Monday, January 18, 2010

Some puzzlings things

So rough in look
but treasuring juice
that can chill anybody's
parching neck.

A man has
such a nice countenance:
cozy and soothing skin
furnished in ointment.

But I wonder
what is there inside?
As rough as dilapidated wall
of dismantled house.

Can't a man be a pineapple?

Who Says ?

Who says
I or he write poems ?
All this is bogus.
Ain't it ?

We dont write poems.
But they come along with us
like our shadows
and intermingle as sunny days.

It is not we
to give them shapes.
Rather they dwell upon us
in many forms
of our earnings
dreams and agonies.

Darkness is bliss.
It gives us shelter.
We can live in the corner of the room
Losing to ourselves
Undaunted by the vagaries
of the sunny days,
We lie sprawling our hands and feet.

As morning comes
we hide our faces
in the shadows
lest it would intimidate us.

As the day starts to wear off
we again wait darkness:
Our Invisible Friend
to confide
all our secrets
and sigh in relief.

A Pythagorian Triangle

A pythgorian triangle
has perpendicular and base
explicit and measurable.

Posing its identities
it exists in height and length
not surmounting and fleeting
beyond any arcane knoledge.

Had our miseries been
a Pythagorian triangle,
how nice it woul have been
to measure their sizes!

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