Words

They say that

where there is smoke

there is fire.

 

They say that

where there is a will

there’s a way.

But I don’t care

what they say anymore,

It’s not their call,

I have repainted the idioms

and they are drying under the sun-

Words that stare at me

imbued with new meanings.

 

They say, they say,

they say, that’s all they could ever do.

But now I say and I stick by my words.

And my words don’t lie.

A celestial conversation

sun and moon

The sun and the moon
appear on the sky.
Day and night having a tete-a-tete.
They don’t share a cup of coffee,
No waiters in tuxedos linger
with plates of confectionery,
(and) No music is heard playing.

What do they talk about? , I wonder,
Not of salary hikes, soaps and voting, I’m sure.
Maybe of wind currents, rainbows and rain;
But I am uncertain.

But please wait for a minute
while I try to catch the words
that pass between the sun and the moon
Who are deep in conversation
In the wavering shades of the sky.