you dwell in my sight like yesterdays
your voice is a melody upon my mind
your gaze snows upon my heart

melting me each moment
is your warmth, so unknown rather forgotten
i had turned into a rock long back

you swell in my heart like a dear wish
your smile streams in my blood like some drug
your touch still tickles deep into my skin

freezing me every once in a while
are your memories, so indestructible in form
i had no refuge to survive by, otherwise

there is another big world I keep

in the small space of my room;

my dreams tucked by board pins,

some letters stashed by paper clips,

notes of joy, laughter, little sadness

inside the yellow-turned diary pages,

some secret souvenirs of good time

kept neatly hidden in my wardrobe,

few oblivious scribbles on window pane,

old leaf, dry roses, ink, wall art, gadgets,

glad that I have taken care of them

always, like cherished treasures of mine.

the bright and the dark equally welcome,

wind and whispers settle swiftly in moonlight,

by my bedside, where many stories sit,

which I read or heard many many times.

whistles from some star ruffle my hair,

remind me of the times of love and talks,

I look out of the window, into the open,

where vivid memories glitter in the sky.

ONE day,

a log
said to the bog,

"you're all mud
and you ever survive,
i am all wood
but i always die."

the bog spoke,
after a long sigh,
"it is transformation,
which you deny.

I turn into nothing but soil,
when it is too hard to toil.
the sun smokes up all water,
i become a happy crater.

then comes by, the rain,
fills my bowl once again.
i see wild weeds,
some dormant seeds.
water lilies, papyrus, mangroves,
are all that come to me and grow.
i laugh with them, they sing with me,
castaway afar, but glad are we.
together we live and fear not fate,
that is how i live ahead!"

Long back once
I was a God
I painted some lovely birds
on the greenest trees
which stood by the most beautiful river
that had vivacious flowers
all along its grassy banks
I brought all this to life

people saw all of it and admired
then they thought it'd be
the sweetest, purest water
and they built a bottling plant by riverside
as if their thirst was deep rather than large
they plucked flowers and adorned houses
as if their paints were not bright enough,
they brought flowers to weddings and parties too
as if the mood and purpose were never up to mark,
they caught the birds and put them into cages
as if their free wings made people resent own servitude
they cut down trees to make skyscrapers
as if their life spans were ever eternal

and when they distorted whatever was all my hard work
they came with gloated hearts to temples and churches
they sang glorious hymns and offered construed prayers,
and in almost a state of self-praise they told me how noble I was
for I endowed them with capabilities none could ever fathom

if I ever were a banyan
I would have soared high
enough into the blue sky
higher than any proud eucalyptus
grounded stronger than any other root
heavier than one hundred elephants
I would have grown upward
not in meters, but a couple of miles
too outreaching and lofty for men
for that might have been one reason
for nobody to chop my trunk
for no bird to ever become homeless
for then, men would've sensed and feared
the grand weight of my life

On the busiest of days,
even prettiest of faces,
can sulk into nothingness.

Where is the smile
she used to have,
at the time when it all started.

Reassurance is gone,
And so is self-belief,
I might ask, 'what you did?'

Look back, you would find a way,
look back, if you want,
for pearls often are left behind.

During those hurried hours
of the flight to well-being,
when you race past everything,

Surging on like unceasing greed,
you outstrip your own noble deeds;
look back,
for pearls often are left behind.

Bliss
lives
at
one
furlong
from
me.
My
neighbors
are
anemones,
am­aryllises,
roses,
lilies.

i see the neutral colors,
they sing not of glory,
they brag not over history.

there is no mischief in their eyes;
nor any hostility for what they are not,
but they do speak,
through various petals of flowers
and many shapes of dream-making,
through my walls and bricks
of heart or cement.

on how many days, here,
did i bring thee the joy,
where upon i shall rest
in peace and auburn sunshine?

help me with no more promises,
but, bring me a man of truth.
i see not any relief
for my shattered self-belief.
i kiss my destiny and attempt
to move on a path underlined.

i spun a magic
and kept it in a round box,
the box made of dew.
look closer,
you would see
each curvy bent
is a smile,
the magic of lips,
the tickler of eyes.
when the dew is done,
its imprints would remain
and every round drop
every elliptical trickle
would remind you
of my smile.
that's the actual magic.

dad never scolded the butterfly
which wandered all around all time
he never complained to the birds
why they chirped about, strolled high
he never flanked these guys as he did to me,

i wish, instead of books to study,
i had those wings to flee!

some poems,
they are not metaphors
they are not similes
nor they are alliterations
some poems are emotions
simple, pure emotions
they trickle in one clear line
like a sincere tear drop
whose single strength
finds the road ahead
to console the weeping heart,
to remedy the ailing soul
some poems are just emotions
they just flow inside along the veins
to touch each single cell and tissue
to caress the body with wanting warmth

Drips from my face, molten soul
About to die and fall, on the altar.
Is this the life you said'd be noble?
So painful, and just too much pain?

No body to heal, no body to feel,
The torment, the ache, the anguish.
Ah, its hurts like a snake too gruesome,
Ripped apart I am in eternal sorrow.

one song
one dance
one story
one chance

i sing in equal joy
i laugh in equal fun
each time in equal bliss
i wonder in equal pun

here is
the day borne
on sleeves
of my heart!

the words fluttered,
swung, swept, swooshed,
bemoaned, bereaved, bedazzled,
leapt, lauded, littered,
hovered, heckled, hiccuped,

made U-turns, took deep dips,
underwent saucy somersaults,

played like notes,
acted like songs,
usurped as oaths,
humbled as prayers,
slaughtered as killers,

punctuated, presided, presumed,
abetted, adhered, attacked

while the paper endured all with love.

i am an ocean
you don't know all
you can break the brine
you can see underworld piscine
you can reach to the corals
and collect few shells, pearls
you can pump out petrol
but you don't know all
i am an ocean
you know what you see
but that's not all of me
i am more than tide
i am more than water
i am deepest secret
i am fullest crater
i spin clouds far away
i talk to the sun night and day
i tell rivers to move on
i am every mountain's dungeons
i am the currents of wind in summer
and the cold waves by the autumn fall
i am an ocean
you don't know all

let silence settle by my side today
else i'd again be driven
into the echo of her thoughts

into the unfinished talks
into the incomplete memories
into her interim proximity

i summoned her as she left
but it went unheard
renegades often turn deaf

let silence settle by my side today
else i'd again be driven
into the echo of her thoughts

i'd claim it elusive mischance
i'd profess on empty hope
i'd even bridle my despair

'one can ail to no avail,
nor tears'll bring respite!'
these were her last words FOR me

let silence settle by my side today
else i'd again be driven
into the echo of her thoughts

It was the usual tick-tock,
but it spun at a different time,
a time of merrymaking,
a time, of mirth & laughter,
of castles & soldiers,
of kings & folks,
of a princess very beautiful,
of a prince miles distant.

The clock was unmade,
but the sound was there,
of two hearts,
which beat as fast.

A story sprang forth
between the quiet intervals,
between the two far-aparts.

They wove a saga timeless,
and hence,
we are sitting across,
under this bonfire,
eager to know,
what love is like,
what makes its sound,
the tick-tock?

i can see
your soft footprints
in and around
the green, the yellow woods
and that blue turquoise
offering you a ride
fluttering his wings
the white, black, green birds
holding stars in their beaks
in clouds you can walk;
it makes me envious

so ingenuous you are
as ye know not,
a Pandora box
is just an allegory
for your own
fulgent eyes
for through string of hopes
and wave of dreams,
for upon cloud floors
and blinking realms,
when you take your walk,
the earth's dear lady,
the whole universe
wants to keek and see
the sparkling wonder
that originates upon your eyes,
such is the moment of
ecstasy that, let alone us,
even all non-human forms
realize from you,
and your concomitant smile,
what true joy looks like

how swiftly do they move
our differences, our moods
swinging apart our worlds
from where they originally stood

makes me rethink and re-know
how much do i really know
i feel shaken in my faith
there's nothing much to show

another day, another time
another speck of beleaguered mime
the swinging of our fates
from where we once stood.

So tickle them many squirrels
trees in the orchard have no choice,
but to fast ripen the fruits

Do not touch me,
I would burst off,
Into flecks of chagrin,
And delate your propinquity.

I am rain dropped,
On the greener grass,
And there I hang slackly,
Upon its trenchant blade.

I am betrayed by vagrant clouds,
Suspended from moving sky,
My abode is forsaken,
Taken away by winds.

Do not touch me, rather
I would embrace the soil,
Seep into pores and phloem,
Meet the river and rise again.

remind me again how wilting pain can prove to be
tell me things that my body had forgotten awhile
my simper has gone and so have my quips
there's just pain, a sea full of it, deep down
my armor a wreck and my senses diminished
i know the nobility is nothing more than wisp
i can look into the mirror and find surprise
the sincerest effort of a man is to just survive

(for Mae, our dear fellow poet. get well soon.)

One day someone asked me a question,
'why not just have fun and live happily?'
I said, 'because that would be selfish.'
He replied, 'everyone is selfish.'
I sighed.

That night, I slept as I always have
In the morning, the sun came out
looked around with a docile stance
he carried in him ember and fire
for some reason

The world was cold and thawed
the chill swept the earth all night
no body sang, no body spoke
no body was awake against the frost
the sun saw it all

Millions of bodies, even rocks and trees
Suckled on its warmth like its babies,
slowly opening their eyes to the morning,
coming awake as the heat kicked out
the numbness of night

The sun burnt its heart to produce
more and more fire for the world,
for many more tomorrows that he had
to tend to, for all that was sought by all
was his ardor

Sometimes, when the sun's heart ails
with its own searing burns and blues,
the blue ocean sends across to it, its coolest
wave, from the deepest corners of its heart,
borne on a zephyr

But oh, the burning world, under the fervency
of its own desires, seizes with excuses each
little effort the ocean puts forth, no consolation
ever reaches the sun, for those who it lives for,
need ever more

Each wind that passes by is never enough
for a world that is more esurient than destitute
all steal from the sun more than they need
all rob the breeze of its soothing touch
and the world lives on

He had a rugged face
that held forth
an insolent attitude.

He cursed under each breath,
and denied life its reverence,
on more than one occasion.

So, when he cried,
no body cared,
no body even looked enough.

For if they had,
they could see
his wounded heart

That was struck
by a bullet
and was bleeding him to death.

Because, he just had rescued
a young girl
from the local brothel.

Stains on his cloth,
were green and brown,
for he had helped her run
through the entire forest.

His name was unknown,
but even though
he was a stranger,
he resembled the brave,
represented the noblest,
the gone and the present,
who belonged to everyone.

it's a torched wind rushing into my arms
like a dreary pale leaf that wants an embrace
in dusty minuscules of sullen, sultry soil
i step out, open my heart to the sun-dried soul

glutinously holding back to me in sunk roars
the wind drinks every drop of my fluid state
i shiver in languor, i bear up with strength
and thus is revived the breeze everyday

reasons, i find them faltering
with their own ego,
some self destructive arguments
and many left aside repercussions

how would we survive,
their trifling stages and colluding rage?
and would the Content be able to contain
them under the shaky sky of our dispositions

how would things resolve themselves
how would everything that's out of order
restore itself precisely to where it belongs
for the typhoon knows only the change

for all the things that matter,
would prayers, good wishes, and our will
anymore matter to the effect of anything?
they too stagger sideways, here come reasons.

i am falling like a dream unharbored
my head is spinning with pain
all that i did for you all the time
did all that go just in vain?

sorry i feel for myself, at last
for the beliefs i clung to so far
now like a boat taking final plunge
i drown, upside down and afar

hear my silence
bring up
some words upstairs
i shall be waiting
there each night

seedlings these grow
the words
they are vines
holding on
to me and you
as do our dreams
they too ascend
into the blue sky
the moon won't
tell a thing
it is too lulled
into melodies
of words etched
over the dark pillars
and my mind is on you
and my emotions
oh, don't you remember
last time you took 'em
with you
saying you needed 'em
to weave your pearls of memoirs

hence, i'd be waiting
for your string of words,
upstairs, in silence indeed!

once,
a painter took his brush
but the canvas was too huge
and so was the task to portray

his hands trembled and he dropped
few drops of hues hither and thither
like stain and blemish they hung up

his heart saw the artist abashed
and beat harder and harder
more sad than dutiful

a question slid into the veins
tough task, dear ye?
not all can hold the brush

not all can paint the sun
not all have the eyes
that sees through the burns

dismayed at what he held in his hands
the ability to bring sunshine
on the blank face of canvas

the painter painted a world
a lovelier, better world,
for generations to inspire

although, the stain still hangs there
but it only reminds the onlookers
of what great hands held that brush
once

My trained mind
Had me seated
Or rather sedated
Under drudgery’s spell
I was nobody
I was a mob
I was a failing man
I was a rising chagrin
Day by day
Year after year
Unknowing and unaware
Of my real way
I followed the path
That all did
Nobody comes telling
You in your face
That you are a lost case
Nobody knows what
To say at all
It is rumpus everywhere
As music is unfound
So one day
The bird came
And sat by
My window pane
And sang aloud
Her freedom song
No god set me free
The bird did.

twice starts the day
for those who have
masks to change
roles to play
------------
no one knows
where it ends
the journey that begins
pure as spring
----------------
i won't mind a thing
if you so desire
but, it is my minding
that you did long admire
-----------
like anyone else
i'd be born to die
again and again
and over my sighs
-----------
who tells you
i can survive
what they don't know
i long back died
--------------------
believe not anymore
i am done with all
not a single hope
remains under my control
---------------------
there was no certainty
that death would come
until we broke few promises
until we betrayed some
-----------------------
my mind is fickle
conditioned into doom
but yours is no different
so certain our fates loom
-------------------------
i may be your first doubt
but i am my last fear
i am not willing to give up
what my soul is ready to bear
--------------------------

belongings never go away
staying is in their nature
sometimes though they change form
for they must, for their survival
     -----------------------------
distance would not matter
as long as you dwell in my sight
one journey would bring me back
from where i depart tonight
     --------------------------------
the ruckus would rise high
to echo through coming years
in memories hence retained
of childhood -- yours and mine

When I'd sail upon the moon boat,
I would think of all I have got,
An old dime in my left pocket,
In the right, one gifted locket,
umpteen shades of memory,
from my mind's secret brewery,
my palm drawn upside in space,
upon which once your hand you placed,
twinkling under fair, raining light,
all I have would come to sight,
another pocket, another thing,
a time-old letter that gave me wings,
what else do I do have,
nothing much I could save,
but yes, there's too, this crimson glow
which my heart refuses to show,
it used to unlock in someone's arms,
and I've lost those keys long ago.

half is the heart
that beats fast
until two halves
stop the time
and go slow

Each day
There is a sea of faces
Strangers walk along
And then away

Last day
Someone stole
The green of the leaf
Now it looks all pale

And Today
I no longer know
Whom to believe
All seems a dream

Newton was wrong about inertia
I know a moving cul-de-sac
A reckless storm of time,
Which i keep up my sleeve

was it you
who hung the pumpkin
in my yard?

who brought this
golden-yellow shadow
to my french window?

and inside this
round mushy pumpkin
is it you who glows?

drunk on fire
a firefly ignites black sheet
mystery unwraps

it all started this Monday
when no body wanted the Sun
nor anybody wanted the wind

the still is enough
to make us perspire
through our thoughts

inside us we all know
the freeze would rush in soon;
our emotions would look for warmer hearts

all hangs loose in the air
for this is no slumber
but feelings' comfort zone

October is here.

while i bloom in new shades each day
some old leaves wilt and wither away
some new buds *******, die all sudden
some old blooms fight until the ending

you may call me a living fallacy
but only i know what i churn
had it not been worth such pain
i would never've chosen to burn

C**ome to my terrace
i’d make coffee
and listen to you
While you pour
your emotions
into my heart’s cup
i’d keep it a secret;
all your pains
i’d wonder over your smiles
and look after the tears
i’d talk too
although little and slow
i’d tell you stories
that the sky conceals
i’d speak about
things i feel
we both know
life is hard
but i have heard
life cannot sustain
too much hardships either
so we two
deep in hurt
would laugh away sorrows
like two brave hearts
you can sing your song
i’d scribble my words
and years later
we’d smile on those
few moments such
we’d treasure in us
whenever on my terrace
the winter would come
i’d remember your face
in the warm sun
and the smell of coffee
would be high on my nerves.

COME, stand in utter rain
with utter joy
what looks wet is not you
nor the world
but a haiku

Come to spring fields
wrap yourself with the glistering glee
what starts a lulling glow within
is not your senses
but a haiku

Ride on the coolest wave in summer
traverse over the hottest stretches
what soothes the tropical world
is not a breezy saunter
but a haiku

Hang in mid-air like haze and trickle in awe
some things would thaw, some things would snow
what dances with the sun rays under the sky blue
is not the warmth of nature
but a haiku

rock-top greens
spilled is sunbeam around
gems abound

Irish dreams in blue eyed sleep,
Won’t last longer.
Purple wishes inside grayed walls,
Won’t live forever.

Your bohemian thoughts flare up;
Light this place with moonsome fling,
How do I survive
The sting of fate?

The more you glow,
The more you make me burn.
All the more your silence stays,
It twice becomes my clamour.

I understand
You’re killing me,
Playing god over my mortality,
But that’s just fine,
I never loved life either,
Until you showed me
How beautiful it is.

Alaskan chill within my heart’s alleys,
Won’t get any warmer
Until you deliver
One sharp blow to my soul.

I would be waiting
To get over,
Whatever I sought,
Whatever you taught.

O collector,
what adorns you
as jewels garnered
upon tender pickings
of beaded words
and knitted faith,

was once the pulse of my heart!

The last romance
Of the green leaf
Keeps it pecked
To the stem
for some last moments
In all waking memories
Of the long love
That the lost time
Once brought.

The last song
Of the green leaf
In half-raised emotion
Makes the plant half-cry
When it can just half-hug
Its near-gone resuscitator,
Though with twice the emotion
And a promise to live on
Without any grief.

I am no desire
I am no wish
but courage

do not muddle me
with mind's tricks
or petty strife

i am no slave
but a king
the ever-giving breed

bring to me
no pity
i am brave

come to me
with your smiles
with your tears

both are my treasures
the very emblem
of true strength

not all can laugh
not all can cry
don't you know?

i can just ever be there
silently, as if i was
never ever there

but i do beat,
pause and beat
nothing else does so

but i do, to remind you
of the unfailing promise
of a heartbeat to you

do not dwell
in your mind's cave
but in your heart's nest

it is fragile
but it is whence
love originates

the nest of your heart
that is made up
of frail feelings

meek memories
effervescent emotions
and elements of life

it is me,
your tender heart, whence
the brave you came

i am the mirror

i show you
that all
that you cling to
so adamantly
so possessively
so blindly
so seriously,

i also keep within
things you abandoned
things you forgot
things you overlooked

you cannot even touch
nor you can own

i can recast and rebuild
in microseconds
all that you create
in years and years

because i can let it go
when needed
when something else
is my fate

i follow my destiny
and become
what i am asked
to be

so many worlds
i have seen
and nothing
stays, believe me

you laugh i am a mere reflection
and i smile that your reality is so fickle

see beyond
what i show
i have seen
the future, too

i am the mirror

i was a great will
and a brave heart
i was a real hero
and a rejoicing hart
i was a noble soul
and a belief strong
i was a lively mind
and a love song

until i saw the malice
that was in their sighs
until i saw the hatred
that was in their eyes
until they despised
for all that i was
and grew jealous of me
with loathsome laughs

who I am
i don't now know
my original faith
or their empty sorrow

no body looks beyond
the girth of contentment,
where life hides its emotions

where an always closed door
and an always open window
keep awaiting a true heart