sink

sink
move

Monday, August 3, 2009

you left since then

It was all so quite made no sound

Did not feel your touch as I was deaf

Silence if you call or the sound of nothing

May be it was me or the empty voice

Drowsy my eyes inebriated your love

You called me but I was unheard

Things make no sense you left since then

First summer I felt cold even when sweltering

Could not feel much, your love, my pain or anything such

The swift air or the rusty wind all the same

Drenched in pious faith in me but you mistake

Did I try or pretend the sacred voice to listen

I ignored you whisper something of essence

Lost my intelligence you left since then


Manjit Kumar Tiwari

Friday, August 8, 2008

no more than me

Why judge me? You don’t know me.
Why scold me? I’ve done no wrong.
But your eyes are filled with hatred
And your face holds no warmth
What have I done to deserve such pain?
What have I done to endure your scowls?
The looks you give me
Burn through my skin and scotch my very soul.
How do you think your better?
How do you think I’m worse?
What gives you the right to pass judgment on me?
You are not a judge, king, or my God.
No hypocrite can see my heart or know my mind.
So what makes you think you are more than me? ­­­­

Monday, December 10, 2007

lost inside

A commuter doomed within
wondering if he is still alive
the rush of life, the effort to fight


under the dark apparition he tries to find
the happiness inside
then smiled, nothing lies beneath the eyes

bound to this man made world, targets to meet.
Eternally, he will die

no wonder why people call it life


crumbled into million confessions his soul yelled,

as he is departed, burn my life!

He followed his shadow, asked to not be like this anymore...
let the world die, let me say goodbye.
once again I breathed, once again he tells a lie

he was still there, gazing into my eyes

I was afraid of the rotting inside
he smiled, killed another life
so easy for him this time

pain I like, pleasure to my eyes

a frenzy desire for blood to drink
for flesh to eat, nothing to fight


and I know I am dead inside
for the rest of my life, I will not find
the perfect rhyme, a divine rhyme

I deserve to die young, all alive!

I can’t live this half dead life.


Manjit Tiwari

Saturday, December 8, 2007

father returning home


My father travels on the late evening train
Standing among silent commuters in the yellow light
Suburbs slide past his unseeing eyes
His shirt and pants are soggy and his black raincoat
Stained with mud and his bag stuffed with books
Is falling apart. His eyes dimmed by age
fade homeward through the humid monsoon night.
Now I can see him getting off the train
like a word dropped from a long sentence.
He hurries across the length of the grey platform,
Crosses the railway line, enters the lane,
His chappals are sticky with mud, but he hurries onward.

Home again, I see him drinking weak tea,
Eating a stale chapatti, reading a book.
He goes into the toilet to contemplate
Man’s estrangement from a man-made world.
Coming out he trembles at the sink,
The cold water running over his brown hands,
A few droplets cling to the graying hairs on his wrists.
His sullen children have often refused to share
Jokes and secrets with him. He will now go to sleep
Listening to the static on the radio, dreaming
of his ancestors and grandchildren, thinking
of nomads entering a subcontinent through a narrow pass.

Dilip Chitre

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

mist to blame

It feels like I wish to talk, I would love to go for a walk.

Happened before but this time it’s not like that anymore.

Believe is what I seek and trust is what I have to do

Then I got a letter but not from you

Should have read it would have known

Mystified in disdainful grace, cried but not this time

I was down but courage followed not again!

One more chance, one more walk,

It wasn’t so hard, you were cold, my mistake

All over again, trust me; I am left to be blamed

Deserved all but none, loved much and then

Asked so much, got so much, unhappy still

Never meant for me, belonged to someone else

Then I opened my eyes, it was real…

Little dew on my feet and mist to blame

Mystery in the letter waited all night

And when I opened it, got you this time

It was real, I remember…

A walk, a letter, a dream,

In love … shoot me again, by bullet this time


Manjit Tiwari

another second coming

You are chosen by hell, I’m left unblamed
There is an empire in the boundaries of hell
I see rotting Christ, deeply, slowly, choice fully!
The illusion of fear and the joy of death
My sense crawls by the time of the SECOND COMING
Earth bleeds in search of death by pride...

We all are dying in this second coming
Faith is blind and the rays are dark
Another one to fall in this dark mud
It is “you” again to die in fame, bleed to ease!
Choose your death, evil is God, so is "NIRVANA"
My time to fade, I dig my grave...

I die; your blood shall follow my obituary
Like a domain of death. Church will cry
CROSS will bleed... So as my life
Follow the dust in this new coming... "DEVIL'S COMING"
The holly one... This shall disappear the joy!!



Manjit Tiwari

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

solitary boy


Few years have passed till date
Have mercy, oh god! on his miserable fate,


The fun and frolic and the joy has gone
His life has become a cloudless dawn.

A speechless day a speechless night,
With none around to feel his plight.

And the gloomy air would again be tomorrow,
That will bring more grief,pain and sorrow,

ALONE HE WEEPS ,ALONE HE THRIVES,
ALONE HE FAILS, ALONE HE TRIES.

He needs no sympathy,he hates being consoled
And dislikes those people,by whom is told.

"alas! What a poor chap is there"
Just piercing words,no love ,no care .

He wants to be loved, comforted and understood,
He tries to laugh as loud as he could,

As a brother , sister , or a friend ,near and dear,
To reassure his hopes ,to drive away his fear.

Wont you come up to make him realize..
His cherished desires, his lost paradise?

Wont you help him to scale those heights..
To make him decide the wrong and right?

Wont you strengthen his soul to face ..
The odds of this life and this mad man race??

HE NEEDS YOUR SHOULDER TO PUT HIS HEAD ON
AND A FRIENDLY SMILE, WHEN YOU LOOK HIM UPON.

Maybe he will be of some help to you
For as long as you live , his friendship will be true.

You can make a change , at least you can try ..
Because the solitary boy is none but i..
Because the solitary boy is none but i..

Manjit Tiwari