Tag: poem

MIDNIGHT POETRY – ‘Be Who You Are’

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mediocre life
from job to bed
selling your soul
raise the bar

load a camel
cross a desert
refuge in an oasis
who needs a car

fragrant spices
lamps and oils
awaiting at an
exotic bazaar

coins and trinkets
for a rainy day
collected and stored
in a glass jar

find your guru
under the bodhi tree
who do you think
you are

search on google
still not sure
sit in meditation
go beyond far

a chair or a bed
get inside your head
undergo an operation
without any scar

kundalini rising
if you have no clue
do your research
it’s rather bizarre

convincing as real
conscious energy
is what we are
god and a superstar

https://open.spotify.com/episode/6vlVRaHvL1oyIRs8AidYtH?si=noraucB-T5evHCvG04M6hA

Poem ‘Be Who You Are’ read by the author.

MORNING POETRY – ‘Unreal’

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who knows what’s real
only living can reveal
if it’s a good deal

until we all feel
strong as a steel
of an automobile

thieves resort to steal
some beg for a meal
organic would be ideal

our whole planet can heal
nobody has to kneel
layers of truth we peel

life is surreal

Poem ‘Unreal’ read by the author. Access for subscribers. Subscribe for more content.

MIDDAY POETRY – ‘No Kiding’

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someone asked
is there a reason
i don’t have a child

I just sighed
to myself
‘not again!’

who likes to answer
questions like that?

there is myriad of reasons
for every decision we make
whether conscious or not

yet when someone asks
there is not much to say
or it goes like this –

‘because of blablabla’
the other person
hears nothing

just feels the need
to explain and justify
their own situation

as they already
have kids
usually without
much prior thought

Poem ‘No Kiding’ read by the author.

MORNING POETRY – ‘Uncertainty’

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so here we go
my cheeks are too fat
that doesn’t sit well
with my pants

is it the sweetness
of the food i eat
or the emotions
harbored within

my life story
unwritten untold
creative activities
fixed on food

where to find a joyous
focused task
giving me purpose
how to feel alive

for one I know
writing does it
my fingers help
the mind to settle

the reader is still
to be discovered

The poem ‘Uncertainty’ read by the author.