Good Samaritan

Every Morning

As I walk, through the mechanical woods

there appears

through the doors, of the thick fog

a cart

moving slowly, in the turbulent world

carefully negotiating

each step, on the road, full of metallic traffic

as the

horns honk , disappointed, pestered by a

slow moving cart

decelerating their pace, vitiating the advantage, of

rising up early

to move up, climb, the ladder of success

before someone else

rises and grabs the opportunity

I look back

waving a smile to the owner and the horse

he smiles back

acknowledging, ‘the second’, devoted to humanity

as he stops midway

Holding the traffic, for a beloved friend of his

to let him cross

the deadly path, full of unguided missiles

ready to run over

another innocent soul, for no fault of anyone

From the other side

I wave him goodbye, wondering, if he appears

blessing my soul

at every crossroad of life

–Rohit

Song of The Subconscious

Apprehensions alive, am reluctant to start,

Tired to move, and shackled in the past,

Demotivated to travel, thoughts are smothered,

Chary to finish, afraid to last.

I cannot choose, I am coersed,

Conjure motivation, destiny adjures,

not everywhere does the opportunity strike,

embrace the thorns, fruition assured.

Those who promised are red with rage,

for you take a journey to a lovely place,

those who reached are acting too blase,

the woods are lovely, perhaps they are engaged.

Hopes are bound, set them free,

let the fear fly in the world with glee

put on the spurs, be ready to run

abate apprehensions, go kiss the spree.

–Rohit

Confusion

Insanity smothers the cherished serenity,

standing aside, the ripples fuse.

caught aghast in inevitable conspiracy,

powerless, befuddled, no way to choose.

Thirsty desires foster the urge,

Aiming for the moon, the figment soars.

ready for another flight, no fuel to burn,

moon is beautiful, bordering world allures.

Dissolved, diffused in decaying dreams,

Lying in the corner my fragrance snores.

Creating the niche in the spotless world,

Dejected in dust, deluded it dose.

‘Stop chasing the rainbows’ , disputed aphorism,

‘Sky is the limit’, added adage,

If sky can foster the tranquil rainbows,

a no-go to grip is whose fair-stage?

The beginning

I hope this is just the beginning,

of beauty that’s not to end.

The rose, her beauty and her fragrance,

In the gardens of perseverance.

Perceiving presence of pertinent passion,

deceiving thorns with benevolence.

I hope this is just the beginning,

of life that’s starting to smile.

Conviviality of the budding relation,

In the meetings of hesitation.

consoling conundrum of connubial coalesce,

baffled mind in state of confusion.

I hope this is just the beginning,

of infusion of two solitary souls.

In tandem they beat, the hearts light,

the souls unite for blissful flight.

I looked in her eyes, the rose is white,

metamorphosis to yellow, red, we unite.

I hope this is just the beginning,

Of the night of eternal bliss.

The spirit united its time for the lust,

Elixir of life, I find in her trust.

Together we diffuse in the dappled vividness,

inebriated, cuddled in the cozy crust.

I know this is just the beginning,

of beauty that’s not to end.

–Rohit

Mosquito

A sound buzzed around my ear,

I turned around,  it was a mosquito.

It swayed in the air like a delighted millionaire,

hallucinated? or a life free of fear?

Jealous of vexatious flight, I frowned at it,

reassuring myself, its not envy but the disease.

The twirl in the form of cursive record ,

passing a message?  acting blithe, I ignored.

It took off, sat on the roof,

dived to prick, landing on my foot.

My territory? I smacked, missed by a mile,

hurting more than a foot, defeated I smile.

The flight culminated, it sat on the wall,

out of whim, I snapped it hard.

The force of revenge, fostered the brawn,

A thumping sound, the cadaver fall.

On the wall, there lies a red blot,

A symbol of chagrin,left to clot,

reminds me of the bruised conceit ,

I wonder, who designed this didactic plot?

–Rohit