Words

“Words” – a much hard earned achievement of mankind, an achievement still not fully achieved. Words are mesmerizing things. They can make you smile, make you cry, make you proud or be ashamed for a long time. Sometimes thousands of them can’t express a single stupid idea, a single feeling and somehow sometimes its absence… Continue reading Words

Happiness and Poetry

Oh, how poetry ceases to be found when happiness is. The comfort, the exhilaration, the joy, all of it overshadows and suppresses all the aesthetics, all the intellect trying to pen down a poem. The feel is there, that sweet scent in the air present, but how do one find words for a perfect fit.… Continue reading Happiness and Poetry

The Color of her Eyes

Her voice sweet and warm, Subtle to the core, A word she utters And you want to hear more. Wrinkles on her nose when She smiles, a little crooked Hiding what’s inside A little caring, a little wicked. And her thoughts, My oh my, So dear to me,I smile Trying not to cry. But, hazel,… Continue reading The Color of her Eyes

Leaving home

I am leaving. Well, not forever, I know I’ll be back in a month or two, back to my home sweet home. When I return I’ll be on a two-month long vacation. Yes, two long months. I have no idea what I’ll do in those two months, maybe go hang out with some old friends, maybe have… Continue reading Leaving home

Sitting at the café, Alone

Sitting at the café, Alone I wonder, waiting, The only thing in my hands now Is a cup of tea, getting cold. Why do I not love you anymore? Why do I not look at the door and expect You’d come back, today, tomorrow, this week? Why are my senses going numb so? I see… Continue reading Sitting at the café, Alone

Mind

Mind is an afternoon, Though not a normal one, An afternoon right before a storm. Everything so colorful, But not too bright. Nature in the perfect light, The perfect form, The perfect contrast; The skies smothered by clouds, Painted with a tint of Red, As if painted by a lover with his own blood, The… Continue reading Mind

A Meeting with Hitler: Feb 6, 1945

1945, February 6th, The day my life I risked. It was over a game of golf, Was chatting with Hitler, yes, Adolf. Oh, I am a 127 years old, A secret no one I’ve ever told. And I had a cuppa tea with the Führer, It’s fact, not fiction, I couldn’t be surer. “So Führer”,… Continue reading A Meeting with Hitler: Feb 6, 1945