Poem is not simple combination of words to verse, but is the expression of soul and mind........
Great people said great things; and yes i do also get inspired. But to me it's not the end. It is like a question to me that, 'now it's your turn'.
'Two sorts of writers posses genius-
One who thinks and one who cause other to think' - quoted.
I am as all you are, holding a half refilled pen, few blank sheet spread over the desk and bitting the nip, starring on the white clean sheet for some reason to make it marked and dirty. Honestly i am little odd; but if you give me that reason that you hate me, my reply will be the same reason, why you should like me. more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
kalyan mech Poems
If and then
If beauty is a gift Then what is deform. To me it is not curse.
Do The sky knows What is wide? Do
Rain Of Remembrance
For you my wandering desire rise Beloved, on my both palm, For you only my vigin love Is weaving hym after hym of psalm.
A Thought Of Mine
There are two thing in this earth- One is too scarce and Other is too abundance. Scarce is readily to get but
My Best Shayaree
A translated shayaree Don't ask me how i got hurt. Friends, don't ask me how i got hurt on my forehead,
A Merry Journey
I want to ask a question, Time; Are you running to fast? But i know he will smile and say, 'I don't know what is slow or what is fast,
A Toxic Street
Haze eve i was wandering among The pavement of the toxic street, Dark clouds sang a numb song A vile sorcery to greet.
Did He made that bright glow darken, The illume deity in daily tedium, As her travail jump off bed before He awakes And she naps after he does; it's her quotidium.
We Being Are Egotistic
This world is not ours, we left it someday before, Here science is leading the way to injure And keeping her wonders at her store. The worthwhile piller of lanky wax,
Don't laugh at me Though i seem puzzle; sit still Pulling my bosom towards my knees.
My Path Is Lost
My path was lost somewhere But when; i foget, Maybe with this gloomy sunset And amist this brutle sphere.
One sunny day
The pleasant plain enclosed by mountain And the cloudy sky hanging over, As they hiding a heaven from alien discern, Who knows not the mystery ever.
Riding on a pony From far alien land, Along with a daze soul And dry dizzy hand.
Day by day Many days ruin Few of those left some magical tune. Which can never forget;
Comments about kalyan mech
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
If and then
If beauty is a gift
Then what is deform.
To me it is not curse.
If beauty depends on insight view
Then purify your reflection
To me deform needs nothing to nurse.