I find a new pair of eyes
In my soul
And mind, everyday
Depends on how you look

When I write on pages
Meant for me
It is with today's ink
And tomorrow's pity
That I write about yesterday
It is just a collection of days now
Called Dear Diary
Because the walls have ears
At least after many tomorrows, they will
I jot pithy sayings in an effort
Less is more and more or less, the bedrock is made
For thought cannot be excavated
Reasoning cannot be forced
Only what is excavated is forced out
Within the same ground of memory
I keep my personal belongings
"I must not forget my suitcase."
It has my diary, the walls shall never tear

I felt her in my body
She knew my true side
That's why I knew what
I had to write
In my heart
Where she never looked
Before, that's when I became a mystery

She said I had flair
I stared at her hair
In those street lamps
That signalled my distress
As a stranger in green rivers
I had witnessed someone so blue
Who was willing to turn herself into
Blue in green
By jumping over the moon
That's when I met her in school
She took paint in second grade
I loved in an instant
It was the fire so pure
She watered her colors
I saw gold in her palette
Never had I seen such beauty in flesh
She had painted a portrait
However, I wanted a sketch just the same
She layered the colourless paper with her mind
It looked a lot like me when I saw her
In the water

I remember the day when I made circles in the air
I met a mystic of great ability, unprepared
He held faith by his side like a gold sack and stared
I never saw him disbelieving himself
Such was the conviction of this grand ghost who I delved in
Quite old, and well into his sixties and svelte
He was intrigued by my quixotic attitude and black hat
Such were the quirks that almost intertwined with his gloved fingers
As if lust would never enter my life and never genuflected to authority
Or demeaned those who authorised his beastly aura
It was pure and raw fascination for his wild and untamed penumbra
His spells hung like a shadow over his temple of flowing silver hair, tempered by discipline and old age
The clairvoyant had taught magic and plenary concepts to whoever wished an entry to the Dark Arts
To everyone who lusted for power
He simply aroused a perfect quantity of interest in me by the hour

I looked for inspiration
For so long, when you
Arrived, I had none left

It was a little country in the North
For the both of us
I still remember us children screaming
As we ran across the wheat fields
Feeling invincible

In this one spot, green grass once sprouted
Sand, now, runs instead
No more solitary sticks and stone of my childhood
The tailored sky once reminded me of what was life like

Now, that same fabric of memory circles in my mind, slowly
Like a stream evicted from dry land
Almost, similar to a friend recounting her pain
Knowing she would never see the place restored, again
The books that had Rumi, know only the loss of love

Wondering where the streets
Walk through the night
Lost on a freeway
I hope the journey is right
I think this must be a lane along a sign
Hidden by the starlight and rain
Volleying my car through the road
I can't sleep with being uncertain
The cold moon is lost in translation
That shade of paleness touches me too
As I wander under the stellar sky
Three times, I text you,"I don't know.'
There won't be a fourth one
Since, your heart is printed in my heart
Like today being the backdrop for tomorrow's anticipation
My feet hardly leave your doorstep
My mind turns and turrets
Lost in translation
I wonder what splits the night
Into dreams and nightmares
Is it being lost in translation?
...love is a daydream I sleep on

The ocean gently stirs
Fish
Like the sky
Stirs cigarette smoke

If I broke my heart
You'd still
Slip through the cracks left

Why do you look so quaint
As you steal the night from me
The life slowly dies and loses heat
When I see the heart of light stir into silence
Soon I shall resume to waste my time
On your intelligent face
As I learn about your foolish pride
When you barely caress my skin
I want to drape your hair like linen
Over our dichotomy of physique and electric ethos
As I lay on the softness of your blanketed body
Which covers me in smooth folds
And flutters in the wind
I love the fools instead of wise men
But, you tell me that isn't love
It's your pride, instead
You're the best thing about love
If it broke my heart

Where the beads
Hang
From a neck, is a piece of mind

I was in loneliness
Like a fish swimming in an ocean
Only looking for other fish in a solitary ocean
To me everyone is different
When they are together
In the rounds of this blue world
Where the tint of the sky
Callously hangs over the cloud
You can touch the firmament of the diamond sky
As long as you can hold your ground
In your lonely air

She was a beauty queen
Straight out of a movie scene
Her scarves draped her closet
The things she owned
Owned her just the same
All of her shoes were just as she left them
You can see a feline cat cross the lines
You can see the blind man fill his boots with dimes
Naked as the lady without her boots
She was as pure as a plastic bag that flew
In the thin blue over the shore
Now, she has lost her world
She was my world and dreams
That try to touch the Sun and get cut
Like a kite in the breeze

If you can leave
Everything, then
You are really somethin'

My mind is awake
At night
Because it worries
How your day was
Thus, my heart does not rest

In between a strait
I noticed a strange man's gait
With a pointed hat and robe 'round his waist
As he walked, he feared being alone
Till some days ago, he was followed
I never looked at that man, so forlorn

The rivers whispered
House gates fluttered
I hoped a stone had turned
There would be one or two unstirred
When my heart as heavy as wet sand
Would sink when I saw his glasses or cane
Till his last footprint on the silt told me
I'd never see him again

If dreams are made
Of many hours of sleeping
Then, why do the seconds
I spend with you, feel like hours
As I gaze upon the ceiling
Thinking about the dreams
We have shared in this hideaway
Maybe, the thought of you
Keeps me wide awake and safe

If love was
A feeling
Everyone would know freedom
Hate is what holds us in chains
Love holds us together
Free to spread love

When you laugh
I laugh gladly
If you cry
I cry quite a bit
When you left me
I didn't know whether to
Laugh or cry

Why do I remember
How your hair smells
Yet, forget your name
After a breakup

All of the days when the skies
Are soft and cloudy
The night like trees
Grow high up above
And when the rain falls down
I seem to be lonely
Thinking of love and compassion
The day falls in line with the heart
At the end of the rope
There is a tire hanging
A sleeping man lulls in a hammock
Peace is easy and creeps in suddenly
My life is a sum of my lows
In the highest places
There is only the darkness
That carries me
I always wondered what destitution is
Or where I would be
If my life would be a lonely road
In the heartbreak, you'd be passing by
Crossing my heart, till I hope to die

My lover
It's now or never
If you are a cheater

So, I ask myself
The trees cast lonely shadows
The fish stay in the seas only

So, why should I stay
If you keep leaving
Thinking next time is forever

If you believe
In yourself
Flip a coin

Stay out of jail
If it says heads
You're dead

If it says tails
You have made it
You made bail

Flip the coin again
Because the world don't give chances to cons
Jail is safe

His college years were coming to a close
Soon, he became aware of Mrs. Christian
The wife of the headmaster
A German woman with hips luxuriously hanging
Her stomach was slightly loose
But, so were her *******
Yet, she carried them with confidence

He noticed her soon enough
One day, he broke his arm on the field
Mrs. Christian brought to him his meals
Nursed him as she sat on his leg
He could feel his ******* grow
As her *** warmed on the sheets
Yet, such warmth was platonic, still

Sometime later, he stood in the corridor
She asked him to polish his shoes
As he looked down
He caught a glimpse of her cleavage
A pink robe inside, revealing itself
He realized that he had more than a fetish
It was a real fixation
He had become hooked

"You called me, Mrs. Christian."
"Ah. Yes."
"I am aware that the headmaster wished something from me."
"Yes, William."
"Er. You need something."
"Only to inform you, your education is complete."
They turned up the music and waltzed.

Her pink robe, after being removed, was skimpier than he had first thought
Yet, he carefully considered if the tuition included this
He didn't mind her teaching hands too much
As he tried very hard to arouse her purple lips with his hands
Growing impatient, she took her tumescence
And pushed into it, expertly
It was as if the rain had poured for years, unseen by closed eyes

"William. You make me feel."
"Like a woman?"
"No. Just aroused as hell."
"I guess this is ***."
"No. This is art."
"Art is feeling?"
"Touch my heart. You have."

There was a time
When a boy lived
In a home of keys
He had a key for every situation
One day, a man approached
Asking him, how do I live with my wife
The boy searches for a key
He finds a flower crested one
And says, this shall placate your wife
Let me warn you, however
At the full moon
The key disappears
And so does its magic
The man goes back
Tells his wife
Look at this beautiful ornate thing
The wife says this is perfect
For now we can be the best of lovers
The husband delighted with his purchase
Waits for the full moon
Wondering why a key
With such lasting happiness
Should have temporary power
The full moon approaches
The wife is always toying with the key
This worries the husband
But, he allays his concerns
Thinking, his wife will not mind a bit
For now, let him enjoy her company
And he had been getting plump lately
When the full moon arrives
The wife seems pale
The husband now understands
That it was the key to her heart
Now the magic had died
With it came sorrow
As the key vanished
She locked away her joys
Forever, in her heart
The flower never blossomed again

My poems
Are like clothes
That don't fit me
Soon, I will stand untied and naked
Like a poet without his poems
Bare-faced and brave

A forest full of tears
Cries in the morning
Goes to sleep at night
As we tear its bark
After dark

Why can't I be paid to be poetic with images?
I have tricked my mind for a mottled house
Into bottled thought like leopard-skin
You love me as moons
Shatter the beauty of sunlight
Into thousand starlight
Why isn't the Blake-light, true?
The automobile blood is power
A city fire except the sign stares for hours at night
From outside terrorized tower which was gleaming
Why can't I live on forever with my lines?
With English and carry out my lyric, blindly
I write my mind, and I will drive politics, effusively
So, why can't I write?
Ravenous hunger eats inside at her aching limbs
My mind is numb without choice
I feel dumb without a voice
I am no politician to speak for her
Why can't I write for my lover?
I go for the smoke, upstairs
An upstanding man to my dark-skinned friend
She is drunk with ***** and cigarette ends
In a war with clocks and arguing, pugnacious
She will save me from ****** ******
While I think of cure and release from fools
Thinking of only you
You! Without the mad drunken ******* at the silver spoon
My biography is decided too
So, why can't I write for my dying riches and mind?
Why can't I find the newest moon
Where the moon, often, hides?

How to fill this book
Of Poe and ravens
This is heaven and hell
Maybe Milton
Some of it even sings Dylan
Not Bob, but, Thomas
How do I make myself known
Among all the full moons
And solar eclipses
Written in metaphors
So pure and ruined
That make my mind
Seeth with spinal fluid
That spills out secrets
That will never be appreciated by my gorgeous girl
Oh, my art! It is with you
In death and diseased simile
In love and happiness' alliteration
A couple of complex images are mine
But, the poetess is you
Who understands my warped words about water
Out of whack and lacking space and rain
Everyone wants space
Everyone wants poems on rain, at the same time
Muses and amusing schmucks! They want a trucker and poetess too
And Lincoln to come back alive
Tell the rightful truth
Or loose a tooth or a flower
With deep protected roots
From where an idea
Penetrated the sky
Protruding into the sky
Penumbras fall from the sky
The shadow falls as the book shows the life
Smile my friend
Till the end
My friend.

What do I do these days?
As I sway in a romantic way
I hear the yellow flower turn
I listen to the woods of the swamps slightly forlorn
The staircase points downward, I am lost
When the cars wheel by the pondering eyed strangers
The shores of oceans don't have legs
A soul hollow as the kind blue flower and fruit
Blossoms in the summer-youth which rots the skin to the shin, losing it's rind

It's a surprise to see
In your ashen coil under a sycamore tree
Where you have lost your lonely virility
Where is your heart these days, my child?
Lost in the vigil of the votive offerings of sunflowers
Till the next time
We will see as the tepid wind swells and boils
The effervescent water coolly blows into my eyes
As I sway in the straits of hasty affairs filmed and tinted in romantic lies, my faithful violet

Is it a familiar
Feeling
That we ask why when we wonder how?

A bassist
And a guitarist
They compete over who can get drunk more
The guitarist wins
So, the bassist says
"How do we play tomorrow?"
He replies
"I beat you. I get to play. Not you."

My girl wanted
***** games
She got politics

My girl wanted songs
And politics
She got a guitarist from a band, instead

One person
Tells me
It is in your heart
To find grace
Another one
Tells me
It is in your mind
To hide that face

That is when I look
To my conscience
Telling me right from right
As you can never tell
When you are denying
Everyone your best
Heaven will come to you
If you fall in line with Hell

Existence is the center
The present is the deep ocean
Where you may lose
Where you may win
It is in all of us
To be the worst
Yet, we choose our purest self
Right or wrong

I know I cannot trust the first
Be still my heart
As I do the necessary
The choice of yours
Gives my soul a voice
So, please do not do wrong
As I shan't choose to be right

It is my compassion
That stretches the imagination
If the love can grow
I will let it flower

There was a man
Sitting like a still river
Surrounded by walls

A guileless look and overcoat
Hugged him tight
As he sat on the cold pavement

The woman slept soundly
A silver moon opened her eyes
She ushered in the moonlight

A sorrowful woman in his overalls
Folded her sleeves to hide the bruise
The sunshine couldn't warm her crying eyes

The walls never heard
As a lonely seagull flew by the violent skies
Where the woman squeals and dies

A scenic route was skimmed with broken pebbles
The city lights dimmed the empty streets
A soundless car drifts here, clandestine

All of the people left for their homes
The seagull stayed to die in the red river
Barely escaping the murmurs on the streets
That enter every corner of her house, where she lies

I have lost my writings
The boat has left without me
A cloistered room aboard holds me
A prison cell is cold and lonely
Fishes swim easily
I say this is heavenly

Swans vanish into the fog
Coming out as cygnets
Like ships set out in triplets and fleets
Soon, my message will reach
Heaven!

These are two years
Behind a four by four cell
I wish we were diamonds
Hard to find
A living hell.

They searched for me
In waters of doom and turgid waves
Swallowing all the whales
I gasped for breath and prayed with each
There's no heaven.

The seas released me
Down by the starboard
A comrade of mine eats his warm bread
Fixated on stars
Heavens must need me

He may have remembered
The constellations each night
With only his eyes and no map
We are diamonds, easy to cherish
Hell, isn't it?

Water lay bare and my escape stared
My eyes felt the daring glance
Of the guards who fulminated
As I went alone with the diamonds, hard to carry
I say this is heavenly, sarcastically

It is a long summer
Ending as the winds
Come to close to bring warmth and lovers
Love is all they think
Thinking is all they do
When they are in love
As wise men question fools
They wonder if there is any answer to life
Fools are only ones who know
The answer is love
And they rush in
If the rain comes

I remember when
The rain was a daily occurrence
Windows would shut and bottles would float
On the empty streets in the wind
It was a sudden love that went scarce
Or the disappearance
Of my hometown
That I started to cry
I still miss the rain
That reminds me that tears can hide
This is your hometown too
Where I scurry in alleys and run near trains
The cars will pass me by
Like my childhood does
The trams and rickshaws will go on double time
The buses fare
Everywhere
It's not the same
If I'm not here
Without my friends
If you can understand
What it's like
To be away for years
Then I may be talking of your own town

I've watched the stars
So many times while thinking about you
That I might have counted all of them

If I could
Run from problems
I would choose to walk away

If I could
Escape from fear
I would choose to face the music

If I could
Run from problems
I would choose to face them with you

Just because you are in love
Doesn't mean he is
He just loves your words
Because they make his poems
Like trees make a forest
Waiting for the right poet

There was a fire
A cinema full of smog
A boy with a toy
A girl without a voice

We let the theatre burn
The curtain call
Everyone screamed
All fell down on all fours

The cinema lies in ruins
The boy held on to his mom
The girl stole herself away
From the mirror, wishing she was strong

Your hand, please
Your warm lips
Your suitcase

You shouldn't be armed
Your looks could ****
So I cannot let you leave the country

Your legs
Your eyes
Your purse

I want them shut
If opened
They will see all I do for your love

I want your hand
Your lips
Your suitcase

Closed
It's cold outside
Stay inside

I looked for a moth with eyes black
A body of yellowy gold
It was camouflaged on the brick wall
Which I never had touched
If I hold the redness of the wall
The moth stayed making conclusions of its own
We both were attached to something that made us feel unwelcome
As I kept searching for the moth in the darkness
The cold brick held together by masons
It fell apart and left the moth in a pile of sand
That is when I saw a host of black and yellow moths
Touch my hands
I was no longer an ugly butterfly
I was a colorful moth in their eyes
The Black Butterfly

We were forced to see the stars, under the vault of the sky of awake summer
Our children hid in quaint cottage trenches
Jovial, bright burning their flowers
Morbid and miserable perishing to the scent of youth and sound of guns
Thus, a brother lives in the south trench
The sister bends the steel and makes guns for fun
The youngest makes a wild gesture at heavens
The illuminated son comes on the horizon

Hugged by a valley and mink
Pushed into swarms of pink people
In Mediterranean waters, one can feel their warmth and rose sands too
Spread across their skin of nakedness and salinity
Like the Biblical flood that carries shipless waves
That takes away the verdigris moss too
A chorister in the sky sings to open skies of music and staves
Soon, the children of Gods will capsize as ships do

Intoxicated by orchards of red and blue
They trespass the general's chateau
The golden leaves fall, with a crackle and reddish rust in the wet trough
Trees lose their ****** and flare
Abandoning all doves and their penumbra and shadow
Wondering what is ruined, in a hungry fatigue
The children leave their hiding spot, unawate
Only waiting for the bird to tell them to get away

It is time to run from the past
The stars will die and this Earth shall cry
Soon, the war will be over
The flowers will burn with a prudery
As petals curl inwards and hover
After a while no one will feel the humidity
I am still throw pebbles and stones across the road
On the general's chateau
Like Apollo's arrows

Some rare nights
When I think of the world
The fabric of space and time
Just splits the swirly smog

It is for some seconds
Through the cloak of darkness
Before dawn
In the painted knit of jet black skies

I can see the diamonds of the night
Like people on empty streets
They are scattered
I wonder, lonely stones come from where

They seem to belong to me
No one shares the same stars as I (except a poet)
Yet, they choose to be in the coldest nights
When I think of your cold glare

Except, diamonds are forever
You're the scientist
Who taught me this
Through heartbreak

That a ball of gas
Which is million miles away
From our living world
Is already dead, is only alive as an afterimage

All we have is our love poetry
People are now eternally in the present
That is why some of us are poets
Because we live in the past like dying stars and write

The first thing you want
Will be the last thing you need

The first thing you need
Will be the last thing you even find.

I find writing
On something alive
And dreamy
A dying art
That decomposes into madness