Ajay Seshadri

Rookie - 67 Points (01/03/1983 / Chennai)

Ajay Seshadri Poems

1. Common Measure (2) 8/8/2010
2. Haiku 8/8/2010
3. The Bliss Of Drifting 8/8/2010
4. Every Throb Is A Drop! 9/29/2010
5. Where Mails Never Reach 9/29/2010
6. A Phrenic Quake 1/24/2012
7. Gentlemen By The Pillars 3/2/2012
8. The Last Petal (Sitigotyo) 3/2/2012
9. The Rubaiyat 3/7/2012
10. The Rubaiyat 2 3/7/2012
11. Self-Taught Swayambhu 3/7/2012
12. I Doubt Or Do I? 3/16/2012
13. A Grey Rose 3/16/2012
14. Sublime Intoxications 6/30/2012
15. Where Is The Cry Coming From? 8/7/2012
16. The Sweet Deception Of Adversity 8/21/2012
17. The Rubaiyat (3) 11/22/2012
18. Common Measure 6/26/2010
19. Come Again Lunar Eclipse 6/26/2010
20. Hand Moves Slowly 7/1/2010
21. The Target Of A Compass 7/5/2010
22. Container In The Contained 7/5/2010
23. In Faith And Chance! 7/6/2010
24. Tanka 7/15/2010
25. Tanka (2) 7/15/2010
26. Tanka (3) 7/15/2010
27. Tanka (4) 7/16/2010
28. A Note From A Banished Thinker 8/31/2013
29. Sharp Eyes But Drowsy Mind 1/21/2015
30. An Idiom Can Change Your Life 8/31/2013
31. From Magic Of Flowers Sublime 1/6/2015
32. Senryo 7/16/2010
33. When You Grow As A Seed! 8/5/2010
34. Twilight Visions (Sitigotyo) 7/24/2010
35. The Conflicts Of A Balanced Mind 6/21/2016
36. The Abode Of The Third Eye 6/16/2013
37. The Dark Horse 7/8/2010
38. As Windows Open (Sitigotyo) 7/6/2010
39. Verse By The Graveyard 7/4/2010
Best Poem of Ajay Seshadri

Verse By The Graveyard

Past the graveyard down the road,
Lives or dies a man out cold
Every minute is a burning desire
For him to feel there's nothing higher.
Hope he knows is also despair,
The lie of the land begins to stare
Every minute is a burning desire
For him to feel there is nothing higher.
Will any hand rise from the many dead?
Maybe it's time to be quiet instead
Breath continues no more so
The dead is the living let the dying grow
The man with nothing in him to feel
A sorrow or regret meaningless to conceal
Yet every minute is a burning desire
For him to feel...

Read the full of Verse By The Graveyard

Hand Moves Slowly

I'm nondescript now but I hope that the woods can tell me
The pebbles all make sounds and I search for their maker
The streams follow through to lift the beats as I move on
But I cannot find the maker for where is he?
The birds are few and so in-between I can hardly see them
I finally reach the banks of a pagan river and sit on the raft
I remain seated waiting for my customer for I need the money!
When? I hope it doesn't get too long for we are all slaves of time.
I notice one approach

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