Aniruddha Pathak Poems

As the river flows
Smoothly as it goes,
No music follows.
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This life, a deep well,
Filled from without, it won't swell,
From within, it shall.
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A poem hatches in the poet's heart,
To recreate which he has to try hard—
Painstakingly brick by brick, part by part,
Head struggles— be it of novice or bard,
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A pen on blank page
Earning karmic wage
Be this life, a pilgrimage.
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It's like washing-cleaning a skunk
If mind its murky muck retains,
A fish remains in water dunk,
Her stink still as ever remains.
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What if Mona Lisa's treated like corn?
In multiple forms made and marketed?
From one of a kind and mysterious born,
What if it steals no heart nor turns keen head?
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Sight of dull moon of the day,
Of bright youth lost in lust, astray,
Devoid of lotus a lake,
Charming face, in learning no stake,
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History seems happy things to teach
If one wants to learn, if has the itch,
No one is a winner
Nor ever a sinner,
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True, void without you could be pain,
Yet, loneliness is not a bane,
And even pain is often good,
For, I'll enjoy my solitude.
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Move over I-am-fine for I'm-good,
My-bad makes old ‘sorry' pretty prude.
Semantic upheaval,
Spirit of time's free will,
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