INFINITE SERIES OF NOWS

Can a deserted soul, strip his hurt, but love till eternity?

By conquering desire, reach the land of immortality?

Yes his care lives in the present,

But is born from the past,

Has no future to fulfill, no reason to be aghast

Yet he can cast his dream every second, in a stage that is vast.




But he cannot live the virtual play and earn his bows

And won’t decide the future (script) of the girl that he loves.

Impossible, 'MAN AIN'T,THAT SACRED!',

But I’m one among the doves.

I am today’s dream that flies forgetting the un-kept vows

And lives in hope, for eternity is an infinite series of nows.


- Sushil dev

A WELL DESERVED BITE

Staring at my blog canvas, to paint my rant,
I see a moon-walking speck, born as an ant.
Dancing on my display, distracting my art
The Rebel fed over me, like a strawberry tart.


Moving my arm, to crush the toxic sinner
A weird thought struck, and left me to wonder
Am I the rebellious ant, gasping its final breath?
Is the arm, the hand of god that signs my death?


If the thought is true, ain’t my killer an equal sinner?
But only English, treats us in similar manner.
By capitalizing both the human “I” and the godly “He”
It equates the individual man, with the divine Almighty.


“Food for worms” after I become numb,
But at least I guarantee you an original meal.
Hey God the mortal might succumb,
But the free-thinker won’t kneel.


And don’t expect the rebellious ant, to go down without a fight,
It won’t die without giving the ‘hand of god’, a well deserved bite.

- Sushil Dev