POEMS

1. UNTITLED I love her, but that lives me. I give her joys, she enjoys it. She kills her, when I ask her. when I ask her, she adores it. When I am back, she's backer. She's there, always, for I want her. I want her for I love her, but she hits her for she's been closer, too close to live her. what's mine and that's not hers, I like it when I hide her. I meet her, when I need her.  I need her for she's not her. she's not what, what I want her. Now I hit her When she tells it, that I am old and not bold, the blood runs is of cold one. I need a gun and more pun to my life and the style one stands alone, that not so far gone. You know that she's not there, where I look or they see. But I found her when she, asked me, if knew her or she did. by: Dileep Kumar Delhi University

                                                                                                                                            Strokes of A Sketch I don't know how beautiful you're, but somehow could know, the beauty beyond beauties you're! Heart of lotus, softened petals, smiled disposition and hue along deafening silence hold distilled exhibition, like a perpetual night that aura is so vibrant and the moon is just bright, only you know if it is right. You're free  and transient so is the moment yet endeavoring to freeze both herein black 'n white.        ...