‘Alarm’ing!

I hate him –
the rigid precisionist
who axed the climax
of my thriller dream.

I tried feigning sleep
but the unkindest cut
was too loud, fatal,
leaving me ‘clueless’!

Now who will tell me
what happened to me
after I came out of
the palace-cum-barn-cum-mountain?

 

 

 

 

Creativity

They trickle in
Slowly, silently…

I can see them
On my eyelid screens,
I can almost touch them.

They undulate
In all forms and shapes,
A hundred designs unique,
Ideas unimagined,
Melodies unvoiced .

Momentarily I even feel
They are mine!
Then I must be a genius!

They drift and soar
As I sink down
Into the depths
Of peaceful sleep.

By morning no trace left
And I seek them, in vain,
In the maze of my brain.

Now I know what makes
A genius a genius!