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On this sailing smooth river
the sailing wind makes me shiver.
The shiver is not that of cold
but because I am growing old.
Old and few hours to die
still sailing on this life's high.
These highs push me for another high
and some downs at times, make me cry.
Cries remind me of your face
which is still so full of grace.
A grace I can't see now with poor eyes,
and you're hidden somewhere in disguise.
Disguised is still not my pounding hearbeat
which I hear, and now I fasten my fleet.
This fleet flows faster and faster
as our lives become fainter and fainter.
Faintly, I can see you writing something
as I reach by your spot, fainting.
Fainting, I try to say but I couldn't say
I stand up, fall on water, drowning away.
Away at  a distance, you see me and jump by
We both meet and drown in river; now our souls fly.

Death

Death

My chilly plant withers away.

In this cold, she shivers away -

with disdain look at her father,

for I forgot to sprinkle some water.

She used to love me a lot -

a gift I never shove a thought.

And now it's too late to repent,

for she is falling down a descent.

She's gone.

Alone in this dark night,

I miss her stark sight.

Now, I feel dis-enchanted

never take a gift for granted.

Identity

The soul of George Floyd

is not at a peace yet.

Like a tornado, it's a void:
it's not just a protest.

This void viralling the world,
swaying all of us mentally,
leaves a question yet unfurled -

what exactly is an identity ? 

To use this viral void,
to distill nature of identity,

we fill it with three traits:
an eye, a brain, and a heart.

An eye of child with wonder:
looking at dog and humans alike.

A brain with sheer scientific saber:

grappling with facts, trials, and testing.

A heart of a profound philosopher:

feeling deep expanse of epistemology.

This void, first, goes to ants
to gape at a distance

and finds a smooth trail -
identity looks fuzzy.
As it peeks closer,
each ant is palpable 

an ant is the ant -

identity is distinctive.

Over a scale of years,
worker ants die within one to three
and queen ant lives upto thirty -
identity could be short or long lived.
Queen ants outlive workers,
thanks to their gene expression
which repairs DNA damage -
identity stays with (genetic) power.

Then the void goes to grass to find

few communal or solitary bunches,
flourishing in Sun or hidden in soil  -

identity stays with those who are exposed.

Then the void goes to air to find
air molecules shaking the bridges away,
or spreading the scent of your beloved -

identity is mapping of an entity to another.

Aliens don't exist unless they map on us.

When something maps on us, it has identity.

If something has identity, it is an identity.
This identity is singular, special, venerable.

Identities of entities are same, when entities are same.

Ascribing one's identity to another is as illogical as
ascribing shape of clouds to horses and humans.
Mistaking one with another is as stupid as
mistaking a fire in burner with nulcear explosion.

May Floyd's soul rest in peace,
and this void teaches a lesson
to identify everyone uniquely,
to believe that humanity is
a necklace of billion pearls
all threaded through this void:
unique yet sharing a common soul,
to retrieve emotions without words,
and share this message for entirety!

% The void is going to be my marker (of heart-brain-eyes) to philosophically-scientifically-emotionally answer the question of identity. Not using any nice poetic element in this poem is signifying how less passionate and inhuman I was while writing this poem. Poetry is stupid act to me unless my heart ache and beat when I write. It didn't here. Originally, I had thought of writing the poem on Identity but after the incident I thought that I can merge it with a topical issue. It turns out that NO - I can't do that and sensationalise a truthful act such a poetry with social topics I'm not deeply (to the extent that nothing means more to me at the time of writing than what I am writing) passionate about. 

When I was writing this poem, my plan was to finish it by 5 PM to get back to my research. If you start thinking about time when doing something supposedly truthful, then it is as false as 1=2.