Life is a long road
Full of metaphors
Full of humor
Life is a long run

I haven't had got the shoes
So, I put myself in someone's skin
They say, the days move by
But, the nights die with the sword

I remember a man hanging
From the crescent moon
With his eyes on the stars
And heart on the lonely earth
Having only his loneliness

Which he couldn't contain
So he shared it
With the world
In the form of love

If I know it is love
They hide under my bed

Until the end of time, I want you asleep

They hide under my bed
Why would I **** anyone, if I hate waking up
I want to **** those souls
Who are lost love in the foggy dust where starshine
Them monsters hide in my darkness
Cometh the dark of ephemeral gaze
Knowledge, cometh hath endless will
They hide under my bed

I want to **** them, with an arm that holds gold
But, doesn't lose the riches to ones who slave
With open arms, they held me in lads of maggie's farm
When the arms shut, the part of books was lost where we were
I wish we were younger

Love is as it merits
With open daydreams, I need you ready for the hostel
When the arms dry, the water gushes through valleys as gelid ice T
The fearful night that
I want your understanding, not your patience
Write your heart on parchment, and gray days left the blue skies
In the fair lovely heather, feather, come hither and gather
Lift my soul, and my soul is hopeful
That someday that you will be my real name, God
God, I don't know if I know love or this earth

Hope is a dangerous thing
Dangerous minds need true faces and true crime
Present, here and now, here and jaguar
I love your soul, I love you maybe
If I know what free will is, take my heart on the urn
Turn my soul into ashen dust, fear my hands of gray dry dusk
With laconic faces, and pure hearts
When I left you I left with dreams
When I left you I left with dreamy people
When I left you I left with my greater gin

You taught me how drink
I used to drink water
And now I drink lassoes in the skies

You teach me how to fall into puddles of love
Caged and a page from my book, here and there is now
Pray tell me, what is happening to you daughter
Do you have a prodigal son?

You taught me how to drink wails
You taught me how to look into the sea
Of lost soul? In a farewell for twisted souls
Please keep me home, or keep me safe from tomes
Please keep us together when we are part of the lads that fight for madness
As the center pop, the stages stars into
Realized crowded women, and unrealized men
Who watch the movie for the lanes.

The lives
Of strong ladies
Bring out the dream
Lady from my darkest
Desires
And give her
Shape in the
Size of the infinitum of this
Universe

Perhaps a stone throw away
Are our children
In Old age

Hazier in daylight
Getting sunshine
By the second
Daydreaming

The pallid expression on her absent face
Her fair skin has lost it's marble touch
She is prudent and prurient as her gaze
There is a youthful grace that I cannot judge
Must I comprehend, this alabaster?
Should I presume, the sculptor made an erroneous smudge?
In a park of tracks and pulverized people
Their faces clutch at her words
As they are left only with the epithets and hardly any details
My landlord pleads for rent as I reach upstairs
He wonders and wants to know more
Should I reply with mumbles?
It is a festering wound at my heart's core
That coagulates at my throat as I fumble
For there is no answer
There is no question
It is just to do or die without her
All of it can coalesce
If I give in to my fiery adolescence

The October leaves drizzled from the tops of branches
How they shine in the sun's rays, autumn gold and hectic red
A cold dark side like a deep trench in those arches
The willow and fir widen their arms for us
I'll remember this day forever

Ravens whetted by the rain's speared sun ray
The trees make their home for the peregrine
As Cupid harken, relinquishing his sheaf
Indeed, it is the arrows that scintillate under a violet tree
I'll memorize every bit of this elation and release

Every autumn when I look at trembling fickle blades
My mind finds its rest place as it looks for mystery
But, the world spins on its axis, neither ascent nor descent
A book's essence is dug up from it's spine, turned into dissent
Knowing I cannot live forever, I will remember this day

Hey!
Hello, Poetry I'm Aditya.
I wanna make myself
Essay hee

In a forest of blue lakes and green shrubs
Finding a rose is simple
And we don't mind getting stung by a bee
Such is the beauty of an ecosystem that has little lilies

If you like flowers, you will love the green leaves
On the trees that are in ample amounts
As long as you don't mind getting kicked by a deer
Such is the magnificence of the rainforest

Imagine that forest offered flowers for your hair
Would you mind if she cried once in a while
As long as you don't have to wipe her tears, right?
Such is the innocence of human nature, let us appreciate it

If you feed a hungry child
You save it for a day
If you teach a hungry child
You save it from sleepless nights

To which woman
This has no effect
I was once in love with her
Her heart had no architect
Such is her beauty so interwoven
In mine and my fate I had not expect

Cigarettes and alcohol
Have become the simple pleasures
Of a time of complications
A lady hawk that flies like butterflies
Keeps some food in your sock
Eat some bread and spread the joy
Interest yourself in the possibilities
Think about the probabilities
Intentions can be validated in gestures
But, there is no reprieve from the guilt
These are guilty pleasures, that started as simply regret
These are simple pleasures, that are beguiling and freeing
The innocence of children in a park of moving swings and birds

The rain came down, and washed my cigarettes and stole my inaugurated abode
Hatcheting and brushing the hedges of my meadows
I'm in the lord's spirit

Finding silence in an unending peaceful voice
Desire and volition
Saltation is just a leap of faith for the miserable

Pretention is just the walk of noblemen with promiscuous women
Cigarettes, alcohol and steaks, I'm sure my appetite is tended
My hunger, ravenous, is just an obvious statement

I cannot talk through necessitous circumstance
Be a part of avian species part of the congregation
Derelict, stolid plights of valetudinarian do not amuse you, they incite your fear of ambition

Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings, cut them for size

Dust turns to dust
Ashes turns ashes
Finally I'll be in
The place I belong
If I had anywhere to live
I'd feed off the ground
Rather than breed interminably
Or harbinger a lavish disease
But, it's fun being alive
When you know you are close to the ending
Like reading a book till its last page

Except the story keeps playing in my soul
In my special place
Where I know solitude
Or what dreams are made of
Peaceful starry skies are where I find oblivion

If you keep thinking over the same drugs
I'm afraid
We're have reduced your dosage
An electric shock in the next 2 hours
A buzz should keep you gliding for two minutes
Without the knowledge of how the clock ticks after 12, past midnight
While inmates are sleeping, peacefully, I'm sure you're you are wandering about at 2 in the morning
I am certain you are wandering, and precociously searching for the right escape as your search ends in velleity
Since you already know the answer
To leaving this institution without reprieve and any spontaneous knowledge
So, don't do drugs or they will **** you first.

If you're in pain
You're hurt
Not by stumbling onto love, but by skipping happiness
Take a leap of faith on, to the bridge of life
And you'll know life could better with a little love
Trusting people is that leap of faith
That is the power of knowledge, and what it offers
If I'm wrong, I don't want to be right
No one can be certain of the brilliance of law of cause and effect
Dedication, determination, the diligence that's the way of life and eradicating evil strife

It took me a long while
To really understand how we inure each
Other in two or threes, taking each number
Like a closed leading to an open door
Contraltos and passive ancestors have one thing in common
Lies and literature, it took to you to be a good person so what
You took to prison and a cell of broken speech and schools took you in peremptory pleasure, with some loquacity and leisure
Mellifluous or mundane, quoting has some substrata of truth, broken down into placid men in Lenin's underground communist movements
Black and broken like the hungry poverty, of the speech and resplendent sum, inventively locum tenens more than the summated parts of clients
Remeasuring the men around me, finding the inclination within singularities
Violent and breathless broken poetry

Kids who get bullied in the alley
In school and kicked out of college
Try making it to a league of good writers
As they learn how to punch the keys and I just bleed on paper
Also, letting out the anger
My dad never drank or smoked
But, he loved me a lot
Maybe, I was a bad kid who never loved anyone before
Because I never was treated well in school
One fine day, I stayed after school
Losing to my friends in a fist-fight
After a few years, I got into psychedelics and misfortune
Kept reading in the meantime
Barely processing all those drugs
Let alone the literature
Soon, I started a career as an underrated writer
Influenced by Hell and it's angels
Talking to myself, and making clouds of thoughts in my head
I thought I wouldn't be the only angel head who would become a poet in this day-and-age of hippies and world leaders
So, I wanted to be an author as I kept writing out my epitaph while figuring out nothing
Quite like India without the politics
I never liked mixing the two
It should just be country and God
I always believed God gave me my folks
I gave myself my life and my mess.

I know I miss your heart
I miss your art
Your shapes and curves
I know these are things I miss

As the world turns round from night to day
Your memories last a century
But, there is no solace
From the moments we shared

When I know I miss your arms
I imagine those hands touch the sky
With a little skip and sigh
A lasso steals the sun and the light dies

You brighten up the midnight
Is there anything else I missed?
Yes.
You!

Down the underwater
Take the bubbles
Break em up, **** the lime acerbic wit killjoy
Facetiously pushing out the service asking for a hitch back home
Cuddling up to the trunks of the elephant of the room
Bedlock with dread of the meandering truck loving peach luck
Peachy eyed, kimono geisha fire me up and entertain men
Thematic schemes, all part of your plan
Party in the USA, rock with your ***** in Russia
Freeze to death in sugary rush of ***** and virgins, dishevel the exceptional man
Blizzard steam cuprous culture praise the lizard king, fly out of the pressings quickly
Pen down your life
I’d have ideas for you
Make songs for you
The pieces make sense, if you put the jigsaw puzzle together again

You’re stuck in the middle

Got a job
Started a club
Didn't wanna fight

When a kid
Hoping for the height to touch the clouds
When a teenager
Hoping for just the sun's warmth amidst crowds
When an adult
Hoping for time at home makes your family proud
When an old venerable person
You realize you are
Too old to touch clouds
Until knowledge tells you that that desire lies in foggy mornings
Too old to look for sunshine
Until experience tells you there is nothing more beautiful than the sunset
Too old to keep your family intact
Until wisdom tells you each person goes their own way
When in death
Hoping to reach Heaven laying behind some star
In space, away from this Earthen abode

From down there
We know you can't climb out
The Lord won't hear you
He thinks nothing is wrong

She knows that you're wailing for love
She knows that you're waiting for her
The moment's gone, time's passed
The past is gone, all there is is now on

Are you the beads
On a necklace
Because you look good on my neck
Are you my eyes
And wear my looks on
Are you the coffee
I have instead of tea
I’d read you instead of your choices
Like the luck of many jewels and mellifluous
Noels that shine on the trees in the auriferous
Celebration of Christmas
The coffee is getting cold in anticipation
Waiting for you too
On a distant menu of reading material
I love you like my to-do list
I’m glad I understand and unsee you, in chiming bells
Let’s go to the place together and sleep
Forever

I can keep remembering the memories
That should be trapped inside, in cupboards
That keep more welcoming things like custard powder and baking soda
It's all written on the grocery list of week's work
My workingman's dead
You do not have one of the things, or feelings
On the list of items meant for non-believers who hang like non-living things
Having their own non-living features and redeeming ways, still recuperating
Have we lost our ways, or I keep asking myself have I forgotten anything
If I can't title my desires and compartmentalize them, in closets meant for clothes
These are what I wear, revealing some cracks in the deep-ends
Broken places and war, you're stuck just like the rest of the thespians who seek purpose
Is it just an act, or am I looking at the story unfolding?

In a boring day
Amidst the concubines
All in the palace shells
Roomed in the book
Cloistered from the rest
The king keeps slaves to himself
Just for that one fine day
When boredom sets in
Like the summer breaks into summer leaves
Untouched by water and spring
In a boring day
We cast aside our differences
Ignorant of each other's wealth
Tempered by our grace
Embracing our space
Accepting our distance
Cast out into the wilderness

I suppose because of the approach to poetry
I might not be taken seriously, and for
Such purposes, I venture on making a premise
A sudden purpose you may call it in similarity
To pellucid and amiable as a similitude

Are you a rebel of the mind
Fiddling with ideas
Unsatisfied with what you find

Are thoughts your own exchange
I can tell
Maybe, you have surrendered to
Night terrors, and panic attacks
In the dark, as the room lies on uncertain
Displeasure seeks pleasure
And remorse comes in absentia
In the feeling of sensory deprivation
I find mental depravity, I do not find reprieve
In the deprived dream, I am walking without any ground under my feet
The thought of your love keeps me afloat

The warmest feelings
Come from people
Who have felt the fire deeply
Or those who have been burnt badly
By being in love truly and madly

My restful ease, and my mellow dream
Among a class of neighborhood, looking for a birthed ideal
I rested my case, with my pack of suitcases, on the road of devilish deeds
In this land of eternity
My case carried sandalwood, creme brulee, celadon, chartreuse, cognac, a copy of today's newspaper
A phone rested in a knapsack, among other erroneously kept articles, a duet for cello and violin, icicle, a firebird, a lighter case, and post-it mentioning your number
These are my creative and crests of cemented ceramic carved poetry, in a carved out moon for the cruising werewolf driver
My face hung from the wall, just like the thought of a perfect day
Welcoming your good-intentions and charmin', a winding road disarming cars on this road to the universe

My words
Your lips
Linger on mutually
So good our free boys are
I still wonder where the youngest kid is
Looking at you, pricelessly
God bless the child
God bless the children

Reaching for the weapon
In a pool of blood
Catching
The criminal
Standing out

Some days on a summer turf
I remind myself that the leaves
Will blow into effervescence as a sudden freeze
As flowers do under the grey sky of winter

Bushes will rustle in the wind
The heat will turn into sorrow and sadness
As the rain pours and pours into a drenched blemish
Like there is no tomorrow for us to furnish our existence on

Like an Indian river that flows
Till there is an end to freedom
Waiting for God to conquer it, everyday
As it tows the sand and rests in the bay

Most of these nights, I do not even try to sleep. The bed lays empty and the night grows on me. My mind wanders if it is simply tired or sometimes I turn myself on if I am too scarred. When the nights sparkle, that is when I step out and search.
The nights sparkle these days under the city streets and one may even find some crime in the darkness. I look for some drugs in the back alley still even in adulthood. There is a homeless man covered in cardboard and goose feathers. I thank my good fortune because no strings attached means I have found what I am looking for.
Somehow, he always talks about a ride to paradise just for fun. He even laughs about Las Vegas as he fights his demons. Au contraire, I lay awake in my crumpled sheets satiated, his sign is etched in my memory. "Drugs'll **** you.-Voltaire"
It has been 3 years since I saw a criminal shuffle his feet across the alley on to the pedestrian crossing on Park Avenue. The breath of moaning women can be imbibed from a nearby brothel. Some may not even bat an eyelid when thinking to avoid this street and it's capillaries. Yet, this niggardly beggar keeps me company. This beggar keeps me company.
I buy him a whiskey to help him sleep as a breeze moves softly through the streets. A *** of his choice helps him keep his insides warm. I read the ending of "Sweeney Among The Nightingales" from my book as dozes like a docile child.
A warm summer approaches and we talk in cold tones about the politics of the country. But, this conversation is the most memorable.
"Bud, you must have capacity."
He says,"Is that why you keep me nearby your shoulder? To make fun of me?"
I say "I don't flatter anyone. I just get cranky when dawn comes."
He keeps silent and then resumes,"Smoke this."
I take a puff and days go by.
I find his spot and he is gone. His signboard lays on the sidewalk,"Drugs'll **** ya" it says.
Now I can sleep knowing that he is gone to a better place. Whenever the nights sparkle, I remind myself that the search continues unless I keep dreaming, hoping they will come true. That's when I knew I met the greatest artist who could actually bring change with a candid remark and turn the world berserk in a quick flick of a flame. Not with a bang, but, a whimper

It is 11:11 now
In one minute
I will cry more
Than the entire day
Dry tears

**** literature
If you want
But, don't keep your head in your ***

Milk bottles, cats, doorsteps,mailman,milkman
Milk under the doorstep
Nine lives in the  making
Drinking someone's else's milk
Mailman sends out another's letter of absence
Who really brings milk

Friendship is a single soul
Dwelling in two bodies

Competition is two bodies
Dwelling in one hobby

Cuprous blue seeps into the hue
Of copper salts that are soluble to a certain degree
Ionized by the quantum physics of fluid mastery
Some of us call it mechanics, unable to find the shapely
This semblance of a resolute material dissipates into amorphous structures
Characterized by homogeneity
The redness of the sky might be because the highest wavelength fits
I guess it's survival of the fittest
But, all of them are pretty light and coruscating
In this rainbow of seven hues and seen from a mathematicians perspicacity
In a chemist's hitchhiking imagination on highflying LSD
Desolate from his experiences, reveling in his trident of discovery
Meditation, microdosing, and maths can make a deadly concoction
So when will you wake up, if a chemist saw the light in ego death
When will you wake up, if a physicist saw the nature of light in it's the essence
Maybe, you understand the mathematics of this astral world based on senescence governed by adic numbers
Maybe, you understand the rush of not being anywhere that is akin to progress
The perfect circle might be a loquacious description of pi
If you are correct till each decimal point
Making your place on this map, with numbers that guide your numbered time

Swallowing the whole sun
The eyes envelope one's darkest night
The light could not be created on sallow skin
Escaping from the deity
Only an unkind look without velleity
A feature of true athletic build
A statue of such gilded nature
Where tenderness wears a crown
The sun may have no roots
Many truths can be told in those unfazed eyes
For the light shines and ripens fruits
For those with a future brighter than
The son of Zeus and Leto
Made from these pastoral tools
All of my love fails in your creation
If your ego isn't frail
All of my love passes through
And my spirit proceeds beyond thee
Here endeth the tale
As I am what I am
You are what you are
If I walk or run through life

My shoes
Keep getting tougher
And the road's longer the more I run
In the end
I look to the skies
For the crimson
TO lift my highs
To show the lows of life
Shadowed by false belief
Rumbling stomachs
Remind how paltry people
Are afraid of the tempestuous thunderstorms
But their saints are washed away in the rain
Finding their waves in waters
Of the ones that are said
I love the element of the wind

The way you cry
Over your bread
Recess of people make the time out of selling it by the wheat

The marijuana can **** a bit of pain
I don’t know how, I just never hoped
It would be so soon that it weeded out my mead, kneeded with *******

A dream of little sunshine on your street
I pressed my cheek to you demurred
Joyous that we had divided the new order and found God lurking in the corners of godless streets

In opportunity and benefit
Honest lovers are passionate
So, they share the moonlight and stumble forth
Onto endless opportunity and mirth

Truth shows after a while, so does nature
Turns after a while, ripe and mature
Then, what once was a peaceful affair
Becomes a burden, that's your love's future

For the world is only so beautiful
That another woman will deserve your youth
And the universe will not offer the love
You thought yourself entitled to once

Find what makes you gleeful and cherish it
For the day when you no longer are rich
The shared sunset you wished for will be lost soon
And regret of waiting on the dawn will leave you

Rock, moss, iron
As I roam the streets of fire lamps
Dinner, lunch, breakfast
Je ne dois pas oublier
(I must not forget)
The rivers that once converged
Like the verses of Bukowski
And Baudelaire
Which talk of the same woman
That smell of roses reminds me
And the old man understands that
She deserves to be in love
Despite it being beautiful metaphor
The same flower lady laughs boorishly
When they get the thorns
And get forlorn
The zoo, archways, beaches
These are poetic places
Until I met you
These places had a voice
Now I hear you in traces
Soon the meaning turns shallow
And I have to listen closer
To my heart to find the same song
Of rock, moss, iron
Crumbling to my touch
Exposed to the cold rain
Which I once waited for in my youth
Now too attached to your love
Rusting like iron gates

Like water you are silent
Like the crashing waves out
Like the streams of cold water
Like the chasing wind of crying stars
Whenever you come out of the sea
You hide behind the cloud when the moon comes out
When the light comes out, it's over and there are just silent waters
Over a straddled bridge where the madcap laughs raucously

Light is broken, and brass is unspoken

I have seen your gloomy eyes
They notice the stars in the skies
But, they float on the dark circles under them

When I ignore that barren ocean
Of your empty eyes
That reflects a heart full of emotion

I see you have traveled lands far and wide
Only to find someone who isn’t as starved
Of light

If I’m
Dreaming of you
Everyday
Actively

At the quiet hours of a starless night
In a hushed town
I wait for you in a cafe in a crowded street
Wanting to tell you

You are the warmth of summer
In the vast lands covered in snow and hail
That melts the glaciers
Turning them into rivers that run free

I was yours
But sometimes you were mine
Beautiful and innocent as this may be
I bury the passion inside

The last time when we met
For a brief moment, I felt a shiver run through me
The heat pulsate from within
A hunger for your sensuous lips

I wish I would have said something
But I'm afraid my heart wouldn't let me
Yet, you are calm and tempered
Gasping as you read this, nudging me to write

I remember what you wore that day
The burning sensation inside
Doesn't fade into the endless ether of memories
I need you now, more than ever

Let me hold you till you are left breathless
Gushing into you and gnashing your *******
Away from the world around
Covering your lithe figure with my scent

Unable to get you off my mind
Under the pale moonlight
I write for you on this starless night
As my poems slowly become void of life

Yet, you still love them
And so I channelize the fire
Letting my poems speak for me
Revealing my darkest desires to you