Sweet Mints

As the sun goes up
We would start towards the school
Climb the bus
And look for our friends

Around the bend
With a cane basket
An old lady chewing betel
Sold the sweet mints
As red as the betel
Ground under her teeth

We buy the candy
And attend our school
We come back for more
But she would be gone
Leaving us wandering
In search of red trails.

Years rolled on
The morning sky is now
Clad in yellow and red
Cane basket and sweet mints.

Meter

Only the arial script
On his notepad marks him .
Typing, typecasting
He dwells in the delirium.

In the bright background
Of a virtual canvas
Dark stories are told
The hills and the morn are typed
Smiles are worded
And tears are metered

Oblivious and lost
In the clatter of the keys
He types away the world around.

Later, a tree from the rainforest
Would carry his message
Well typecasted
In laser print.

Remnants

The wind blows fast
And her silhoutte forms
Out of the raging sand.

My heart burns
With a mounting desire
To whirl away with her
And reach the lands
Distant in that blur.

Her tears fill the sea
And as I walk by
The water touches my feet
Taking away
To those distant lands
The remnant bits of me.

Re-arranged

Feelings faded
Like shelved old newspapers
Rearranging them
Images flash
In the morbid alphabet.

Rear View

Hiding behind the slopes
The glow of ember slowly appears
With the music of dawn.

The first boat is set sail
With the water rippling
In ecstasy
At the touch of the golden beams.

The fog raises the curtains
For an early morning show
With the folk lore
As a background score.

Snaking through the road
Around the hills
I treasure the images
In the rear view mirror
And thank that they are closer
Than they appeared.

Mirrored

Images vaulted inside
Are crayoned on the opaque windows
A few are lost
A few get mirrored.

The mirrors are true
But the images aren't
Stand before them
And they show
Someone else for you.

The sunlight
Is from, just another neon lamp
The silent scenic hills
Are murals on the drab walls.

The worms are cultured
Just for you
For your freedom
From this silver frame.

Hall of fame

Hall of fame
A thundrous applause;
Resounding in a corner
Of a quaint recluse.

Hall of fame
Years ago
A virgin note;
A fresh song.

Buds take shade
Blossom unknown
In to the time they fade.

Killed the notes
Revelled in mediocrity
Absolved your sins
Engraved your wins

On this cold evening
as the carriage transports you
To a new recluse
An asylum, A hide out.

The moving notes are now gone
As zephyrs carried freshness away
To the heavens.
Where,there are
Less odds than evens.