Lemonade,I thought for a moment

No I cant

An immature taste bud`s attempt

No,was the order by my doctor

Citrus juice oozed out

When squeezed, from its wedge

Scent,so tarty spread all around

I looked in despair into their glasses

Where ice cubes floated lazily

And sweating in its own chill

Cloudy looks tempting me

Sir u want,Its chilled

A question came putting me in a dilema

Taste buds including the mature ones

Started buzzing and fizzing

Utter chaos inside

Eyes and nose also joined them

Keeping me fixed on to those glasses

Sudden thirst and time moving in slow motion

A decision was there to be made

Alas!Someone has won

My senses or my own senses

I am not telling you who won

Because no matter who wins

Taste or health,I will lose one of them

So in the end,I am the loser..

----Kris

When world is gifting you a testimonial symphony
In the crowd behind you I am standing with a viola
Playing my sonata amid base and Cellos
Even when master is playing heavenly rhythms
I am playing the notes I ve always failed to string
A last resort hoping you will turn around
Listening to a musician in vain

I kept on finding excuses and reasons
Never let my fingers free on to those strings
I lay playing those melodies that kept you smiling
Never let your eyes wet with blue melodie
When I stood on those musicals with my little viola
Never thought one day I ll end up like this

I failed to see your eyes among burst of laughter
And kept on singing old fiddle country songs
I was nervous with my own composition
Mere thoughts of your smiles fading
Kept me playing ones you liked until now

Even when master is playing ethereal rhythms
I am playing my own notes
Hoping for a rhythmic Illusion
And you will turn around
To see a musician,not a mere fiddler
Who kept on playing empty love songs
Now playing with his heart with passion......

---Kris

Shyness in those crystalline eyes

And impatience in anticipation

A drop of anger,with silent flow of tears

Those eyes wait for signs of love

Kept me awake through the moonson

And kept me silent in the downpour

Anguish evident in those eyes

Made me feel the pain of unending wait

Sympathy towards those tearlets

And those crystal blue eyes kept me awake

Those eyes had signs of losing its verve

Yet kept asking questions

Where I stood self lovingly silent

As I didnt want to see those blue crystals snivel

Which made me gaze at its chilling spark

When hhose eyes called for help and support

Even then my ego kept me silent from the truth

Those eyes never wept in despair

Hoping one day it will see signs of love

But kept me awake through seasons and seasons.....

---Kris

The lights went on and curtain went off

Moments passed with violin tunes

Subtle change in emotions and expressions

All in front of my very own eyes in flashes

His loud anger and sudden outbursts

And her wet eyes and unending despairs

With blue shades of light and silence

Symphonies so common,yet left me touched

As she lay on the prairies praising new moon

Unheard poertry,yet left me touched

As the play explored new plains and land

I flet his arrogance painful and anger too

Sympathy towards her crept in

But I am helpless,a mere audience

The curtain fell with a slow suddeness

Leaving me no option than to leave

But now even more confused and helpless

Than when I lived with them,

Realisation of selflessness and love

Shattered my ego and myself

Ashamed or apologetic,I am confused

As I took steps down,even beneath myself

For them its a play and they do play it well

And for them the show will go on

For me Its already curtains

Leaving me alone and nothing to show...

---Kris

Its a broken wooden chair

Made centuries back

It has seen laughing angels

Crying devils too

It broke its back leg

And a cracked its seat too

Dont Sit on that wooden chair

Its broken,centuries ago

Broke wen it saw devil laugh

And crying angles too

People sat on it,played piano

Nobody listened to its weep

It cried and asked for help

All listened to the symphonies

No one listened to help

Lords sat on it, and dukes too

Neither saw the crack in the leg

Ministers came,peoples representatives

Decades past still noone came for help

History talk about leaders and greats

None of them saw the crack in the leg

One day chair broke its leg

When laughing devil sat on it

Crying angles left its seat

Seat too started cracking like the leg

Dont sit on that wooden chair Its broken..

Waiting for a hero to fix it

Till then its a broken chair..

.---Kris