Loner

I walk alone,

From the forest of dreams,

A tiny wish plucked away..

I feel the wind of desire,

Brushing my hair.

And I hold my breath.

A stare at the sun,

I let it look down at me..

Proud of its light;

Oh dear, beast of light!

However,

you may look down at me,

I will rise again tomorrow,

To stare at you.

My blood has lost its red,

It's now black and white,

Grey,

The color of my soul.

My smile,

a twisted lip on frozen face.

And my eyes will show nothing,

Just emptiness,

So deep,

You wont dare to reach.

I am here all by myself,

Dont know,

Where I will end up,

I run against destiny,

From the forest of dreams.

A solitary traveler,

Lunatic,

Is on the hunt,

Smelling tears,

I love the pain...

Anybody around?

To reach for me?

'Just back off and stay away! '

(c) Ankur Shrivastava

Eternal Love

These tears have a story to tell,
I have kept them in your heart,
To cry with my pain,
As we turn around this corner,
To take different roads.

It’s important to stay apart,
So as to miss each other,
And keep loving long after,
The secret of love is known.

This evening walk is a pensive sigh,
From the lips of a tired day.
Its warmth would be lost
In the cold night of broken stars.

I will come in the morning again,
With the dew on green grass,
Whenever your tears will fall,
I will hold your hands again.

Those would be little moments,
Little verses I will read to you,
Little mornings spent together
For that we shall live forever.

(c)Ankur Shrivastava

Wrong Dream!

Have you ever dreamt?
Tender and misty,
Unknowingly...
Without calculation,
And felt it hit you
In the chest.

A heavy heart,
A heavy sigh...
Have you searched
For those wishing wells
From fairy tales...

I have...
And so I stand on the shore,
Waves come, tides rise and fall,
No clue of the missing pearls
From my eys.

After every triumph
Have you known...
The glory is shortlived
The admiration false.

I have...
And so I stand
On the losing side.
Waiting for time to deliver
That knockout punch.

And when I close my eyes forever,
I will dream one last time,
My dear dream
That went wrong.

(c)Ankur Shrivastava

“GOOD MORNING!”

8 AM,

Something is buzzing in my head,
I fly off the cliff in my dream…
Oops! I trip from my bed,
Bang! On the cold floor.
Alarm clock screeching.
Ah! Not today.

8:30,

I zoom on my bike,
Engine cold, fuel low,
False gear and cranky brakes
Broken headlight, shirt soiled
Heavy fine, angry cops.
Ah! Not today.

9 AM,

Slowly I walk to bus stop,
And there she goes
In her flashy car.
And is there a guy with her?
Holding her just the way I ache to.
Ah! Not today.

 9:30,

I reach the college gate,
Alas! The lifts are jammed,
I take the stairs for 7th floor.
Hurried feet miss a step,
Pangs in back and a screaming gut.
Ah! Not today.

9:50,

Guys laugh and girls giggle,
I am one stupid joke,
Professor asks for apology,
I open my bag and reach for pen
And see what comes out, a cigarette!!!
Ah! Not today.

10:30,

Time means little now,
Kicked out of the class
I head for an expensive breakfast.
Coffee and dessert with chocolate sauce.
God! Where was it that my wallet fell?
Ah! Not today.

11 AM,

The restaurant owner is a burly man,
He bullies me to do the dishes
To pay for the breakfast bill,
I settle on “waiter stuff” instead.
And in comes she, with her friends.
Ah! Not today!

Ankur Srivastava(c)

Where is the poem?

"Where is the poem?”
You asked. Your eyes, still so beautiful,
If eyes can be painted in words,
Their color, and sheen,
And the way kohl smudges after a tired day.
And the pain and silent tear
That never falls.

I told you not to talk of poems,
For, poems make us sad,
Rather look out of the window
The rain is about to fall.
The drops are sweet like teenage love,
Oh teenage love! Why doesn’t it last?

May be I will write a poem again,
A poem that won’t make us sad,
Like the flowers in the vase,
Oh! Don’t they look real?
And yet they will never die.

A poem with a smiling face,
Like your photograph in living room,
That hasn’t aged, not at all.
But, then I want the lines of your face,
That remind me how you added a little love
To the everyday pains of my life.

I can’t write a poem.
But may be someday,
I will steal one,
From the way your hair hides your face
When you are asleep.

You can find it in your lazy yawn,
I will read to you
In a sweet morning kiss.

Ankur Srivastava(c)