Skip to main content

Red Wine

By





For everything, there's a reason, as such, a time for birth and death. I just wonder what makes my life so different. I lovely fail before love. Love for life, what art thy shall remain until the last breath of my life! Romantically I would like to be killed by the love I love, but I am not stupid enough to bury my precious life for the love unloved. I drink wine and I have tasted almost all the precious of them. I drink and I love, I love and I live, I live and I am loving it. I love the mystic charms of life, the way it behaves, woos, and ravishes, what a piece of romance. I always wanted to stop writing about love, but my love for my life fails me and I write again! Life is such a wonderful gift I’ve ever had, there's failure, success, love, rejection, smile, sadness, poverty, luxury, silence, laughter, and many; but life remains as life itself. I am blessed!
PS: WINE IS A BOTTLED POETRY AND I AM A POET ARBITRARILY.

Comments

  1. Anonymous5 August 2013 at 20:55

    hail to thy little keats, hail to thee!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An Elegy on a Night Party II

By
They sing the funeral song on the death of their Day, “Day is dead, let's celebrate the birth of the Night from vivacity to ecstasy and finally a fall from the seventh heaven unto the abyss of dreams and lust.” Having nothing to do in the nights of my ‘usual routine’, I had my same chair on the same corner, a platform above the dance floor of the Seventh Heaven party club at the Down Town.             Everything in me tends to go on to become something else. The pervasive  aesthetics of life and the disposals of proposals from the mighty eyes of Almighty, I placed myself on the corner for no reason. My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. She holds spring against her breast and stares at me with sad eyes as if I’m a son of all other seasons other than spring. I don’t know who the she in my life is, but I keep watching and following her, th...
6 comments
Read more

A Utopian Hallelujah

By
UPDATED : I saw her first on 26 January 2009                    : This post was written on 18/03/2013: 06:42 PM                          : And i said what i wanted to say on Wednesday, May 22, 2013 6:18:00 AM                    : I met her in person on 16/8/14: 12:07 PM, the craziest thing I've ever done in my life! They say I am crazy 'cause I am in love with the crazy utopia. "Crazy Utopia" could be a person or her, obviously her, thoughts or even her existence. Each day i born new and likewise my love for her is new. I know her for the past five years and i am in love with her from that very point of time whence the "past five years" started. I've decided a myriads and myriads of times not to think of her ever and for never. But, I st...
8 comments
Read more

At the hour of Last breath

By
(A poem by Rafeeque Ahammad. Translated by Anand ) Stay with me at the hour of my last breath, Amassing the burning veracities of life, My Fingers are dead, Let them get ease by caressing you. Last molecules of my breath may cart thy fragrance. My love, let thy face plunge In the eyes of mine, never to be opened. Ears, no longer be opened for sounds, Be sealed with thy mellifluousness. Mind, burning with thoughts and memoir, Be filled with thy evergreen memories. Kisses-made scars on my lips, Heal in the sweet chants of thy name. Reminiscences of journey,   Unto thee my love, my feet tranquil. That’s enough for me, Buried under the earth, I resurrect- Newborn leaves of grass.
7 comments
Read more