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 Fuel is Not the Flame

Fuel Is Not The Flame is a poem written by Anuj Nair. It is a Picture poem / Photo poem.

Fuel is Not the Flame

"Dear one, don't you like

your darling ? Kindly speak

Think of our yesterdays,

Eskimo kisses and impish plays


Our moments together

Was truely sweet all through

O ! I recall those days of joy

Why you stay aloof, growing shy ?


Hey ! Why is this change

In your looks, you seem to range,

All your thoughts in a strange,

I think, mysterious trench."

"No mystery dude ! my mind

is not of an enigmatic kind

You have known me well enough

from long past, a poor stuff.


Leave me now, don't try to capture

With your flirty words anymore

As you did with me before

In your usual ways of cajolery.


Though weak and fragile

As you men describe all agile,

Smart and trustworthy female,

No more wish I to partake in your sail.

I know men, young and old

Are all alike, of one mould;

Equally conceited and bold

In their ways to gain and hold.

To lure poor women

With their fake affection

And fabulous description

of their beauty, a subversion.


Above all, man's judgement

Propaganda and comment

About women as fragile and weak

As born dependent and meek.


Who can stand their orgy

And tread that path craggy

As he transcends often and on

Barriers of morality known


O! insidiousness of man !

His beastly pursuits inhuman

Shown in his gestures, lovely

Promises are all pretentions only


No woman of honor and sanity

Not even the gullible one

Would dare to fall in love

With the so called man even for fun."

Lend an ear dear fellow souls

Mere mortal bodies with myriad goals

The senses portray divergent views

As perceptions screened on the mind


Love is often mistaken,

for love of objects the body need,

need of subjects for the mind to feed,

the 'feed' to satiate your greed.


Infatuations, fleeting passions

out of lustful fascinations

Distressing crave to yearn

what that you wish to own


Make one seek selfish means

Heedless of other's pains

Treachery with a smile

ditch with utter spite


Love is not to blame

fuel is not the flame

In the raving fire

As in every pyre

Burns the sandal logs

along with the corpse

© 2017 Anuj Nair.
All rights reserved.

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