What it is dark will remain dark unto the last,
Dark is dark,
Let it be
As light comes dispelling it.
...
My love, the world knows it not,
How deep is it my love for you?
The men of heart are not so many
...
A poet of America and Americanness,
The American dream am I,
Even going across the Atlantic and the Pacific,
Singing of democracy,
...
Now see I not the vultures
Labouring on the carcass
Thrown into the fields and fallows
Or the dead body of the animal
...
On the Twitter men keep tweeting
Tu-whit, tu-hu,
But the house sparrows
Neither chirping nor twittering.
...
On the Facebook whose face shall I come to see
As meet they not,
Just chat from far off
Online if the link is available,
...
It is almost twenty-five years complete
When I started writing poetry in English,
Withoput knowing the Indian writers of verse,
Just after Eliot, Keats and Wordsworth
...
The poets of the present times, I mean the new-age writers
Of English verse discuss I,
Marking it who comes from where,
Who says what?
...
When I see the flowers, I feel shame in calling myself a poet,
When see I the beautifully looming flowers,
So radiant, so colourful and fast,
So sparkling and caclking.
...
Julie, I love you,
The day since when I saw you, I have not,
Have not forgotten you,
What can the poor heart do
...