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Pummy Sharma Poem
In the bosom of platform,
There lay two peculiar lines;
Which used to be so fascinating?
In my lovely childhood.
But now the hot potato
Of my cherished heyday.
For I have heard now,
That these lines are parallel;
That they don’t intersect
And the distance remains constant.
But my intellect plea;
Poor will remain deprived,
Because the corruption is parallel.
Weaker will remain underdogs
Because the demagogues are parallel.
Politicians and their electors,
Will remain always in conflict,
Because their ideology is parallel.
General students will always suffer,
Because the reservation is parallel.
Drunkard will remain satisfied,
Because the bars are parallel,
Parallel to each highway road.
Lovers will remain parted,
Because harsh rule of the
Ostentatious society is parallel.
Tell me please, for God’s sake,
Does these lines are really parallel?
Or they intersect somewhere far away.
May be other platform or station.
Or a junction, where number
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2011
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Pummy Sharma Poem
Like rain drops beating
Against the window pain
My heart beats in rhythm
Against my bosom,
When your eyes
Holds me from the border.
Like a rain drop
Passing down the pane
With the last shower,
Like a dying flower
My excitement also
Drains away with your departure!!
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2013
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Pummy Sharma Poem
I have learnt to live without you,
though you capitalized me.
Trap of your damn memories,
The liquor of false promises,
Has ruined my whole life.
Now, I have stopped living,
Living in the fanciful world;
For the trap has been altered;
Altered with a dark room.
Still exists the liquor
But in the liquid state;
Black, bit smelly and bitter
Yet very less bitter than
False and deceptive promises of yours.
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2011
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Pummy Sharma Poem
They say,
If character is lost
Everything is lost,
But what happens;
When somebody’s love is lost.
No one dares to comment,
No one will ever forecast,
Because definition of love is very vast,
Love is beyond caste,
Love is beyond state,
Love is beyond time,
Love is beyond country,
Love is beyond alpha century,
Love is like dust,
Circulating in the universe.
Love is in lover’s eyes,
Love is in lover’s sight,
Love is lover’s presence,
Love is in lover’s fragrance.
Love doesn’t mean always to get,
Sometimes it also means to lose.
Love doesn’t stop with separation;
It becomes more and more established,
Like sugarcane turns sweet;
With the running wheel of time.
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2011
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Pummy Sharma Poem
It was a winter night so cold,
Fog and mist made it difficult to behold.
Hardly there was anyone to talk,
At a distance I saw a policeman on walk.
With a little swagger, Stomach full of beer,
He was blinded by his vigor I swear.
At a corner there lay a beggar,
Shivering and throbbing with piercing air,
Cop came near, who was
Demented by the churning beer.
For the sake of his ostentatious power,
He got hold of the beggar’s collar.
He gave him mighty blows,
From chin, chest, stomach to toe.
Suddenly from his starved body,
Blood began to flow.
His sniveling cry
Ventilated my pavid mind.
Help! Help! I cried,
But my eyes were dry.
Either it was very cold,
Or my desires were not that bold.
With a deep sigh and chest held tight,
His departed soul took a long flight.
I was still standing there,
Cursing beggar’s fate.
I gathered my courage,
But it was too late.
Next morning,
Local newspapers were flooded
With headings of various types;
“One more gave up to cold”
“Freezing cold, one more dead”
“What is government doing?”
But the last one
Shook me within,
What was I doing?
In that cold winter night.
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2012
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Pummy Sharma Poem
You came in my life
Like seasons advance in year.
First you were like summer;
Hot, pinching, irritating and unbearable.
After summer you became
Very cool, firm and frozen like cream.
It had very much in it to
Attract someone for once and for all.
Then comes the hard and breaking autumn;
Leaving stunned, desolated and depressed.
It is disgusting to see weathered leaves
When someone loving; also leaves.
After wretch autumn,
Comes angel spring.
Green, colorful, lively and energetic.
More enough to forget the
Hardships that how we parted.
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2011
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Pummy Sharma Poem
What was I?
Perhaps a dying bird,
Kicking the last breath
Out of my breast.
Lying there I liked the place
Where I had dwelt.
I was fluttering my wings.
Oh my God! There was no pain as such.
I was thirsty,
So I needed little water
There was a demon there
Who wanted me to slaughter!
He picked me up
In his dirty hands,
He broke up my wings
And pulled up my hair in strands.
I remembered my dad,
I often remember him
When the situation is bad.
I cursed the demon
But he never left me
And clutched me even tighter.
I couldn't resist my tears
And heavily wept,
The demon didn’t stop
Till he completed his act.
He left me in rugs
With the soul as same.
Suddenly the world looked dark
And I hadn't had any shame.
I stopped remembering dad now
Because the idea seemed bad now,
I wanted to hold my breath
I wanted to close my eyes;
I wanted to hug my death.
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2013
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Pummy Sharma Poem
You are around me
Watching me, liking me
Every day every hour,
Every second.
I look at you every day too
But still can’t see
Through the moist air
Even when my heart plea.
With every passing day,
And every passing night,
My heart beat is increasing
And my calmness vanishing.
Through the dry air,
I want to smell your fragrance.
Through my heart’s telescope
I want to watch you,
Your blue eyes so vivid.
How can I find you?
When the people
Are more concerned
About my looks rather than my soul.
More eager to know about
My wealth leaving behind my health.
More eager to know
How will I die?
Without knowing
How will I survive without you??
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2012
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Pummy Sharma Poem
O God!
You are a fraud,
Why have you taken,
My mother so far?
Who will woke me up?
Who will dress me up?
Who will scold me?
Who will love me when I cry?
O God!
Please bring my mother back.
I am still a child,
Who don’t know how to chide.
She was so gentle,
She was so humble,
How could you kill her?
It was a blunder.
Copyright © Pummy Sharma | Year Posted 2011
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