In the Dynasty of Masters and Dames

The Sun has dropped down, turned Purple
The marble moonlight is decoyed in a hazy bubble
Lost and Erratic stands Nova's Fate
The Yellow rain is now namelessly defamed
In The dynasty of Masters and Dames
Beloved ! I call and call your name

I have lit with my fresh blood
The glass walls of sordid World
My Tears have tittered after years of workmanship
To Set Your Flask of wine on rythm's divine
In the Dynasty of Masters and Dames
Beloved! I call and call your name

The Pearless Oyster portends: my Life's sea is now shoreless
I am a Wayfarer my streets and roads are timorous
I have darted from ocean to sea, from brooks to stream,
The path has ended, still 'Respect' is a far-off dream
In the Dynasty of Masters and Dames
Beloved! I Call and Call your name

Copyrights reserved to Paras Ali

Poem is Like a Life

Tis life like a poem's prologue
Words, morpheme,lexeme
Rustling rhyme, rhapsody's regime
All conscize, charismatic and complete
Poet pipe's up as an infant muse
Verse and verse and verse
Like the wheeling kites hidding red sky's bruise
Syll-ables like a mell-ow effortless youth
And the midst of the poem is a golden fruity air

North with pepper vines and West dimpling with pears
Like the glistening diamonds of youth
Stanzas replacing school-satchels with plummets in pruce
Peacocks, pigeons and parrots flutter high in the air
Bidding farewell to the grumpy knots layer per layer
A perfect poem like the goddess Spring lying bare

And then the poet reaches the end
Yellow moon on the pale bars bend
Birds forget the art to fly
 Words turn crumpled crisp leaves
 Altared to fire
Diminishing divine ink droplet
 A broken pen, a page gone wet
And an empty poem's epilogue
Like a vie-able old old  age

Copyrights Reserved to Paras Ali

Dear hope

I somehow accepted that i was a grain or probably a dot in horizon. I knew i was an ogre which was to be munched by gods. I never thought myself a princess underneath a studded sky jewelled with gems. I embraced the fact that my skin was scorched , my gait listless and my Gray eyes looked more graceful when sunk in cavities. Yes let me tell you i accepted reality.

Then you came in my life. Your optimistic camaraderie asked me to taste the piquant flavours of dreams. I obeyed you, i worshipped you and i decided to cuddle you tight as a little infant does to his father in dark. I transformed myself first in topaz, then in emerald, later in diamonds , I became a victim of your laconic words. Years are passing by, seasons are alternating and it seems as if I am lingering on fragile strand of spider's web. If I go off the rails of my status I am accused to be a rebel.If I break this eerie of feminine tranquillity my chauvinist lords would outcast me to the farthest dunes of desert. Each night I am battling with the thousand questions sprouting inside my barren field with a fear of losing you . I only have you to cling with . Just tell me for once for how long I have to wait to pass this test of gratefulness and patience.

Yours

Paras Ali

Wish I were a word of a poet

Wish i were a word of a poet

He would scrub me in his thoughts

Once swept, dusted and polished

He would toss my curls in the air full of whiffs of fragrances

Later he would dress me in Syllables of satin sparkling with sequins

No matter how bewildered his eye circles had looked

On his wet eye lashes he would hide me like a pearl

Even if his chest tightened with long hours of weariness

I would come on tiptoes and ripple his silence with my hish-hush

A million times he would think, purse and pout his lips

To utter me in the company of bards

I would be his feeble light arch in pensive hours of dark

He would cloak me even if i turned a full ripe desiccated fruit

He would preserve me on his diaries and heart's flute

Wish i were a word of a poet

He would scrub me in his thoughts

Copy rights reserved to Paras Ali 2015

 Let no Memory Breathes

Clock less times I  have measured with depth
The corn sun turning Cherry red
And lone white tickled Moonbeams
Reflecting on the empty sky their innocent dreams
My Eyes have witnessed white and pruce's romance
Melting those poplars and bamboos in twilights trance
 Again and Again
All the way same

And those vulpine dwarfs of blizzard
Disrobing bronzite, topaz and emerald feathers of hers
The Clanking, chattering wind chimes
To the bird's ear, hitting sourly-scented divine rhymes
Again and Again
All the way same

Dear Thunder! I can smell you are near to my roads
My hand-made temple of flowers is your favourite resort
When you come,
Take all the sered petalish crumbs and my castles every part
I desire no more to drink the deluge of dream
Let No Memory Breathe
If Memory Once to my white Walls of Wait Entered
It would be a life Long Prisoner
Tempest ! blow a heavy Rain
Again and Again
All the way same

Copyrights reserved to Paras Ali

Because I live in Jungle

  My cooing and Boeing broke the vigilance of autumnal bars
The bony- billowed- Brook gifted some chaste drops  
For my tiny body, to dilute the blood's Flood
Sun disarmed the cloudy-cyclones and sent on slumber the boorish thunder
The Gooey Grove, the Willow Woods and the Natty Nymphs
Altogether Constructed for me an Islet in indigo Ink
When A toddler , I was a Ducks Only Duke
At Nine, a Regale Prince of Horses' Royal Regime
When A lean Teen, Lions, Jaguars, leopards and tigers aligned My Team
Later for a Man Of Wax, ostrich and Flamingo strawed Titans Nest
To get My monuments galleried  in manner best
Then Soon the serpents sand pinch by pinch counted my days
The Jungle above all has its Wild Ways
The Mother hungry Vulture took the first flight
And the Animal's Clan sentenced me to Exile;
" An Old Lunatic Wag: We Know You No More"
"Jungle has its arms for the living, For the dying it offers Doors"

Copy rights reserved to Paras Ali

In the city of lights I lost you

A Dark Wanderer
Penurious eyed I,
Fixed my feet 
On the Sky high miles.
The gaudy Lanterns
Dressed in bedizen flickers 
Blurred my sight
Lights refracted lights
The Compass measured nothing
But ponderous flux
Around needles ascending and descending
Embellished Colours
Inside Bright crystals muttered
From East to North
From West to South
Horizon was in Light's bouts
Here in the labyrinth of tinges,
Fleet of hues,
You appeared to me fairly middling
I found you the most colourless
I broke all the vows
I forgot you had been my life's seminal troop
I myself distanced from you
That dire moment
You did not lose me
But i Lost you
It was not the fate to be blamed
Reaching atop the opulent lamps 
I myself erased your name
(Copyrights reserved to Paras Ali, 2015) 

The Indifferent Sky

With splendour sky etches a copper orange on the elm trees
No sooner leaving a blanched almond trail over galaxy
The exquisite diamond of hers flickers in its ash grey rim
Hark hark hark its periwinkle blue bracelet clatters jauntily
Even while snipping evening,  Sky squeezes last drops of  alloy crimson
In the valley of ghosts still the fuchsia sky is juvenile and scintillating
Unyielding, adamant and ruthless she my mother never mirrors my melancholy
The radiant sky perhaps like the people of earth is a narcissist
She only lives to be noticed

@ Paras Ali/ 2015

Potrait

I never want any of your silvers glancing twilight
It envies me when amber sun-beams asserts on your skin its right
You do not know, orbed-moon plug pearls
To brighten its puce sky, earthly jewels are its earls
Rain Dropping low your lashes is your first love
I can not stand thunder-shower cuddling your curves
I die hard each day when indigo sleazy smog
Blurs all the distance and stand between us like a rock
I want nobody near you
I pray nobody touch you
Not even meadows, grove, billows and willows
I have caged rosy orchards, i have locked each door

I have heard pages turn yellow, they do de-age
I have seen blue,yellow, purple ink shortly gets fade
If i wrote you
Books would captive you
Fingers of readers would touch you
I want none.
I want you to be virgin
My Love! I have squeezed all my heart's hues
From my blood i have brushed
Yours and Mine Portrait....
Frozen in time and space
Copy rights reserved to Paras Ali 2015

Dying dreams inside the Pearls

Nor the Pearl's fear ever wrenched the  vase's heart neither any of them wished to trick their better half. The slightly puce shaded pearls and the crystal vase together had measured the delight of flickers of light slithering over them and then swirling around their hollow hours of wilderness. The life inside the vase has surpassed the life outside. How often the twigs tapped on the window panes, birds sung to their young ones lullabies and wind rattled against the frangible pearls , the vase sat there with its eyes clamped shut. At times from the lower fissure of the blinds wan moonlight from the starless sky, crawled to the room and cuddled straight the numb creature of glass but no sound , no tinge helped them to stutter to life. The roots of autumn have shackled the glass balls and the vase and the agony of dying dreams have made them indifferent towards pastel blue, opaque onyx, turquoise and olive greens of spring.

I wonder these pearls were my ancestors enveloped by the subtle sheen of crystal who once lived in the sand castles.They had cherry lips, coral pink cheeks and black brows. These  humans were like big massive rocks crashed by the giant waves of the sea. Their bodies would have slackened each time they caught breath to observe the splendour of the oysters lying close to them. Indeed they were like empty toys from inside but from outside they transformed themselves into burnished pearls.

I  am also residing inside the emporium of grandeur and lustre and  some day I'll turn a pearl too and later nor the world will make any difference to me nor the flames of my dying dream will make my presence felt to the multi-canvassed world.

I die a slow Death

I begin my day with crescent-sun which wave a wand
On my Life's fatigued crashing meteor
The tiny pocket of air  to my ocean dark deep eyes give currents
I hiss, I murmur,I stand , I walk ,I run
I can see the cluster of arms around me
Bopping up and down over my side walks and alleys
The noon sun pulls back noose from my neck
Layer by layer the day's dews cut my unkempt haze
 I am living, yes I breathe, I can feel with in me hope's heat.
The cosy sun drifts me to a peaceful lap
I dream, I dream and I dream
When I wake, the twin shadow of yellow tinges are gone
Another world, seeds of darkest deserts are born
I grope in the dark, I can not see
Vineyards are blanketed, starless night gulped all my fields
Unacknowledged unappreciated I am back to quagmire
I each day travel between dawn and dusk
Between indignations and contentments
Each day I die a slow soft death.

@Paras Ali (2015)

To The Critics

Don't you see my lords
My book has out and out white pages
Empty Chapters and skeleton free alphabets
No words i have scribbled,
No pattern of thoughts
No finger prints of mine nor traces
Show you are Mighty
Prove you are Potent
Burn my each end
Turn me a limpid monument of disobedience
But take my verdict
No book on myself I'll ever write...

@ Paras Ali (2015)

He says , "I am a slave"

Were you a king then you would know
The king of justice your words doth lie
I was not an inborn slave

Was not i
A queen?
In the isles of my father's blood
Tangled with in a crystal sheen
Did not my mother's veins feed me?

At times named
A baroness
A countess
An imperial Monarch.

Cushioned by her brawny muscles
Abed i reigned ,
Womb's three trimesters.
To have my single glimpse
Did not you cluster all the negatives
Out of x.ray films?

You bite her dust
You trim her words
You Clip her bones
You chop her flesh- laden zones
Of the one
Who was born once
A high-born Dame