Poem: These Human Beings! This World! This Universe!

Ah! This soft breeze,
the sweet scent carried by the breeze
of beautiful flowers,
Sky larks' joyful songs and flights
from the green fields,
Ah! Ah! Ah!
How sweet!
How sweet!

A Tribute to Aaron Bushnell

You are a true global citizen.
Your life is not in vain
but a beacon of hope for mankind.
Though you could have indulged
in the pleasures of modern technology,
you chose a different path.
You decided to fight for your country,
to sacrifice your precious life
for your motherland.

Poem: library!

I would say
I love that world
in many ways.
When my mind gets disturbed,
storms of sorrow blow,
and unsteadiness engulfs me.
I start my journey towards it.
Like that world journey,
no other journeys give me satisfaction.
The scenes there are beautiful.
Understanding the language of birds,
learning scientific achievements—
any amount of time I travel,
losing myself without thinking
anything in that world.
The best thing about the world is
the time ship

Poem: An Old Bookshop Experience!

Buying books from old bookshops is
mind-pleasing and enjoyable.
The joy of purchasing from
an old bookshop
is a distinct and unique experience
compared to buying a book
from a new bookstore.
The availability of book selections is
much more limited in a new bookstore.
For example,
you can't find nicely bound
serials with illustrations
that appeared in old magazines
or comics in a new bookstore
like you can in an old one.

Camels are marvelous!

Camels never break down
and never get tired seeing deserts,
never get scared witnessing desert storms.
they love traveling long journeys.

Whenever mindstorms blow,
trapped in the whirlpool of memory,
losing boats in the mind-sea,
and swimming,
I think about camels, wishing
I were a camel.

In those moments,
I think about camels
that are tireless
in the long journeys
of turbulence.

An Object-Oriented Program!

Falling leaves, chirping birds,
blue skies, trees, lakes, twinkling stars,
humans...
Who wrote the code of this program
of space-time
where we all function?

This program has bugs
like all other programs,
but it's exceptional
in one aspect:
It allows
its objects
to fix their bugs.

Where are you hiding, superhuman?

Concrete! Concrete! Concrete!
Walls of innocent white surfaces
that absorb the rays,
radiating flames.

Cement-coated pavements chuckle.

Spaces which lost themselves
in the warm embraces of the
valorous columns.

The hot rays seep through
the layers of air.

A liberated bird in the empire of solitude!

I am chained in the empire of solitude.
As a slave or master?
Neither of them,
But as an entirely liberated
and adorable bird singing.

In an unfettered world,
does any ghost of distress exist?
In the world of no laws,
does melancholy exist?
The rays of light,
friends of mine,
shyly hide behind my flying.

Poem: Dimensional Barrier and the Question of God! or You Are My God!

Below us, there are Flatlanders.
Visiting their world is my preferred hobby.
Differences in dimensions benefit us,
because of this,
the world of Flatlanders always entrances me.
The reason behind this bliss is the superiority complex.
It's our weakness as well.
Is it not enough for my bliss or entrancement?

A Request to Mother Nature!

Mother! Mother nature!
Grant me maturity
that finds Contentment
in feeling -
having is enough.

Mother! Mother mature!
I surrender to your feet
and beseech only this.

Mother! Mother mature!
Remove the profligacy of fate.
Blossom the knowledge-thirsty,
valiant mind that understands fate.

Poem:A Letter to Someone Living Extraterrestrially!

Many send a poetical messenger
to faceless humans
and eyeless figures.
However, I'm not sending
this message to them
but to you.
I have never seen you, and
I will never, ever see you.
Between us,
there are light-year-blocking walls
and the illusionary appearances of time.
But my mind is not getting tired;
the mind is not getting tired;
the mind is not getting tired.
It certainly believes that
somewhere you live.

Yes, you live –
in forests, caves, or on cold-spread mountains,
taking the first step of time
or moving through space with arrogance,
perhaps even destroying your planet
with wars due to ignorance.
Sometimes, you may be a wonderful creature
with a super mind.

Poem: Modern Vikramathithan's 'Time'

Who's laughing at me
from the inside?
Every time, this laughter
becomes your habit.
In the expanding space-time,
your laugh, the patterns created by you,
or your cunning narrative
are not new to me.

In the layers of the night sky,
looking at your adventurous laughter,
each night I feel it in the stars,
in their strengths.
But success always belongs to you.

The poet who transcended space-time! (Kannamma poem 5)

Kannamma,
In the one-way journey of time arrow,
Is time reversal possible?
For consciousness, no barrier exists.
What?
Yes! That is it.
No barrier exists.
Without any hesitation, it can travel anywhere.
Does time have any meaning
in existence in a quantum bubble?

Poem: A Squirrel And I

A dancing squirrel on the branch
of a maple tree.
Through the squirrel and its joyful dance,
the beauty of creation could be felt.

What a moment of realization!

The joyful dance of this squirrel
won’t be an eternal one;
it won’t last forever.
Once it will be gone with its dance,
it will be history.

The Damsels Of The Night Sky And Their Giggles. ♡

Outside,
darkness envelops the night sky,
which extends infinitely.
Space expands,
and the stars giggle.

The damsels of the night sky.

“Oh, the Women of darkness!
Can you share your secrets with me?”

The Wanderers Of The Sky And Their Cry Of Melancholy.

 

Lying in bed,
the sounds of the rainy night
and the view of the gloomy sky
touch my heart deeply.

It has been raining
cats and dogs since dawn.

Rain.
The tears of refugees,
the tears of stateless wanderers
of the sky—
the clouds.

My Humble Request To The Bellicose Rulers Of The World!

This is my humble request
to the bellicose rulers
of the world.

Do you know Ashoka?

Ashoka the Great,
a great Indian emperor
who ruled the country
two thousand years ago.

He, once a warmonger,
became a great
peacemonger.

He, once a warrior,
transformed into a great
pacifist.

The Tropical Man!

While lying on the bed,
I glanced through the windows
to see the urban night sky.

The sky without stars!

Melancholic thoughts engulf me.

Thoughts of the tropical night
bring back the good old memories
of the land
I left a long time ago.

A Refugee’s Thoughts On Birds

From tiny to very large,
slow to fast,
observations taught me a lot
about birds,
about the space-time where
they gracefully fly.

Different birds fly uniquely;
behave distinctively.
Some use their knowledge to
glide through the air,
while larger ones employ air currents
to ascend skyward.

Let me know your answer, Kannamma! (Kannamma poem 4)

Kannamma, our space-time exists
inside the cone, a wave-cone!
Yes! An electromagnetic wave cone.
Inside the cone, we dance with dreams.
We dance with plans.
We dance with thoughts.
We dance with feelings.
The reality outside the cone,
that is unknown to us, Kannamma!
Is it similar to our space-time or not?
Have you ever thought about this, Kannamma?
Tell me, Kannamma.
Happiness is derived from
thinking about and beyond that border
or barrier, Kannamma!