AFTERTASTE

To the teacup of life,

You added three teaspoonfuls,

Of your sugar like smile,

And made the morning wait for a while.

On the platter of thoughts,

You served handfuls of hope,

Garnished with your trust,

And made the delicious breakfast of joy.

In the bowl of conversations,

You stewed your bountiful memories,

To make it taste spicier,

And made the lunch memorable with emotions.

On the saucer of a lazy siesta,

You spread the butter of excitement,

Making it melt with the warmth of your feelings,

And made the snack of tastiest delight to linger longer.

In the dining plate of life,

You generously doled out,

The pickle of your playful side,

And made the night travel to its dreamiest side.

-vociferous

DANCING WITH CRIMINALS

It was an invitation of temptation 

To become what they were

Little bit of brigands

Whole lot of tormentors

With no dreams to chase

Lost in the haze of heinous crimes

Their homes were havens of blood bathed times

It was a journey of discovery

To explore what they possessed

A treasure of weapons

A fixed deposit of ill desires

Everyone chose the path to conspire

Damaging everything that came their way

To the dance of death they loved to sway

It was an enigma of horrendous clues

To opine on their views

Shoot on sight

Killing anyone is alright

Fearless in their pursuit of power

They neither repented nor longed to care

Bloodshot eyes kept evading emotional tears

It was a gory glory of being lawless

To no deeds of theirs did they ever confess

Living for a day

Dying another day

They doused homes of rich and poor people

Hid in stolen blankets they carried guns and sickles

Shedding blood and mashing human flesh like pickles

It was tough to resist the temptation

To let the mind succumb to criminalization

Every day seemed like night

Every moment of being alive shuddered in fright

Nothing could have been so gravely scary

In pursuit of freedom the mind grew wary

Finally the inner self escaped in a scurry

-vociferous

MY INSTINCT IS MY CONTENDER

I am extremely impossible

When moments arrive of being possible

I choose to remain speechless

When my speech is in need of urgent stress

I am extremely intolerant

When circumstances demand me to be tolerant

I choose to remain rugged

When my demeanor is supposed to be managed

I am extremely bitter

When taste of conversations can be sweeter

I choose to misjudge myself

When my judgment defaults my own self

I am extremely volatile

When situations are to be kept docile

I choose to stay indifferent

When my conscience too prompts me to be different

- vociferous