on look-out.

“Ahhmmm ok” retarded his Adobe….

Angry crew made their blew

Some went to br-ooom

Some stepped in-to the engine room..,

Pilot hopped on the ladder

Stepped up fast

Making his way through the platter.

Cadet stood upright

Neatly dressed, fully tight

Patiently he captured his sight

Making no blink

Revering his plight.

Engines were made ready

Engineers were made steady

Wosh-wosh sound started to spray

As pistons danced in their tray.

“Captain, what to make ?

While pilot makes his up-way ” asked cheif cook.

“Leave, I’ll call after I learn his pick “- captain making his last sip .


Pilot came , captain engaged

Time was high, yet captain made a creepy sigh …,

” Captain – I am thirsty , my pocket feels a bit busty. Fill it with a bottle of whine , some coke or some rum . Fill it fast so that I can make my run..,worry u not , I am a Scott. Make me angry and I’ll hang u like Tom does with Jerry ” – pilot.

The last reserve was brought out

Everyone recited prayers

As it was to be passed down

” Ought we loved u

Tough thought we could hug u , kiss u , live with u” cried everyone ..,

Not with a voice too loud

Yet a-loud enough to make that wound.

What then …?

A new journey A new way

A new destination A new place

A new bottle A new sensation

A new hope waiting at next station…,


Majestical cook

Astonishing at-look

Cleare n pure soul

Though may u take any poll


Just a 6 letter word yet a complete book

Read and written by a-lot

L’est  yet not and can’t be published


Man-ny have publicised her,  statuetised her

In different formats roots and spur

But when were goddes being defined by men..?

She aprons different social names

At different stages in different streams.

Yet dosent blames neither demands any fame.

Manny-a-times i fight with her ….

But then that’s what cubs of a lioness do.!

As they say …. women are born fighters as they have an extra strand in Thier DNA, men need to become one..!


With the drizzle today

I breathed wide calm

A sweet sensation like as iff

Has ran inside my vertical-am

Rough torn voices

Immicating my-self from my-own-being

Telling some stories some tales

Shadded black mere-ly tough were they

With every single drop that kissed earth 

Brought a token of love from haven

From gods and kings and queens

Of too the ones whom something they meen

Such was the shower today

Brizzles of golden tar 

Graving on our(humans) heart…Cont.,

Àn old dream…Gud ? Bad?.,

It was 0630 when the door turned inside. And 

“Someday we gonna rise up on that wind you know 

Someday we gonna dance with those lions 

Someday we gonna break free from these chains and keep on flyin” 

 was the track playing at the back. Sounds of treadmill and step-ups churned up with the hip hop track. Young crowed was busy preying on bench-press when my eyes got locked over a bright gloomy face. Well tonn-ed was she and her dim blue light eyes. I ignored her ;then for a moment and paced up on-with the mill. She bent swiftly to tighten up her shoe laces and all the Men started some monochromatic exercise where In their eyes were locked over her curve. Well maybe that’s why we men’s are said to be good observant . She pulled up herself on the treadmill next to me making herself comfortable on the platform , but by that time I was about to knock of just when she murmured something. Her politeness buried my blankness . Her red lips were mesmerizingly soft and clean ; neither any scratch mark  nor any dead spots ,just soft and gloomy. She again spoke just to wake me from an early morning dream and In a nice clean voice she asked me for some help. Believe me I went into a shock at once , but turning to my gentleness and bearing my “THE MAN’S ” title I acknowledged her and moved on with it. This was the start of a new friendship . From that day onwards we started training together; may then it be a track-walk or pressing weights on bench-press . By keeping my gentleness cloaked this bond of ours bended up in a smooth way. Within no time track walk turned into long drives and gym got replaced by night-pubs. That was our first night-out, at least for me it was first. I suited up and she was too dressed in a pink gown. The night was cozy and winds were tight . We just pulled in some shots and abruptly she told those three distinctive words which every boy on this planet is dying to hear. Well at first I resisted myself to answer it but when she touched my lips with hers ,ahh-mm a yes pop-ed out.

Finally with ting-tong of my alarm bell I woke from this old sweet dream , flushed my face twice-thrice to wake up all my senses and finally returned back to reality.


Fantasia Painting(5) 2

She flew in like an angel

Bringing with her,

Some muse from heavens

Some clues from revns

Some colours Some shades

Though mearly

Black and red were they.


Bright red lips


On white glowing gloomy face

Noticed I


She passed by with pace.


Pretty white frock she wore

Dipped and smugged

In blood red color Alo’re.


Curvy trunk of hers

Made a burning sensation

In my nerves.


May call it

My imagination


My ambiguity

That I aquarius

Organised her

In my aquarelle..⚓



Weeping, wailing, sniveling, blubbering..

Call it by any name

Yet to me ,

An inevitable sensation

That pushes my  pain  in some motion

sometimes a notion

Revering and relaxing

Drifting and dredging


From those rusting thoughts emotions feeling

Or whatever the name be

Something  for sure tough

That Often

Finds some imaginary place

In my god-dam cellular space

Making me loose my base

Blotting me with a severe headache……


It helped, no it really did

I felt good I felt at peace

Yes , in this process

Though I often lost a  lot of water

Flushing up my big black floating thing (eyes)


Some fresh canteen some fresh flacon

But ever-time this therapy worked.

Its not some stuff that only “girls” dress in

It’s a natural therapy which

We all undergo once in their life

I  you everyone does

Lest occasions may vary.





Foolish panaroid

Of a bright future.

Isee what is only

Deterimental to myself



Yearning to be loved.

Asking to be held.

Apprehensive and clouded in my own


Clouded by my own preception

Of the desolation of this world.


How could i possibly feel any less than what

I have already become ?




And Angry…

All is well

I am loved.

I don’t understand

Why then what when

ANXIETY falls in me…?





High up there


Messing on some hilly toes

Got somewhere

Where wind was tight


Dim was light

Surrounded by snow fed mountains

And cluster of clouds ;

I stood firm just to cherish

The scene-tic beauty

A deep silence was there

The very moment i took a deep breath …

Something got into my nerves

Cold very cold

Penetrated deep inside

And then that chilling cold stuff

Started kissing my body

From head to toe.

The clock went on a sleep mode


I was lost to an unknown world then..




At last

I drained some fuel in me

woke up from a dream


Finally marched back to reality..