Chance… I Want It !

by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Chinmay Singh on

dreaming for a chance

anticipating for it

waiting to land on the palm

but didn’t come

maybe it needs a little prayer

that will emanate from the heart

deep enough to commence and claim

I Want It !…


Dawn of Change

by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Yogendra Singh on

I see an empty bottle floating
One of the many odds and ends
Thrown away without sense of care
Thoughts bothered with decaying fragments

Disconcerted venting the anguish
For a cleaner place unmindful folks don’t heed
Unpolluted and spotless dream is just a wish
Left me screaming my nights to be merited

In a sea of garbage survival is the question
To gain next to us is the next generation
So get the dawn of change an early birth
Cleanliness is a must to save our planet earth…

We can hang on…

by : Bacardi Gold

Sunshine, sunshine, bring out the day’s smile
bury the pouting lips for a while
entomb the sadness on your face
and fasten some joy to take its place

Gather some vigor and plant some glee
enliven your eyes to a certain degree
lift those muscles in your face to show
forget the misery let your heart’s bliss to glow

Gloom always come and often takes its toll
one moment we’re happy, next the blue is on call
it’s always a see-saw how our lives go on
for there’s always a god that we can hang on…

Angel from Hell…

by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Hugo Ceneviva on

Staring from the window of the soul
the eyes of the eagle pricked the heart
dark liquid from the frail unknown body
came rushing out from the eternal truth of pain
Listening from the door of the spirit
the beak of the beacon light dredged out the unexposed
clear senses from the familiar matter
came running in to the deepest lies of relief
Talking loud on the podium of pretense
twisted tongue of the brutal frame of the mind
came lashing out with sharp swords of discourse
pounding the nerves of the foes with heavy pins
Claiming like a victor but bleeds with hateful wounds
heart was yelling , crying and clashed
against the bluffing thoughts
they knew he’s an angel from hell…


by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Sebastiaan Stam on

I can only see you in the night
but you’re not the smoke of the slumberland
that emerges in between the deep of the dark and the lights of dawn

you change faces
but you’re not wearing any powders of colors
only expressions of the heart

you move in different directions
but you’re not the wind
that blows strong and becomes the day’s storm with dangerous character

you become a soldier of your faith
who encourages crowds of non-believers to worship a god
and becomes the first to disobey your god’s teachings and beliefs

who are you
you’re a nameless hero of your time
who comes into view in the modern world of man

tonight i’ll be waiting for you
not in my dreams
not in reality
not in your own truth

your appearance is my want
to embrace the whole of me
and be myself in the vastness of space
’till i return from the perfumed froth of brew…


by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Bianca on

this season’s interlude
of freezing morning spell
awaiting the emerging sun
to paint the sky with colors

the dawn deserves a twilight
chasing a familiar night
waiting to spend a sunny morning
where cold hearts will be warmed

feathered clouds in colored haze
teased the moment with uncertainty
an hour of a pleasant sky hides
sad tears of a bereaved comedy …


by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Sharefaith on

i am a stranger
an intruder of myself
i have become an alien
to my dawned habits
an immigrant of my dreams

In the nights of my growth
one barely knew me
i became a wanderer
in the palace of my soul
under a different roof

the ages drag me through
in the shelter of saints
where prayers became foods
in every meals of sinners
named me the guest of squatters

no longer a stranger
in the company of reformed
a drifter with wings
ready to take the merits of dignity
i am a resident of my own self…


Birds of different kinds
Clothed in feathers of colors
Layers after layers

Can be thick or thin

Feather quills are derived
On empty paper to write
In the olden days of poets
Inked on books inscribed

Thin feather always floats
Where the air’s direction it goes
And when the breeze is unmanned
The feather is destined to land


by : Bacardi Gold

ᵃ̳ᵏ̳ˢ̳ʰ̳ ̳ⁿ̳ᵒ̳ᵒ̳ʳ̳

Your eyes can see the colors
and the shades of your life
As they walk the journeys
of the days and nights
The advent of the coming storm
and the promises of spring
Colors are awaiting to form
your best decisions could bring…

image from Pinterest