On a temporary dusk,
The sun may bleed but not die.
On a fight between angels & demons,
None of the spirits sigh.
A cucumber moon melts on a dawn,
And become a bodiless beauty.
It will fall in the arms of the river bed,
Re-unite with earth on its divine duty.
A brighter sun re-appears one gay morning,
It’s timeless journey to death cave.
Another world turns around,
Life & death altogether spun on a magical wave.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
My lovely volley ball
Shattered your panes
Like an action hero
That kills spoilage
Dawn downs from death
To open the file of life
As if it was an owl
Blinded by the light of darkness
A slash from your lashes
Build me this real Lear
A hero is killed forever
You hit a very bad dab.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 8:01 AM UTC
Those lips did smoke from within
Very hot air to **** any kind of love
Like prosperous balloons they rip apart
One in crime without being hurt.
I call them Jamaican waves of love
That made the lovers in their jovial frolly
After all one bears the heat above
Slipping all throughout in jolly.
Let me die in your lips when we war
So far so they can pull my heart
In my conquest of your polite lips
I give it a **** if they are ****
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 7:01 AM UTC
They were climbing up the hill
Pearl beads were made from their sweats
Rolling down like a clean stream;
One which works hard all throughout
And their realm so intent of their beads
They were inseparable from their film.
More and more my vision focused
I could identify them and their needs.
All were different but me travelling times;
When times met as dense as clouds
Before they melt all into one and join the stream
Once again to pick up the beads that had fallen.
The moments came to capture the beads
So that the nerves wretched to the extreme
Along with a sudden **** the dream evaporated;
Leaving behind a few of them to form pixels
That made an image of the present time
Ah it was all timeless in my last night sleep!
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 9:36 AM UTC
Like Henry I swayed my sword upon
White pages but dark without wisdom
Attacking the palace of Palestine
And contravening the head of the bishop
I crowned myself the unborn emperor.
I rode the chariot of the sun
The moon being my abstract driver
Drawing out stars into constellation of demons
So that I can chalk them out one new moon night
And become the marshal of Constantine laws.
Here on my pages I made god’s descend
Make love to live forms like never before
I have solved the mysteries before and after birth
But nothing is reinvented and remained as they were
Not buried this time but surfacing like clouds that will rain.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 6:33 AM UTC
There is a sense of profound grief and joy
blended in the much awaited rain drops,
the moment they escape from the cloud-hills.
As if they have waited for years of freedom
and those years have been slow and fast,
eluding glory from the tiny soldiers marching
towards death in the pit of the thirsty hell.
In the kingdom of Cloud-hills they were gods
of divine evolution waiting for a supreme order,
to re-unite with the earth’s crust into matter-
tiny beads of light, happiness, love.
So they kiss the grass, fix the butterflies,
Wets the soil to become fertile like the mother’s womb-
And then die gradually for another birth.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 5:50 AM UTC
When an army of congruent efforts
Hide away the blurs of truth for smile
And paints mischief like never before
A community of applause is born.
Same jargon of satires where I left last time
They stand like shameless souls weaker enough
And lose their naked counterparts which became bold
Enough to paint their skins and garden their hairs.
The beginning of the body as geometric machines
To demonstrate humankind rather than mankind
And *** equally splits into male, female, gay, lesbian
Spoiling the colors of your beautiful rainbow into one.
Where opinions vary and similes carry
But **** facts are sincerely presented
To carry a soul into our very build world
Welcome to the world of fashion & fashionistas.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 7:42 AM UTC
They mean it with lingerie
or almost **** hanging *****
almost strolling out from within
as if they deny the prison there
that beholds and preserves conspiracy.
Chiffon bits glued to buttered butts
that dwindles either ways without
any declaration of war from each side
and only sensitive enough to react upon
high pencil edged sharp heels point touched.
They mean deep well navels crowned with
meaningless metal caps in place of ear rings
and their shameless faces dressed with colors
so much difficult to understand the brands
they represent each such pastel that robs them.
To further de-glamourise their stupid animosity
sudden malfunctioning of their bra-straps
or accidental slippage of intended tight gowns
making foolish gays popular and millionaires-
these models evidenced their killers via sharp nails.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 7:39 AM UTC
Living in your dreams,
Come true-
I only say,
I love you!
You fancied your palace,
Of yellow roses-
I plucked them,
For your medley dozes,
And you sank in my,
Boat of love…
Abyss, abyss,
And abyss,
Where darkness,
Nowhere exists,
My faith kindled,
Your heart-
Your breath,
Dwindled me ****
Living in your dreams,
Come true-
I only say,
I love you!
Feb 14, 2011
Feb 14, 2011 at 1:25 AM UTC
Her twig-
A ferocious goblet of fire,
That once burned my desire,
In the tiny blemishes that bled.
Her tears-
Reacted like nitric acid,
Corroding our fake homes pallid,
That soaked every smoke between souls.
Her ****
Became the chalice of profuse disease,
That kept me away from natural release,
Like some yellow lady in Connecticut*.
Yellow Lady in Connecticut- A rare wild flower in that region
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 1:03 AM UTC