Biography of Vinod Sharma
Know me by my words alone.
Vinod Sharma Poems
I sit wondering in the sun, Who forged this puzzling one With infinite poise charm and grace And many strange and wondrous ways.
A cigarette is lit, Up in smoke it goes, It is lit again.
Love, Light, Fright
No one else before, She sighs, Has taken her Where he has or nigh.
Heaps of Ash
From the heap Of my ashes A tiny flame rises Even as embers have died.
No War Memorial. Still. 'Ye Dil Mangey M...
In the dark Of India's ravaged Yoni, Flickers a tiny flame.
A Wound Too Deep
There is nothing left of me my friend, But a battered and shattered heart that bleeds, Many a wound it had borne with strength But this last one was just too deep.
Broken Leaf 6
To the leaf at him laughing, Said the broken leaf, You will too fall that day, When so desires ‘that' tree.
Fading blush of the bottle brush Green gulmohar all aflame Summer kisses spring. Again.
Two birds of joy Perch on my tree of sorrow, Harbingers Of a golden tomorrow.
Black clouds of corrupt politicians Seem to have swallowed India's sun, The skies are a weeping at this turn, But for them this river of tar is fun.
Egypt's New TV Channel
Colour television, Black veil, Modern technology, Medieval jail.
Bureaucracy is designed To enable Extraordinary individuals To deliver
He could well have been a sadhu - A flowing beard, a matting mane - Contemplating mystical zebras Of life's transient joy and pain.
Moonlight On Wet Leaves
Moonlight on wet leaves Makes them quiver in the still night, Its mark of passionate love it leaves And takes a hurried flight.
Echoes In Memory
Echoes in memory are all I carry
And a little voice which tells me:
What is not today shall be tomorrow,
What today is not tomorrow shall be.