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I am not a literary personality. I am just an ordinary servant of my heart. I write whenever my heart urges me to write. But the greatest irony is that my heart always urges me to write. It’s hard to cope with my heart because it often motivates me to burn the midnight oil. But till now I am coping with my heart and I know my heart and me will never part until the demise of my bodily forms. Yes, I love to write and now it is as essential as the wisp of oxygen for my very survival. Each of us is here for a brief sojourn. We know not why we are here. But I know why I am here. I am pretty sure by now that I was born to write and spread the message of love and unity far and wide. I have cherished only one desire and goal that by the messages of my poems....I may become instrumental in mitigating the miseries and heartbreak of others. With this humanitarian zeal I have engaged myself day and night wholeheartedly in this primordial branch of literature called poetry.
Poetry to me is the blood that circulates in my veins. It is the basis of my survival. Writing is not a hobby for me. It’s the way of my life. It is not the transient desire of my mind. It is the eternal desire of my heart. I don’t write because I am free. I write because writing makes me free. Writing takes me into different world, which is much better than this but being optimistic, I share my visions and my opinions with all to show that emotional pain is something most of us experience in life at one point or another. It has been that my poems are meteoric as a falling star. No doubt, I feel happy that my poems are slowly but surely gaining recognition from all around the world but I feel proud and overjoyed that almighty has provided me with golden opportunity to be able to express myself and my feelings. If there is any general idea underlying my poetry, it is the absolute love of love. Yes, I am in love with love and I hate nothing at all. I think with love we can conquer any obstacles with ease. I believe in God and I believe in Love. I have faith in this universal religion called Love. My works are filled with the love and belief in human goodness. Where does mankind stand today? Where is mankind going? By objectively analyzing and studying the fascinating and sometimes startling poems of mine, one can learn to accept heartbreak as a part of Love.
Last but not the least; let me have the pleasure of sharing with you all, a very special poem. It speaks in volume. Listen to it and scrutinize its messages, then it is not too long before you would know what poetry really is.
Grandeur Of Poetry

It takes tons of time to compose an ounce of poetry
But when it is composed it surpasses the eternity
Its connotation like the four seasons of the earth
May change from time to time, its authenticity
Like the existence of the deity will be questioned
From time to time, its manifestation like the
Symphony of clouds will be misunderstood from
Time to time, but its universal consensus
Like the perpetual soul, will forever live on,
And its grandeur, like the countenance of the sun

I wish I could be like this piece of paper....start brand new...No tear~stained memories, no heartaches, no fears, no regrets. To start over with a clean slate...I would have to die and go to Heaven to do that and I ain't ready to do that yet. So...I guess dealing with "reality" and the "love sucks" concept is my choice. There is a ridiculous word..."reality". I could go on and on about what I think reality is and what it's not, but I won't even go there. I have so many thoughts jammed inside this head of mine, it's a wonder it doesn't explode. Sometimes I want to just scream out loud, but then I would be thought of as crazy. If I cried, I would be thought of as emotionally unstable. So...I just keep it all bottled up, which will eventually cause me to have a stress~induced heart attack or a nervous breakdown. It's damned if I do, and damned if I don't. Dealing with divorce, failed relationships, trying to make ends meet, just to name a few of my worries and troubles. Yet...still, I manage to go through life with an artificial smile pretending the world is just frikon ducky.

My future is as that of a Rose.
It is soft, delicate, beautiful.
But it contains thorns.
Shall I remain on the tenderness
of the petals or take my
chances on the stem?
Just as the petals are upward
and the thorns downward,
so are Heaven and hell.
I shall have many decisions
to make in my future,
and time is flying by.

My future is in full bloom. These are the happy years. The carefree times when love surrounds me and I am serene. I am well aware of the fact that soon I will become old and gray, the lovely locks of my hair will change colour and fall out. Yes, just as a rose, the time is nearing in which my petals of youth will be no more. This saddens my heart. Yet, what is life?

I look back on my days of beauty and youth with a feeling of sadness and lonliness. Was that person really me? All lovely, fresh and dew-kissed? For today I find myself bloomed out too far for beauty, and gray around the edges. Oh, if only I had enjoyed my youth with gaiety and laughter. But no, I have aged far too fast. I spent my younger days worrying about what the future held in store for me. I shall now enjoy what is left of me before I completely fade away...

Oh, tender rose.
How thou art beautiful.
Thy petals show the
serenity of confidence.
If only I could share
thy beauty and serenity.
Yet, inner beauty is serenity,
and we all must strive
for this beauty.
Oh God, that I may achieve
this goal.
Yes, I shall live the life of
the Rose.

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