A Folder named "Poems"

A Folder named "Poems"

By Rajul Tiwari

A folder named "poems", appeared and I thought,
what am I going to do and what I sought...
What mumbles inside it and why do I respond to this call,
does it listen to me or it shields me like a wall...

No, I don't throw the burden here, I give away the abundance,
for there is difference between resistance and reluctance...
Time is still here and only benign words thrust,
waiting for someone to look under the crust...

Thinking is good but why does it end up feeling,
and the one who is reading, ends up dealing...
No, it is no humour for it is just a bone,
It is the crowd of words which read 'alone'...

Had it not been women against women,
being a woman wouldn't have been a bad omen.
Had it not been money and power,
We would have been having timely shower...

Had it not been liking for blood chilling barbarism,
we wouldn't have been doing doctorates on terrorism...
Had it not been desperation and depressions,
people wouldn't have been on suicidal excursions...

Like you all, I live in this world full of hatred and dust,
where even the beginnings are objects of lust...
I take refuge here when I am scared,
I feel sorry for those who don't have words who cared...

I will wait to give them a share which they deserve,
for this is the only way I can serve...
My fellow people, we are so much alike,
time to be together, forever in karma and psyche...

So, this is the folder which will take me to you,
this is the religion of humanity where I vow "I do"...
Thank you for now, it pains less,
thank you for not letting me cry alone in a warrior's dress...

It will Always be

It will Always be

By Rajul Tiwari

We met as if playing "mirror-mirror",
so it seemed like soul's repeated error...
You would take your eyes away but not your mind,
I would think of you despite a busy grind...

Still unknown to the fact that love follows,
we hide it behind the dark hallows...
It stayed there like a powerful spring,
and gurgled up, through eyes it would sing...

Nothing was said, nothng was done,
we were still bonded into one...
We didn't make our fate,
but it hunted us down rather late...

I heard the wind chime in duet with the breeze,
when to be with you, meant to be in peace...
The feeling though slit my being apart,
there were wounds, still wanted that heart...

We would care, share and lay spirit bare,
and would get hurt for not standing truth's glare...
We looked beyond, and the love was shrined,
given away to be found in space, like a diamond when mined...

Remembered fondly to self like a lost laughter,
the soul fondles it hiding somewhere in the same chapter...
A love dreamt of by poets, only love with no tears,
that is why it didn't seem true, and holding on had fears...

It was not sung, it was whispered lightly,
slowly, it began and hidden rightly...
The memory will have a loving gaze,
an owning touch, a sudden beat at race...

There will also be the music and trance,
there will be everything but no other chance...
Ardourous and adorable it will always be,
no lifetime will suffice so I let you go and see...

I think and turn into a rose,
it will not wither for the season it chose...
When it is not when supposed to be,
then whenever it is, it always was...
always to be....

A Prophetic Dream

A Prophetic Dream

By Rajul Tiwari

Unusual was this night,

the indigo sky had a lonely bird in flight...

I ran to not to let it go,

my puffy feet hit the rough high and low...

The air was thick and difficult to cut,

struggling to run through, I slipped in mud...

lo behold, I was still wearing the beaming white,

a feather lands, gyrating fresh and light...

I held it in my fist, looked at sky again,

now it was dark with cloud, began to rain...

Through a smoother wind I run like I sway,

noticed mud and blood, through my feet slide away...

The feather began to grow in my arms,

it became the bird of the sky, with magical charms...

With warm excitement, I hear a flute sing,

my heart danced, and I rode the bird following thing...

I reached a gleam in the dark, the warmth inside increased,

I couldn't hold on, my eyes closed and creased...

The heart filled with love, it washed my eyes too

I heard a voice say, "Oh she is moving!! Hey, good morning to you!"

The hospital bed, no bird... I carry the feel, but can't see,

after a week, I slept listening to divine lullaby...

Tired and retarded, to coma I succumbed,

the sister told me, opened my hair and combed...

I lifted my hand and took comb in mine,

surprised, she smiled at my golden tresses that shine...

the sun winked at me through the picture window,

And I thanked Him for the wonderful show...

Pebbles

Pebbles

By Rajul Tiwari

Thrown to create ripples not bubbles,

can hurt or disturb, there is no life in pebbles...

Pick yours carefully, this can end peace,

once hurt, won't be worth the siege...

Better as bridges and dams,

even home to algae and clams...

Beautiful they are, when decorated,

still their use is underrated...

Look at the indents it makes,

the emptiness on removal, shows what it takes...

Little words can be chants,

they can be love, they can be rants...

They build us like cells,

to the thirsty, they can be wells...

Read, tell or hear,

but let it not cut and tear...

Use as you like, in any shade,

still beware of its blade...