"The Journey with three poems" is a small collection of the three inter related poems from the collection of innumerous English poems of the poet. It gets completed not with the mere three poems but truely gets successful with the arrival of the true angel in the poet's life and its not neccessarily meant that the poet has actually encountered with one beauty whose physical presence can be sensed in the present world. The discovery of the poet's purity by the true angel can also be philosophical and for literary joy too. It essentially targets those who live a lonely life and prefer to travel as a loner but ultimately, on his way, his true angel welcomes him to realise the true meaning of both of his and her existence on the earth, in the humane world and indeed in the universe as a whole. The poems may be well read by gentlemen when they are alone or for their beautiful angels.

"My Undiscovered Purity"

Alone, I came
Alone, I will go
Who is there to walk with me?
But none, at last.

To you,
my tongue doesn't speak
my heart speaks;
my eyes don't see,
my mind sees.
My soul wants to meet your's
Where are you?
Oh!, no one for me
my useless dream, it was

I am mad...?
Life is funny,
where reality becomes illusion
Where none dares to discover the humble and the pure.
My wealth lost,
my moments gone,
my energy wasted,
my dreams shattered,
Only and only to make myself,
A man of mockery,
a man of failure.

No more, I am the King in a Lost Paradise of fantasies,
I have failed to know "Life"
but,
I have passed to learn "Man".

My eyes are filled with tears,
I call them "the price of my foolishness".
But, still, those tears are pure
I don't want to let them fall down
on this impure soil of mankind.

Console my inner self,
mend my broken heart,
bring a smile on my face,
When can I laugh whole heartedly?

Oh!, my friend "Loneliness",
You are my strength,
You are my audience.
If you have decided not to walk with me,
not to discover me.
I am happy;
happy that in my small attic,
I have discovered myself, my own purity.
Why should I tell it to others?
Let me fight the battle of my life alone.

"My undiscovered purity" was composed in the midnight between 14th and 15th August, 2005 . This poem was webcasted on April 16, 2008.




"My First Angel"


In the mid of night,
suddenly,
I remember the face of my first angel.

Tears roll down from my eyes,
Thinking of those moments which are still remembered by me, mostly.
Unknown smile captures my face,
I look up at the cross and convince myself,
gone is gone.

Again as usual,
asking myself, "Can I still wait for you?, O! angel."
But, how long?
Impatiently, I was brought up
emotionally, I was played upon.
It has been a long time since I left my mother's womb,
It has been a long time since I left my almameter,
just as I was so weak to stand alone without your eyes.


Gone were those days I walked with you, in your garden.
Gone were those moments I sat with you in the moonlight.
Gone were those silent breakers I created for you.
I don't wish to remember my past.
Let my past be dead,
but,
" Can I kill my first angel?"
or,
" Can I let my first angel be killed?
Never, never.

Oh! God of Strength,
where are you?
Am I a descendant of God of Weakness?
Again, I look up at the cross.
My sobbing gets stopped
as I get convinced
since I believe in Him.

I ask Him,
"Why shouldn't I forget the angel?"

Where she is ?
Where I am ?
The princess of her destiny, she is.
The slave of my destiny, I am.
What a difference!,
its a lovely one.

I realise I am in the worldly world.
Thus exists the world, my mind tells;
There exists the eternity, my heart tells;
I fail to choose my real master,
I am really a failure,
I am really a slave.

Oh! Almighty,
if Heaven exists,
Could you hear me?
Could you see me ?
Could you remember me?
Could you help me?
Have you forgotten my faith in you?
The throne of my destiny, I beg from you
The throne of her destiny, I pray for my angel.

No courage, I have to meet my first angel
But,
as long as my pen lives
and
my midnight lamp burns,
In the mid of every night,
always,
I remember the face of my first angel.


"My First Angel" was composed "suddenly" in the midnight of 6th July , 2008. This poem was webcasted on April 16, 2008.




"My little Valentine"


Many autumns , I have lived;
those falling leaves , I have seen.
Many nights , I have passed;
with rolling tears , I have slept.
Many deserts , I have walked;
with thirsty mouth , I have gone.
Many oceans , I have crossed;
with unseen island , I have sailed.
Many days , I have pledged;
with weak destiny , I have compromised.
Many humans , I have met;
for little care , I have left.
Many dreams , I have thought;
for undiscovered reality , I have shattered.
Many moments , I have felt;
with foolish emotions , I have cried.
Many a times , I have tried;
but all the time , I have failed to undo my tears
shed on my own shadow in moonlight.
For me , King Bruce may die.


Strangely ,
a voice whispers heartily ,
I realise memorably ,
I ink
and
console my heart
to welcome the dawn of my life.

From the Mediterranean sea , my breeze comes;
through the window , my sunlight falls;
to quench the thirst , my rain drops;
to reach the end , my shore exists;
to accomplish the promises , my star shines;
to fill the gap , my soul arrives;
to discover the path ,my Shepherd leads;
to feel the life , my heart empowers
and
to conquer the world , my success knocks at the door of my hut.


The Pharoah of Egypt , I am not
The Prince of Rome , I am not
Neither as strong as Spartan I am nor am I as learned as Athenian.

So small , I have become like a beggar in front of the Buckingham Palace;
So graceful , you are like a princess of the pure royal blood;
So elegantly beautiful , so preciously sweet
the Cleopatra of my life , you are
the north star of my voyage , you are.

Alas ,
No gift , I can give other than my long cherised tears of joy,
that you , my soul only have brought;
No gift , I can give as long as my begging bowl is with me.
As beggar has no choice,
no choice , I have in front of the princess;


As the royal beauty never dies,
and always ,
I desire to be with my true angel;
O ! Father in Heaven ,
May my little Valentine remain immortal
as long as this Universe lives
May my true angel remain holy
as long as that Heaven lives.


"My little valentine" - As the midnight clock strikes, the first ever poem written with joy was started at 11:45 pm (IST) and ended at 2:05 am (IST) 13th Feb. 2009 on a Friday. This poem was webcasted on April 16, 2008.