Literary Thoughts of a Dragon Fly

  If the clock ever struck 5 , If the clock ever struck 5, I promise I would go home, The bus leaves at 6, but I promise I will go home, It’s a weary, long day and looking out of the window is my only solace, The little birds twittering around, squirrels running around, Oh but when the clock strikes one,  I can take an oath on the holy lord, then the clock doesn’t move, Between one to four, the world comes to a standstill, All you can hear slow humming of machines, the soft tapping sounds of keyboard, And a few day dreamers like me staring out of the window, There are many like me, I do feel that, We are a hidden tribe, who only want to escape work when the clock strikes 5, And its not that I dread work, I love work, It pays for my luxuries, But the constant chatting, calling, sounds, brings no peace to my little mind. A little nap should be allowed at work, I wonder why it is frowned upon, It is uncomfortable to sleep at a desk, while your colleagues are looming around, I am ...

Singing a song for jim beam Here is to the more spirit I have in my life and in my almost empty glass, However impossible it seems, drinks are going to leave me and I am going to leave them, I am going to say good bye to my best friends to be with you, The shot glasses say one last time, And the tequila say dance with me, Its all the flavor , says Malibu rum, I will drown you in tranquility says the good ole Gin, Give my tonic, my heart says. You can always a sneak a bottle and still be a saint, One a sip is good for soul, says brandy my old friend. Remember the old days, the curtains pulled down And the glasses brought up, Lovers were just memories, The glasses were full, and you were drowned in tears, Now you have pulled the curtains apart, And you say , you are out of your fears, I see a little scare in your eyes, Will he be always there for you, my dear? Take a glass and drown out the sun, ...

Now a woman is a poem... Now a woman is a poem, and a man a complex web of words, A woman is a different season every day, and a man at times a calm sea and sometimes roaring waves. A woman is a poem, a beautiful, carved, shapely limb of a tree, a swaying leaf in the wind, or a piece of satin scarf drying on the clothes line. A man is a novel, a premise to be understood and followed, A pipe or a cigar or perhaps a hat, His shadows, his wants and his ambitions. A woman is a poem, filled with oh so few words, simile here, metaphor there, mostly an irony and a master in euphemism, A man is a novel, filled with infinite words, infinite possibility, limitless dreams, and grinding failure. You don't make love to a novel, You make love to a poem, You keep it beside you, perhaps a crumbled paper, hidden in a wallet, an anthem for someone or someone's slogan a vow at the wedding or a sombre word at the funeral.. But a novel at times is so much more, a...

How do I write a poem ?  How do I write a poem ?  Do i need to sew the words together ? Or leave them scattered like the stars in the sky ? How do I Write a poem ? Do i have to conjure up new words ? OR do i have to use ancient words and languages ? How do I Write a poem ? Should I write about broken hearts ? Or broken hearts being mended together ? Should I write about the joys of being alone ? Or the sting that sometimes being lonely brings ? How do i write a poem ? Should i write about the meadows in spring ? Or large, wise mountains gathering courage for winter ? Should I write about the first rain, first flower ? Or last of everything, beginning of a desert & a drought ? How Do I Write a poem ? Should I write about belief which gets you going ? Or belief which makes you stop ? Should I write about holding on to ? Should I write about letting go ? Should I write about beginning of love ? Or starting of hate ? Should I write sayin...

A Poem. I don't know what made me write this poem. I was intending it to be something else, but it turned out to be something else.  Here it is :-  I promise to tell you my secret, If you won’t tell mine, We’ll meet over lunch & have a glass of wine, In case you whine, you little swine, I give you my word, I will bottle you up in jar of brine. I committed a murder, not so long ago, In the time of spring, just beneath the flowery bough, We were having a cup of earl grey & cucumber sandwich, The one who always bewitched me was a witch all the time. Oh she loved me, she told me so. But she loved Tom, dick, harry & many more. What blew me apart, when she pulled the axe on my poor heart, When she told me, that most of all she loved our neighbor, the fiery tart. That fiery tart was a young woman, And I couldn’t fathom, why a woman loved a woman. Angered & Smoldered, all burnt up inside, I threw ...

Thousand Moons ago Because, I loved you thousand moons ago, and now the moon is gone & so are you, I have loved someone else, but its not the same as you, I have placed conditions for him to be like you, I have placed a photo of you in front of him, Now we'll both worship the same God, i told him. I'll draw comparison and blood for sacrifice to keep you alive, The moon is back & now blood red in color. I have died thousand times everyday at night, only to be awaken by your memories, They are still warm..your memories, like a blanket on cold, misty , winter mornings, I have loved someone else, but its not the same as you.

A girl she needs, she just needs, knows not what, She dreams her needs are her love, she weaves her dreams, but its actually a mess in her head. Its not love, its just a need, to complete her life, a temporary love, she mistakes her need for love, she wants to hold his hand, not in love, but because in need, You will see her building castles in clouds  pregnant with rain, you will see her closing  eyes and weeping silently, oh she writes poems dedicated to love, but its not love, its need, She is there in her jungles of doubts and despair, where she leaves a trail of broken dreams and expectations, No, it just a need, disorganized feelings, born out of habit, born out of society, May be she knows that, its just a need, her temporary love with fade away with time, she will bleed then in her heart silently, will wipe her tears, move on again, To find a new need. May be she knows this, she is her own soul mate, she will tear herself into ti...