Wipe it off!

Courtesy: Google Images

Your dry lips were beautiful than,
The bold red lipstick on it,
Wipe it off, you had the beautiful face.

Take off that mask,
And the unusual shades,
Why you are so packed in your handbags?

Lady, woman, female,
Gentle lady, obsolete soul,
Why you are still so same?

Wet smudged eyes,
Your big eyes are divine,
But, why they always cries?

You earn, learn and move,
You revere, smile, greet,
And how your residues remain?

Break the string for a second,
Relace yourself in the arms,
And teach us how to deal with falls?

Lady, wipe it off,
The stuff you cart as burden,
You are absolute with a genuine heart.

-SWati Shobha Sevlani
Copyrights, 2014

Silly pages! Poor Papers!

To the thousand pieces torn from A3, A4 sizes of paper..
And sometimes half of A4 fixed in some spiral diaries,
Getting detached with the stretching holes...

Thank you for carrying my silly poems, 
Thank you for making me good to previous one...

Thanks for removing some unwanted weeds growing in my mind and some useful emotions which were about to reap...

Thank you paper and pages for not having ears to hear all those stupid things and creeps and creeps...

Thank you paper and pages for listening my every poetic needs..

Thank you silly pages and paper to get expired when I ask you to die...

Thank you poor you, for bringing a death to the poet in me.

-SSS
Copyrights, 2014

Unattainable Horizon

Land of multi-horizons,
A horizon beyond the barren grounds,
A horizon appealing dusk and dawn,
A horizon of expectations,
A horizon of unattainable love,
A horizon of dreams and horizon of my thoughts.

I started moving ahead thinking its nearby,
Now I realize its the same distance left to travel,
The way earlier it was.

-Swati Sevlani
Copyrights, 2014

The Long Way Back Home

Where the edges and corners of rocks turn smooth, 

And star accompanies me at their best till morning,

Until the dark vanishes and sun breaks the dawn.

Where the love is associated with selfless things and cups of being high priestess..

Where the motherhood ends with lullaby and without lullaby.

Yes, I am back to home,

The long way back home.

Not alone but the place of solitude,

Where the words don't ends in poetry and sonnets.

And expressions of winters ends by embracing the warmth of the heart,

Yes, I am back to home,

The long way back home. 

-Swati Shobha Sevlani

Copyrights, 2014