Misled
by another?
No, more
by oneself

The king, the prince
the billionaire, the aristocrat
like the pauper and the lowly
each will end in the grave

The world
they discovered
but their true self
they forgot

Fallen
bruised
hurting
but not broken

strength
recovered
unyielding
the odd, conquered

Never ask anyone
why the person is silent
it's over-stepping the line-
unwarranted and unpleasant

Give me
a song
or a poem-
I'll not feel alone

Poor, but dignified
wealthy, but dehumanised
which then is
to be prized?

Each has their foible
  it's human nature
  but let such be
  as long as it doesn't hurt other people

I came in peace
not everyone was pleased
a few doubted my motive
and walked away in unease

A moment's enlightenment
brings insight more than a lifetime can

Love's first lesson:
listen

Love isn't enough:
it must grow
lest it were
to lose its touch

Every life is
a silent romance
written within the heart
with poignancy in every sentence

The now
and what went before
which of the two
do we prefer?

Tears, they tell
only a fraction
of the heart's pain-
even words
are so futile
they fail:
hardly do
they say well

hence:
tears-
they stay alone:
broken
forlorn
within themselves
with their hidden
and unspeakable tale

The hand
that holds the pen
will change
every heart
more than
anything can

I'm sure ,when I grow up, I will discover the true meaning of love-
what I feel now is but a flicker, but by then, it will be a flame

I can help you
so much only
the rest is entirely
up to thee-

I've my problems too
in my life-journey
I had to struggle so frequently
to be free and happy

I wish you well--sincerely
wherever you might be
we're also cast into life's uncertainty
we've each to reckon with destiny

Poetry
so frequently
is like prayer
to me

Poetry
has a lot to say
about morality:
after all
it's about life
and humanity

if it's just
about rhyme
and rhythm
its words
would be empty

poetry
might not change
the world
but its presence
should bear testimony
to our human dignity

The night is friendly
    if you've lived the day kindly

The day has tiny hidden delights
but you have to open your heart and eyes

'Luxury'-
an ugly word
the wantonness
of the princely
and the aristocrat-

I was born poor
few things I could afford
if ever given luxury
I'll accept not

the little I have
is more than adequate
nothing else by me
need be sought

I will stay
a longer while
if you continue
to smile

Enjoy-
not
end joy!

No one can always
be consistent
we are each
dictated by circumstance

That which is my limit
is the start of someone else's merit

He drew his sword
I ran away all at once:
I chose to be a coward
than to be dead-

upon another
he thus drew
that person had a gun
and shot him deadly through!

So drunk
with the wines
of the world
all worries
set aside-

all holds unbarred
freedom reigns:
strangely beats
the heart
(as never before)-
home is forgotten
a new life
seems to start

and why not?
Each life
is a choice
lived
in its own way
though outsiders
might judge
such as waste
or spoils
as self-destruction
but
who out there
does dare
  judge?

In vino veritas
the self
must itself trust
before it ends
in dust-

fill the cup
to the brim-
more yet
this surely
isn't the last!

You don't need
to apologise to life
or people
if you had not
gone out
to deliberately
hurt any

if
in failing yourself
all that is necessary
would be not
to repeat such
in future

we are all fallible
we live far from the ideal:
in accepting ourselves
we move on
hoping to be
better individuals

It's always
more of the case
that I can't-
gladly I accept
and allow
others
to sit in front

the world teems
in endless talent
the moth can never
reach for the star
I know from what
such people have done

in a quiet little corner
I watch and listen
hoping to learn
knowing my lessons
have just begun

my case
I rest
just being myself
is enough gladness
and daily fun

* from Shelley

Only being empty
can one be free:
all else is burden
and unhappiness -laden

Don't give me love
if I don't deserve
if you do
for life such
I'll preserve:
untainted
and time
will bear witness

love-- only a word
but pure and sacred
as a prayer said
in a temple
or a church

how brief
life is
a frail leave
on a stem
to be shaken
by the winds
and fallen
easily to the sod

to you
I must come
ere it's too late

as I've been loved-
the world entire
now belongs to me:
unto you mine
I'll with my life
faithfully reciprocate

The quality of happiness of an ordinary person, even an uneducated or lowly one, can be much richer than that of a wealthy or an intellectual person's as it's uniquely its own and can't be compared with that of another.  

Call this a gift or grace but of such I've no doubt at all as I've known such people.

We should never say someone is happier than we are-
what happiness we have, even a little, is itself adequate blessing.

No one knows
my name
the winds blow
past me--all the same

all I want
is to be alone
with nothing to claim
only myself to own

I can't be
more than others
but to myself
will be no less

Life has to be lived
with some tension
lest it begins to sag
and reduces a person

for to rise above
the mundane
one can't afford
to be complacent

look at genius
and people with passion
for the highest they pitch
in every season

observe how
they embrace every moment
as though it's an epiphany
lest its. beauty be stolen

If your house
is in order
you're already
a conqueror

Humour
is different
from laughter-
it's subtler !

Teaching oneself
is much harder
than teaching others:
there will be excuses
for not being diligent

It's hard to be oneself
the world is too strong
in its persuasion
it will not leave anyone
to be their own

millions of thought-seeds
it has everywhere sown
so many would have
into unwary minds fallen

myself I must save
lest I were to drown
in this polluted zone

by carving my direction
as my boat sails into the unknown
despite the thickest mist ahead
I'll come eventually to my own

Is it life or you
that's the burden?
Between the two
what's the conversation?

Life says in a subdued tone :
I leave everyone to their own
they each have their will- alone
over me why should they groan?

There's no true freedom
as long as there's still the acquiring :
it's realised only when one
has given  himself to the relinquishing

I choose ignorance
over pretence

There are only
  three types of people:

  those who love life
  those who hate life
  and those who are indifferent

I've been too used
to waiting
it has defined
my life
yet it still remains
in my thinking-
it is a virtue
most worthwhile

for immediate
or quick satisfaction
is not my pick-
it only does belong
to the spoilt child

there's the sweet
looking forward
to a brighter dawn
with the promise
grace will adorn:

I'll hold on
to the waiting
even if
I've to walk
the longest mile

In my sorrow
I long for the days
of my childhood
where peace and grace
crowned my every moment
alas!  To such I can't return!

Adulthood is bane
and almost a prison
with its angst and grind
which can't be defined
even by those
with the sharpest mind-
reason is blind
where's ever the gain?

In my tears
lonely and silent
for those joyful days
I desolately yearn
knowing
they will never return

Everyone wants
to be heard
but their own voices
they drown
and forget-

to themselves
strangers
they have become-
in a barren desert
they are lost
and tossed
totally desolate

with their life-story
unread and unrecorded

People can't tell
what's more or less
nor what's worst
or best

so they compare
with others
and after a lifetime
never know any rest

You can't sing?
Never mind
just hum to yourself
some joy you'll find