White eyes, May be peace. Narrow-long nose, May be lie. Red bloody teeth, Surely evil. Tentacles on head, Surely to pull. I am the painter, Who paints self too.
Through the Window I woke up to the cool breeze, in a rainy morning, having a wet perfume. While the chirpings of the birds felt so sweet, the orange lights from the window made me pure. I saw the drops of life on the window, having a orange flavour. I saw through the window that it was raining, the sky was orange, the drops were light, as we all like. The tree adjacent to the window looked never so green. While the bloomed flowers of complete colours looked very nice and gave total purity to the atmosphere with it's sweetness. Leaves were swaying to the rhythm of the cool breeze to express what the morning, the rain and the breeze meant to them. Meanwhile, through the window, on the wet street, i saw a little puppy sitting wet and alone and looking at a mom dog with its pups. He was wondering something, as if he wanted the love, care, guidance, the joy of family. I felt so bad. I wondered if his mom was okay? The feelings of the dog can only be understood by p...
"Tears"- C. Acharya I made the Mahal, of Taj, Also the list, of Schindler. Made her run, Towards the dying devdas. Made the temple, of Konark, And the jump, saving people. Made Baji Rout stop, the British, And also shot with pride. Creator of poets, Who make my poems. I make you strong, Tears? Let it come.
Poem-Finding Solace We both talk, To each other, Night and day, Dawn and dusk, About the stars, About the mountains, About the Romeo-Juliets, In our beds, In our works, In our leisures, We found solace. Our neighbourhoods burn, The smoke comes, Still we talk, We breath in the love, For each other, Hence we found solace. POET- C. ACHARYA