REBIRTH OF THE PHOENIX

( This is a palindrome poem. Please read it from top and then from bottom.)

⁯Again phoenix rises...
Golden feathers
And skin crimson...
The rebirth of ashes and embers
From
Divine death undertaken...
Had he died really?
Enchantments vanquished...
And
Prevails tranquility...
Pyre after rebirth
YET
Rebirth after pyre...
Tranquility prevails
And
Vanquished enchantments really died...
He had undertaken death divine...
From embers and ashes of rebirth
The crimson skin
And feathers golden...
Rises phoenix again...⁮

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Trystic

Ages of sombre slumber Preserves thy soul not From the sabre o' desire "Far from the folk they meet in the dusk of a shrewd spring glorying in tales of lust trystic ballads they sing " Divine inert eternity rewards thou not warmth of profane audacity " Their willowy hands are wrapped A tale of nails and lips Those softest unkempt grass Serve for the trystic sleeps " O' poet, pretend not and sing Of this tryst of springs Of those small profane things " ... Narrow eyes of heavens then flash Fear grips like a venomous sting promising return they part still trystic ballads they sing... " When those springs are gone On our tryst's doom A sombre monsoon's dusk, some profane buds then bloom... NOTES: In this poem first, third and fifth verses are related to each other and second, forth and sixth ones are related to each other. The last verse is a standalone one. First group of verses convey my thoughts on the imagery that is described through...

Another incomplete Painting

The Pantomimist

He never said a word where None would suffice. And really Words were luxuries, wrongfully Labeled as necessities Freedom who, freedom where Freedom when, he couldn't go Home, which home was it really !! He didn't say, he smiled sad This is your place, this is where You belong, they always said He never used words, he never Raised his voice, he only smiled sad Borders and limits and words Languages, cultures, Nations Religions, loyalties and societies Freedom from whom ? Freedom when ? The home was long lost among Those borders drawn and the earth Divided, for whom ?? His earth, his love His birthright. He never said a word. Kisses were perversely preferable than wars He made love to the earth in a very profane way Across the borders of the living and the dead Though he got murdered, did the pantomimist die !!!

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