Best Autograph Poems
Can you sign my lips,
Sign them in the handwriting
Of all your kisses
I hate to say it, but it's true
You don't like me, I don't like you
It's good to graduate from this place
So I won't have to look at your face.
before the dense shower of rain
i’ve placed by notebook for taking autograph
before the whole-night music-show
before the non-busted shell of tear-gas
but i can’t put it before your uvula
till now
sitting in the dark-balcony
touching the nevus
here i am
creeping in the air
is my silky handkerchief
in its every layer
is the disgorgements of the burnt cigarette
and the radioactive water
all over the body
the bird procreates assassination
getting lost with its wings unfolded
in the common people
without leaving a fingerprint
Her light, peach face
Is like a blossoming tulip
On an infant stem.
Those kind come expensive in Memphis
So they say.
I went to the zoo to feed a giraffe
Brought some chocolates to the staff
Chatted and had a good laugh
Told them my dream was to meet Steffi Graf
See if I could obtain her autograph
And beg her for a photograph
So I’d print a humongous lithograph
‘Top tennis pro’ as epigraph
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on March 3, 2018
You were with me in every moment
You were in every smile of my face
Many times I proposed you
And Still I am waiting for your answer
I spent my 4 years of my engineering
In loving you and never bothered about my future
You used to tell me to become some thing
But I am in your love and forget everything
Everything gone out of my life
You and my engineering
And I never cried
Because you are in every drop of my tear
I don't want to leave you from me
My love became my inspiration
I thought to do some thing for her
I started my job search
With no good qualifiaction and no english
But still there is a hope of your love
And I never regret of anything
With so many struggles and obstacles
And now I owned a company in which
The employees are great engineers
She is in the interview queue
I saw her and surprised
I proposed her
But she said ''I am the mother of 2 children''
And I am still waiting for her answer
AN OPEN AUTOGRAPH
(To All My Friends There And Here,
Then And Now)
On the bald branches of the lightning
That avoids the dark earth below;
Around the nipples of the October rain
That pamper the thousand lips of the earth;
I see you all; believe me.
On the receding waves that carry all the conches of the earth away into the bottom of the sea;
In the lidless red eyes of the fishes
That lie on the fishmonger's table;
When you sprout as the fountain-head of the parched river;
Now I see you accompanying the flower to cross today's turbulent river.
When all the unseen children crisscross the busy roads into infinity;
When you play with the orphaned tiger-cub in the wild within;
Believe me; I see you all.
While the female sweepers' fatigued hands scavenger all the condomed words along the streets;
When the lonely walking sticks stoop along my old verandas;
I see you all spinning around the earth.
When you unbutton your mind to the sun;
And your braless thoughts hang at my peeping window;
When a mischievous finger wanders into the most willing navel;
When Rahat Fateh Ali Khan burns my back with a thousand watts of energy;
I see you playing cards with the gods.
When the lunar night decides not to pluck the solar flower;
When the unwanted sheman on the train tells the story of the seedless fruit-bearing tree;
Believe me, I see you all here at my desk;
Yes, when my pen speaks to me the most illegible words,
The indecipherable of all.
(The End)
AN OPEN AUTOGRAPH
(To All My Friends There And Here,
Then And Now)
On the bald branches of the lightning
That avoids the dark earth below;
Around the nipples of the October rain
That pamper the thousand lips of the earth;
I see you all; believe me.
On the receding waves that carry all the conches of the earth away into the bottom of the sea;
In the lidless red eyes of the fishes
That lie on the fishmonger's table;
When you sprout as the fountain-head of the parched river;
Now I see you accompanying the flower to cross today's turbulent river.
When all the unseen children crisscross the busy roads into infinity;
When you play with the orphaned tiger-cub in the wild within;
Believe me; I see you all.
While the female sweepers' fatigued hands scavenger all the condomed words along the streets;
When the lonely walking sticks stoop along my old verandas;
I see you all spinning around the earth.
When you unbutton your mind to the sun;
And your braless thoughts hang at my peeping window;
When a mischievous finger wanders into the most willing navel;
When Rahat Fateh Ali Khan burns my back with a thousand watts of energy;
I see you playing cards with the gods.
When the lunar night decides not to pluck the solar flower;
When the unwanted sheman on the train tells the story of the seedless fruit-bearing tree;
Believe me, I see you all here at my desk;
Yes, when my pen speaks to me the most illegible words,
The indecipherable of all.
(The End)
In my subconscious mind turning with time into
a fertile field in the fond landscape of flourishing youth,
long before corrosion of crumpled confidence started,
I planted the sapling of a tender tree called ambition,
nurtured by passion it grew to feel the touch of the sky.
In my aspiring mission I wasn’t confused in the core,
in life’s arena I fixed my focused vision on the bull’s eye.
In wild winds blowing across the times' rough topography,
the seeking arrow didn’t deviate from the aimed course,
I achieved the goal I set for myself, and sealed the fate.
The travails of uphill climb couldn’t contort my resolve,
for pleasant surprise awaited me on the mountain peak,
where morning sun’s golden rays tinged feathers of fame
that got attached to my flamboyant name, and I knew,
if I were famous my signature would turn into autograph.
March 4, 2021
Contest : If I Were Famous
Sponsor : Joe Sandler
AN OPEN AUTOGRAPH
(To All My Friends There And Here,
Then And Now)
On the bald branches of the lightning
That avoids the dark earth below;
Around the nipples of the October rain
That pamper the thousand lips of the earth;
I see you all; believe me.
On the receding waves that carry all the conches of the earth away into the bottom of the sea;
In the lidless red eyes of the fishes
That lie on the fishmonger's table;
When you sprout as the fountain-head of the parched river;
Now I see you accompanying the flower to cross today's turbulent river.
When all the unseen children crisscross the busy roads into infinity;
When you play with the orphaned tiger-cub in the wild within;
Believe me; I see you all.
While the female sweepers' fatigued hands scavenger all the condomed words along the streets;
When the lonely walking sticks stoop along my old verandas;
I see you all spinning around the earth.
When you unbutton your mind to the sun;
And your braless thoughts hang at my peeping window;
When a mischievous finger wanders into the most willing navel;
When Rahat Fateh Ali Khan burns my back with a thousand watts of energy;
I see you playing cards with the gods.
When the lunar night decides not to pluck the solar flower;
When the unwanted sheman on the train tells the story of the seedless fruit-bearing tree;
Believe me, I see you all here at my desk;
Yes, when my pen speaks to me the most illegible words,
The indecipherable of all.
(The End)
AN OPEN AUTOGRAPH
(To All My Friends There And Here,
Then And Now)
On the bald branches of the lightning
That avoids the dark earth below;
Around the nipples of the October rain
That pamper the thousand lips of the earth;
I see you all; believe me.
On the receding waves that carry all the conches of the earth away into the bottom of the sea;
In the lidless red eyes of the fishes
That lie on the fishmonger's table;
When you sprout as the fountain-head of the parched river;
Now I see you accompanying the flower to cross today's turbulent river.
When all the unseen children crisscross the busy roads into infinity;
When you play with the orphaned tiger-cub in the wild within;
Believe me; I see you all.
While the female sweepers' fatigued hands scavenger all the condomed words along the streets;
When the lonely walking sticks stoop along my old verandas;
I see you all spinning around the earth.
When you unbutton your mind to the sun;
And your braless thoughts hang at my peeping window;
When a mischievous finger wanders into the most willing navel;
When Rahat Fateh Ali Khan burns my back with a thousand watts of energy;
I see you playing cards with the gods.
When the lunar night decides not to pluck the solar flower;
When the unwanted sheman on the train tells the story of the seedless fruit-bearing tree;
Believe me, I see you all here at my desk;
Yes, when my pen speaks to me the most illegible words,
The indecipherable of all.
(The End)
AN OPEN AUTOGRAPH
(To All My Friends There And Here,
Then And Now)
On the bald branches of the lightning
That avoids the dark earth below;
Around the nipples of the October rain
That pamper the thousand lips of the earth;
I see you all; believe me.
On the receding waves that carry all the conches of the earth away into the bottom of the sea;
In the lidless red eyes of the fishes
That lie on the fishmonger's table;
When you sprout as the fountain-head of the parched river;
Now I see you accompanying the flower to cross today's turbulent river.
When all the unseen children crisscross the busy roads into infinity;
When you play with the orphaned tiger-cub in the wild within;
Believe me; I see you all.
While the female sweepers' fatigued hands scavenger all the condomed words along the streets;
When the lonely walking sticks stoop along my old verandas;
I see you all spinning around the earth.
When you unbutton your mind to the sun;
And your braless thoughts hang at my peeping window;
When a mischievous finger wanders into the most willing navel;
When Rahat Fateh Ali Khan burns my back with a thousand watts of energy;
I see you playing cards with the gods.
When the lunar night decides not to pluck the solar flower;
When the unwanted sheman on the train tells the story of the seedless fruit-bearing tree;
Believe me, I see you all here at my desk;
Yes, when my pen speaks to me the most illegible words,
The indecipherable of all.
(The End)
Swords belong
to those who wield them
Peace a dream
to those still sleeping
Wisdom lost
to visions promise
Blood the signature
—on heaven’s gate
(Dreamsleep: August, 2022)
the spinneret autograph
not too kind to the insects -
the little people
the web of rich and famous
deceptive, friendly and fake