White Striped Pyjamas

Sticky with sweat
all around this life.

White striped pyjamas
my only solace.

They are loose
comfortable and easy
to wear.

Can tighten them
around the waist,
and slip into them
in a haste.

It has a drawstring,
feels like a tight rope of hope
yet slippery
and may choke.

It keeps life simple.
Devoid of creases
if well kept
and it may itch
when not washed.

I keep them safe
down my wardrobe,
when in need
I look at them
and heed.

I hate to borrow
or lend my pair of pyjamas.

Bed time, lifetime
Be it anytime
you need a pair of these
to remind you of ease.

Copyright © 01 Apr 2011, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

An ode to her

In the echoes
of her silvery chiseled anklets
I heard the sweet silence
speak a thousand words.

In the deep red glow
of her little velvety cupped lips
I knelt down to take a dip
in its sea of undying shyness.

In the arresting stings
of her flaming golden eyes
I saw the heavens rise
in frenzy flares to touch her feet.

In the shivering chills
of her mellowing creamy skin
I sensed the jarring heaviness
take me over unto a bliss.

Copyright © 06 Nov 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Shreds

The barren winds
blow across
my healed scars,
tying a knot
of unbearable sighs.

The fleeting questions
that I hide
in my bare bosom
lynches me
in veins of pain.

Do You hear me, O' Lord?

The frail life
that defeats the barriers
through silent struggles
have lost the strength
and the words have dried
in your prayers.

I'm a past of You
with a beacon
of ensnared prophecies.

Do You heed them, O' Lord?

The wheels of time
sewed up the ailing moans,
but the soul immersed
in piousness
died at the mercy
of penance.

I ask,
Why doth You
turn a blind eye
when I need thy
vision to see the Sun.

I'm a gossamer
glossed in your schemes,
Now torn up into
sheer shreds, sheer shreds...

Copyright © 18 Aug 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Matchstick

I
talk of a Matchstick
that lent fire
to my candle.

It had a
fierce head
of gunpowder
with a slender tail
of ageing wood.

It pondered
all while
and wished
for a name.

It dreamt
all long
and desired
to taste fame.

And,
one fine day

I
came along
and set It
on flames
to light
my candle.

Wax dripped
as the candle blazed.
And, the Matchstick,
through It's Last Rites,
still burnt all in glow
for It's pride.

I
held It's ash
in bare hands
and smelled
It's sacrifice.

It had
brought light
to my world
and had
given life
to my candle.

It had held
It's head high
to burn in spurt
for a name,
and to douse out
with a sparkle
to taste the fame.

Copyright © 11 Oct 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Colors; A veil

I of my
color, when
pared down
Would be
A blank negative,
Like a mirage
That flared
An Oasis
of barren sands.

Copyright © 18 July 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Pegs And Mugs

Gabbled I,
In a grin with the mug.
Serve me a peg, nomore
As I swore not anymore...

Waiter at the Inn,
Rolled in a keg of Gin.
Gabbled I again,
Ye, You hairy pug,
Where's my mug?

Dressed in the red tee,
The white turky He
Swore and smirked in glee.
Sir, "Would you like it in shots?"
And I swinged my head, hearing it lots...

Come again,I said in rush.
In a habitual tone of a lush.
I swore again,
Serve me a peg, nomore
As my tongues sore
And I smelled more...

Drops made their way
Into my mug in spree.
And I gulped it,yee...

I was high and sloshed,
Eyes brimmed and dimmed.
I held the mug in hand.
And Surveyed a quick glance to find
A gorgeous lady in pink
With her eyes fixed on my drink.

I offered my drink
And Obliged she in wink
To dance and tink.
Humming and strumming
We did a Salsa and a Tango,
Oops! Like the numbered balls in Bingo,
There I Tripped and rolled.
And crashed at the bosom
Of the woman next to the pole.

Dead meat was I
With black and blue eyes.
Tie hanging by the neck.
Hairs dangling to the drums at deck.
Ears jarring to the whips of metal.
Garbs tattered and gibed in brittle.
Hands and legs feeling the lash of the kettle,
I groped for my table to settle.

Gabbled again I,
In a fret with the mug.
Serve me a peg, nomore
As I swore not anymore...

Copyright © 17 April 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

If I were...

If I were to be a Teacher
I could skip homework
And play with the cane.

If I were to be a Doctor
I could scribble
And accept fat paychecks.

If I were to be a Banker
I didn't have to learn science
To make money.

If I were to be a Lawyer
I could always lie
And get away.

If I were to be an Architect
I would have drawn
My luxuries with
Pencil,paper and scale.

If I were to be a Bartender
I needn't pay for
The silly drink.

If I were to be an Archeologist
I would have been rich
Digging up my past.

If I were to be an Engineer
I would have turned
Math into material
And material into Money.

But I'm a Poet.
I write,write and write,
Until I feel
The pulse of thoughts.

God am I displaced?

Copyright © 14 July 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

I heard the God laugh

Now
that
you have
got rid of
some worries,
Why don't you
add a few more
to feel worried again?

No,
I'm afraid
if I would find
Some worthwhile worries.

Aint you worry
on that son,
you 'll find them
whenever you want to.

If that's
what you say God,
I can wear a smile
and not worry.

But son,
if the worry
fails to
find you eventually
then don't
wear a frown
and worry again.

I wondered
if I hadn't
worried all this while
on this worthlessly
I would have
got rid of
my Other worries
at least.

Pat,
came His laughter;
I heard the God laugh.

Copyright © 09 Oct 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Pendulum and me

O' God
Why did
the pendulum
mock at me?
Doesnt it swing
under the gravity
like I do
under a woman?
Doesnt it have
a heavy
inverse head
unlike I do?
Or may be
it mocks,
as I have
two eyes,ears
and a nose
with a
straight wise head
to imitate it
flawlessly
and blindly.

Copyright © 01 Sep 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Otherwise, it's all very wise

I long perspire,
with an unending desire,
to be a millionaire
with all the pomp and fanfare.

But, isn't it filthy
just getting old and wealthy?

I have a fad to dress fashionable,
low waist jeans of all brand label,
mufflers around the neck
costing a hefty cheque.

But, aren't these external charms
like needless traffic jams?

I love to court a pretty girl,
take her around,
two of us, on a merry-go-round,
with chocolates and flowers
for the love of ours.

But, will we grow older
together,
forever and ever
or never?

On a lighter note,
shamelessly here I quote;

I swear every morning after
to see the sun early,
jog merrily,
and follow it regularly.
Exercising the legs,
bending the backs,
somehow, this idea drags.

I have a yearning to cook,
by hook or crook,
or all by the book.
Thus far, kitchen has been a place
with often eggs on my face.

I religiously plan the night before
to clean the room and wipe the floor,
only I think more and more,
ending up enjoying a long snore.

Thus, I opine
Otherwise, it's all very wise.

Copyright © 02 Aug 2010, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Apple crunch

Red ballooned
Of youth;
Grown a bit thick
And of desires.

Of my wet and
snobbish carmine eyes,
I lure to be tasted.

The sharp
shark tooth,
seethes
a goading bite;
In my ruins
I'm salvaged.

I feel now an Apple,
More an Apple
with that crunch,
which made me alive.

Copyright © 08 Aug 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Knocking at heavens door

Come talk to me,
I'm in search
Of those words.

Come hold me,
I'm falling
Beneath myself.

Come walk besides me
I'm in lurch
For a direction.

Come embrace me,
I need the warmth
Of those chilling days.

Come know me,
I can't live
Of a name unknown.

If not,

Come take me,
I'm knocking
At heavens door.

Copyright © 26 Jul 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Hopelessly in love

Don't you
play
the silent
alibi,

a belief
so false,
yet intense
to seem true.

I'm aware
that I was
in search
of the
Fool's Gold.

Yet,

I'm a man
gone astray
to be
hopelessly
in love.

Copyright © 27 Jul 2010, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Times, I reflect upon ...

"Hold me,
I'm too little
to free my arms
and fly past the raining skies",
she whispered in a mooned smile,
when I first held her.

The eyelids folded
as she saw the light of the day,
the bright morning rays
caressed her hazel eyes,
as she took a nap in my lap.

"Walk besides me,
I'm too little
to fall on my knees
and run past the wild world",
she hummed with a glint at me,
when I first read her.

The soft cupped toes
touched the burning earth,
as her little pink fingers
clutched my cold wrist,
when she took her first steps.

"Lets play
Hide and seek,
Cop and the thief, brother",
she stammered in a hustling tone,
when I first heard her.

We wetted ourselves in chilling rain,
ran around the hearth in winter,
waited to play with the butterflies
and smelled the scent of flowers in the spring.

Its been endless days,
seasons and years gone by,
and she's grown big to teach me things.
As I ride on the waves of times,
those little moments
in an unwitting pleasant way
numbs my eyes in joy.

Copyright © 21 Apr 2008, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved

Tonight,call me your Dame...

It's been ages of silence
I have slept upon.

Remember me?

The rose that smiled at you.
The sparkling tiny star
That winked at you.
The crescent moon
That hung in your wait.
The cuckoo
That voiced sweet melodies.
The sea breeze
That brushed your brows.
The blue skies
That mirrored you
In my Angelic eyes.

How would you recollect?

You wore me
In the scent of Cinnamomums.
You walked past me
Amdist the lovely violets.
You touched me
Of my satin fur silk.
And you held me
In the dark clad nights.

Look at me,
I'm dressed in flakes of snow.
Ear rings strewn of yearns,
Thin Black hair
Doused of cloves,
The beads of silvery pines
That lay studded
In the white gown of clouds.

Did you notice?

I know,You failed to.

In my weariness of you,
I long for an eternal wish;
Tonight,Call me your Dame...

Copyright © 15 Jul 2007, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved