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A day of imaginations… that’s it.  Read.


  The place where poems are born.. haha.. I usually sit in this couch with my computer on top of the so called “PoetryBox” you can see the wooden box there are some drafts still remaining in the box. The major one the first drafts of the last two chapters of “Tess Of The D’Urbervilles”. It is sitting there for more than a year now. I will finish it someday. You can also see the webcam… I don’t use it much these days except when my mother or sister ask to see me.



The monster morning waving wands of warmth came,

And into my ears through a mellow wind said,

“Wake up to the day, wake up into light,

Though the brightness of the dreams you see,

Even the sun with the chariots of fire can’t match,

Still, the summer day, bright and warm, waiting,

For the footsteps of souls like yours,

The evening Oh’ she is in love with you,

And the night, like an ever accepting mother,

Will always be there, for you to confide.

Wake up now, wake up now, wake up now.”.


Story-less into oblivion morning faded,

The work day through my veins gnawed,

The essence of every creative senses,

And into the lovely evening I raced,

And with a feeling of love for some face unknown,

The evening scribbling verses I spent.


Oh’ days are days they come and go,

But mind may not know,

How through dark I may move,

But every thought back to me will come,

When pen dip deep into the heart and then write,

The love in my heart for a heart I feel.


Oh’ reality only bitches before me brought,

Imaginations she is a witch of wonderful crafts

“Sing to me a lullaby O night sing to me,” I said

Though no lullaby of the night I heard,

Deep in my heart the touch of a kiss I felt,

From a beauty, only in the crafts of imaginations seen.



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