I have a knack for poems
But words can fail to be loam
For saplings of feelings
That bear long lost leaflings
Of joy, desire, peace:wondering
If I drove them away–
Or you who didn’t stay:
So I sift through each day.
I have a knack for poems
Making my heartstrings strum
Each time receding into shadows
That haunt my self-more hollow
It all seems: i reap and I sow;
Asking for more and more
Yet feelings are meant to lure;
Charmingly destroying the cure.
I have a knack for poems
Poems that haunt my being.
I have a knack for poems
Poems that show unseen.
I have a knack for poems
Poems that slip words-
Leaving me still unsure.


Let’s sit and talk

Over a bowl of cereals

And make decisions

That impact millions

Let’s sit and talk

In expensive suits and walk

Pretending to be saviours

Yet in truth launching careers

Let’s sit and debate

Over Syrian State’s fate

Talk of Daesh, launch on children bomb raids

Bearing medals of a Crusade

Let’s sit and condemn violence

Deem them to humanity an offense

Vote in your ‘power houses’

And sign deaths of innocent

Who then is violent?

You or ‘them’ or the innocent.

Scatter of concrete..

The papery walls have crumbled

Bit by bit what shook has tumbled

Heaps of stone have pelted down

Home has become a wrteched town

Riots stopped but so has life

Silence reigns scuffle and strife

Paint has peeled to show ugliness

Neighbours can now hidden witness

Children that cried have hushed up now

Shooed into fear where there was row

Struck by absence of the battling voices

They have created their own angry noises

Not long before the ruin is complete

In a town none notices scatter of concrete