Its my voice. Its my feelings. I dont care for any rules,any hypocrisy,any hidden criterion for existence.I live because I choose to live.I am who I am and dont want to be any other.I create my own terms and norms. i I am what I believe myself to be. Simple life and flowing laughter is my speciality. I have a plain heart and simplicity is my definition. Poetry is not my life. My life is poetry.
Friday, December 17, 2010
A frightened little heart, an anxious despair,
a little fairy crouches in the corner
as darkness threatens the garden.
Fear, scathing fear
scattering of precious images and
enshrouding threats in the caves of
magma and lava kissed flames.
But desires and dreams are stronger than anything.
Powers percolate and the volcano erupts,
throwing up molten magma and unimaginably hot
flames of intense fantasy and deep love.
Two hands pick up the soft little fairy
and press her close on warm lips,
kiss her frightened wings and a reddened face.
Alladin's magic carpet carries them away into the sunlight.
The apple garden waits,
wild with blossoms and drops of the flame-red fruition.
The paths are covered with petals and leaves,
and small golden apples that entice
little moments of hidden joy and inflamed expressions.
Come, take a bite into the maroon flame of love-stories
and melt away into the honey sweet reality of hearts.
A moment, a fragrance, unknown joys and the gold of magic dreams,
anointed with the royal flames of fruition and blossoms.