The Wise Fool


And whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them.

I kept my heart from no pleasure,

For my heart found pleasure in all my toil, and this was my reward for all my toil

Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it,

and behold,

All was vanity and a striving after wind,

And there was nothing to be gained under the sun.

 So I turned to consider wisdom and madness and folly.

For what can the man do who comes after the king? Only what has already been done.

 Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness.

The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I perceived that the same event happens to all of them.

Then I said in my heart, “What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” And I said in my heart that this also is vanity.

For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool!

So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me,

For all is vanity and a striving after wind.


Forever And Always

forever and always 2

The sea shore and the sea line,

Have seen and saw the stripped lines,

Of my dreams, that rolls with the rocks and sand,

That stands tall and rocks my world,

Dreams that are close to my heart,

Forever and Always.


The sand grains on the ocean floor,

Have swam in the rain of my tears,

The flowing rivers,

Have drank from my gourd of happiness,

The sparrows and the crows,

Have heard my distant whispers,

And they have flapped their wings,

In the wind of my silent wishes.


The scorching sun,

Has witnessed my sweat and hard work,

The moon and stars,

Have sang songs to drown my fears,

And as darkness fades, and morning draws nigh,

Beneath these dust and cobwebs,

Beneath these bits and pieces of a broken heart,

Lays a promise I intend to keep,

Forever and Always.

Thorns and Thrones


Thorns and Thrones,

A beguiling facet,

A face of the past and the future,

Fact and Fiction, Dream and Reality,

Hope and Faith,

Thorns and Thrones.


So the preacher preached,

The teacher taught,

The alcoholic drunk, whiskey tots,

The wiser spanned, Wisdom thoughts,

And the dreamer…. Dreamt,

Dreams of Thorns and Thrones.


Thorns and Thrones,

For the head meant,

One for pain, the other, Reign,

For Kings and Queens,

And them too that believe,

The best is for their taking.


Thorns and Thrones,

Are all but a choice,

Same as War and Peace,

Love and Hate.

Life is,

Thorns and Thrones.

Light of Darkness

falling star

It was one of those late poetry nights,

Those nights you walk on deserted streets,

And words are company,

 Rhyme, doing a dance, One, Two, Many,

Dancing to music, only the heart understands.

It was one of those silent nights,

The moon was full,

 And stars myriad, Twinkled,

The crickets, chirped,

And frogs, with croaks, distant,

Joined in.

It was one of those nights,

That my heart leaped, and joy bubbled,

And in the dark of those nights,

That the lightning of love, struck me,

And its also in the light of that darkness,

That I lost you,

And Darkness Dawned.

These Beauties

the girls

The girls in my life, are poetry,

Endless lines of rhymes,

That tell of beautiful stories,

Skin tone, amazing,

Reflects the tone of poems,

That tell of heroes,

Who left their spears,

To lift fallen enemies.

The girls in my life,

A species rare, but not extinct,

Characteristics, distinct,

And like wine, ripe,

Beautiful with age.

The girls in my life,

Are music to the ears,

Their laughter, a resonating echo,

That resounds in the dark lonely moments,

Soothing balm to the heart,

Their hearts, are fountains of joy,

Like the sunrise, they are beautiful,

And like the sunset, calm and peaceful.

The girls in my life,

Are sisters and friends,

They love, passionately,

And care, deeply,

They are a blessing,

They are gems, gifts,

They are the best.

Dust in The Wind

Dust in the windRemember now your Creator in the days of your youth,

Before the difficult days come,

And the years draw near when you say, “I have no pleasure in them”

While the sun and the light,

The moon and the stars,

Are not darkened,

And the clouds do not return after the rain;

In the day when the keepers of the house tremble, And the strong men bow down;

When the grinders cease because they are few, And those that look through the windows grow dim;

When the doors are shut in the streets, And the sound of grinding is low;

When one rises up at the sound of a bird, And all the daughters of music are brought low.

Also they are afraid of height, And of terrors in the way;

When the almond tree blossoms, The grasshopper is a burden, And desire fails.

For man goes to his eternal home, And the mourners go about the streets.

Remember your Creator before the silver cord is loosed,

Or the golden bowl is broken,

Or the pitcher shattered at the fountain,

Or the wheel broken at the well.

Then the dust will return to the earth as it was,

And the spirit will return to God who gave it.

“Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher,

“All is vanity.”


Daylight Fades


Day light is fading, and darkness seeps in through the cracks,

Empty bottles of liquor, are just but bits and pieces of a day, long,
Littered with broken hearts and shattered dreams,
Tears, one with the rain,
Hope, lost, buried under the mud of pain,
Daylight fades; it all comes down to this.

In silence, truth harshly stares back,
Love is bleeding and the day is gone,
Your arms, that familiar home I knew, now a distant past,
A city burning, crippling all we shared,
I would go back if could, but it’s too late,
Daylight fades; it all comes down to this.

Hi and goodbyes, hugs and kisses,
All chocked in an amalgam of hate and betrayal,
I see the darkness, through the cracks,
I feel the cloud of loneliness hovering,
I’m empty; I’ll run away, I’ll run away,
Hide, and wait for another dawn,

Daylight fades; it all comes down to this.


Silent echoesI am on the verge of extinction,

Not because of any distinction,

But the poacher, that loneliness is,

Robs and kills the beauty of echo,

All am left with are thick, dark clouds of silence,

Where words, dance to the beauty of my dreams,

Words are my voice, words are my love,

I caress every syllable and feel their curves,

I massage every letter feeling their heartbeat,

I am lost in the deep trenches of vowels and consonants,

Drowning in their beauty, covered by their monologues,

There are feelings that are hotter than fire,

And then there are those, that are warm,

That makes you feel safe, and peaceful and happy,

Am reborn in the world of words,

Where they, call me son,

And the battles I fight,

Are against silence,

I may be slowly, fading,

In the land of voices,

But my seeds are deeply rooted,

And will soon,


Second Violin

Second Violin 2

Have been a perfect shadow,

Tall when you needed me to be,

And short, when you took a bow,

Danced on the wall, while on the stage you played,

Played the second fiddle,

The Second Violin.


I buried myself, and in your skin lived,

Became the echo, of your resounding voice,

Wore your imperfections and radiated your beauty,

My beautiful and ugly, lost in the mist of imitation,

Covered by the dust of limitation,

Cobwebs, a sheet of comfort.


But it’s finally dawn, and light I now see,

The hard truth, bold, like the sun overhead,

The music you play, is finally boring, and tired have become,

I can’t continue to harp on, about your greatness,

When mine is buried, slowly rotting away,

It’s time to make this pyre, a stepping stone,

Time to also cast shadows, cause ripples and echoes,

It’s time, time to be, THE FIRST VIOLIN.


I may not be the best, nothing close to you,

But with all my weakness and faults,

I’ll proudly do me,

Be I a storm, I’ll be the ever wrecking one,

Be I an itch, I’ll be the one you have to scratch,

Be I a rainbow, I’ll paint the world my colour,

Be I a star, I’ll be the brightest the galaxy will ever have.


Be I me, I’ll be the best version of me, the world will ever see.

Wisdom Is a Shelter

Sun flower

A good name is better than fine perfume,
    and the day of death better than the day of birth.
 It is better to go to a house of mourning
    than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
    the living should take this to heart.
Frustration is better than laughter,
    because a sad face is good for the heart.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
    but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.
 It is better to heed the rebuke of a wise person
    than to listen to the song of fools.
 Like the crackling of thorns under the pot,
    so is the laughter of fools.
    This too is meaningless.

Extortion turns a wise person into a fool,
    and a bribe corrupts the heart.

The end of a matter is better than its beginning,
    and patience is better than pride.
 Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit,
    for anger resides in the lap of fools.

 Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?”
    For it is not wise to ask such questions.

Wisdom, like an inheritance, is a good thing
    and benefits those who see the sun.
 Wisdom is a shelter
    as money is a shelter,
but the advantage of knowledge is this:
    Wisdom preserves those who have it.