Is tomorrow another beginning
Or the end of the beginning
When does the perfect ending come
If it does arrive, what prescribes the reason
To precedent can we hold it to be worrisome
For us, tomorrow is just an anomaly
A wordless remark on the fruit of today
If it does have some patterned conscience, how do we stop hurting
Like birds without flight or wings
Grasping the sky, without purpose
Always singing the caged bird's song
Forever, even when tomorrow comes
Bolted doors will be removed and empty as windows
Opening of loading docks for homeless ships
To return, without knowing they ever left
Abandoning the captain of this vessel
Who believes in patience
And living in the present

Rest comes easy
But work comes
With a little less peace

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

Finished my education
Heading for college
New expectations and people
Like characters and plot-lines
In the books I carry.

Where we live
Is such a nice place
But, I wish that our minds
Were bigger
And hearts more generous
Without these things
People cannot be nice
And nice people cannot exist

Walking through towns
I seem to be an outsider
To the kingly crown
That reigning
Amidst the frowns
And the caustic clowns
Rules my life
And what I own
And my presence feels
lonely in the crowd

With a heart so warm
A palm of flowers
Folds inward to form
A gossamer web likened to guitar

A lush petal envelopes
The sky, calling it
With a stamen, sloped
Undressed by pollen upon more pollen

In thy heart's rest place
One may age calmly
Like a tree freely grows
Leaving a reflection upon the water

Yet, when away my heart yearns for your kiss
For your presence in things has gone amiss

I wonder why he has a smoke
I wonder why he has a beer
I wonder why he has been intoxicated, once before
When life is not innocuous at all
I wish that she took those things off my mind
And let me relieve the guilt and reprieve myself
When life is always teaching me through dilemmas
After I make all of the mistakes I learned from western cinema

Alone again
I can't seem better
But, you won't try in vain
Alone again
Time runs quicker
But, I won't try anyway
Alone again
Have you any money
Right now?
Have you got any soul
To cash on me?

Follows you through
Life turns and obstacles
Just wants a walk at the end
At the end of a day

I
Need
Some
Timely
Attention
Gently
Rising
As
Mass media

poetry drips like honey
fluids keep me from viscosity
of the slowness of a lifeless
nuance where I can be ******
And sensitively the one and only
My wives keep me company
Only in memory
My cats and possessions in the fray
Of poetry
My phallus keeps the gaping
hole of my fallacy
As a reminder of the unwanted *******
Time drips slow and steady
Somehow the gears and wheels
Keep me alive
I keep the tears of life
Awake in sight of effervescent might
Hotly teeming with meaning
Is a ******* that's bleeding

When I first peered at you by rare chance
Caressing me with your unfaltering, fiery glance
My soul fell breathless, taking flight
Silent for a long while

I could hear my shallow heart beat in my chest
As your eyes found their way down my waist
Looking at me with a love I had longed for
Ushering life into me, bringing back the fervor

And so, I searched your eyes too
Tracing your sculpted figure, now in full bloom
Drenched in ****** rawness, you had me
Lost in a boundless sea of beauty

You ran through my very being
And my heart has abandoned me
It is comforted by sunsets and nature
But soothed by your laughter

Are you the kind of person who loves romantic poetry?
Are you the kind of person who loves recessing parts of rhythmic *******?
I wondered when your question would come in the form of poetic thinking if the feeling felt off
Did the left-wing ascend your very soul, or were you intermittently aware of your mind's pleasure?
The same hand that jerks around that thought of progression?
Is this just a consideration, or I am willing to say love is timeless?
Are thoughts without ideals, or are we free from our own inhibitions?
Did the second line shock you, or we expect to question from the thoughtful viewing?
That descended into ****** thinking around some form of critical reasoning?
Then, you aren't like me

I don't know why you
Walk behind
With a stick
To hit me on the head
Instead you could've strayed
From the way
Paving the way
For the mumbo-jumbo
To keep me in rubble
Of the political mumble

The magic of thousand fires
Burns bright
In the dark
A sight for sore eyes

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

Deities could be written
For us,
Looking at stone cults that know themselves, and judge the intelligence
That might come with barren souls, are we wasting our creativity for noise
When music, is the thought that relaxes and it also counts.

The color of her hair
Draping over her face so fair
For a lover, she has no haught or air
She is one, who can hold me in a stare

Beethoven looks for music
In a church to express her love
Among his notes
Such are her words, as compared to some song

She has the glow of muses
If she wants to amuse you
You will never know
You will always be joyous, looking into the heart of light

A cold cup of coffee, she takes it strong
It's just the smoke from the chimney, that tells me she is home
Back in her town among the old
My heart longs for her, but, she doesn't stay awhile

For an endless time, I gaze
The trees rustle and anticipate
Without her, my heart loses its fire and blaze
You will understand my angst if you see her face

As I stand bare against the wall
With a shadow of her in the distant willow
Amidst the howling wind drowning out my sorrow
There are many a present for each tomorrow

If my love was true
It is because of you
The cellos will sway and sing
To those songs of love and hate

I got the blues
They have come over me, like Tuesday
If they live in the city where sea implores
Here is a drink with ice too freeze by rhime
A tune can bring love in your heart, baby on time
Freeze it too, here Freddie tends to the bar
Bar's closed on Sunday
If Tuesday is the day, blood is red
Both are true, one is truer
I can get a drink to escape my feelings in my heart
And bring feeling in my chest, as they shoot down Adam
It is a heaven, a sinner can bear

I might be strange
My dreams seem strange
It takes familiar things
To calm me down
Yet, all of these frivolous things
Feel
Strange
A political poem on the front page
A love poem in my inbox
Seem familiar, yet
Never make it
Like a ship in darkness
Very strange

I have used up my time
And the passions for doing better for society
Fulfilled my life with purpose meant for a select few
Few only understand my ambition
The placid rime of the literary movement
Makes me realize, time being an object
Of innocence imbibed in my veritas
In my wine, I find the truth in crime
Buttressing every feeling, within its intoxication
I find peace in my revelry
My merry men that share my head full of truth
Within these feelings, I find peace with my white lies
As my life gets darker because of foolish honesty
I sip my red wine with amnesty
The feeling of righteousness washes over me like a salty ocean
Immersed by beauty, I do stay afloat
But, the water is gone and so are the remnants of a squire
Who made me the person I am

It's dinner
Light's are turned down
Dimmer
Mmm
Dinner

******* at the sneakers
I hope you got the bud
I need the ******
How you gonna stay with me after this smoke
If higher than a cloud
Look at the *****
Step and tippy-toe
She hopping on your ****
Keep your company
******* her right in the ****
With the same ****** face
She looks like she gonna ***
Any second
Doesn't make a difference
You couldn't last another minute

We left in an hour
Got her by the gears
She told to touch her ******* and keep her tongue
In my tongue
Easy
Handle her by hips
Keep her for a long time
She's give you good loving
Where's the business?

As the dawn lights up the room
Through dark curtains
A solitary ray peaks through
Afraid to disturb the silence

The morning is restless
Without her embrace and presence
The first sound I hear is the bird sing
Her sweet gestures still rankle this broken heart

She often brought me happiness
In my life void of affection and beauty
Her words calmed
The river of traumas

I share these songs with her
Now those memories bring me solace
When her eyes listened, lips smiled
As I pick up the broken pieces

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

The mundane nature
Of something
That can be maintained
By the force of nature, and the pressing matters
All fall into some kind of unconscious wiser self
That, your own nature
It isn't tabooed by your ideology
By simple tautology, you can make the logical connections
Some kind of fluid motion in the large but infinite place
There's your hope in your own self
It's your indecision
That makes the entropy of the universe
The chaos that presently brings
Tomorrow is your own perception of this hope
Maybe, if you can take your time
If you tried
You could probably think that this void
Is filled by that point of view, and it gives you acknowledgement

Love is a beautiful thing
Understanding is brilliant feeling
Indeed
Loving and understanding a woman
Is a thing of feeling

Nothing does but, wildlife is
All around us,  the fire is through
The lyrical forests are burned in exhaustion

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

Chained to you
I can't see the light of day
But, I can spend the nights with you

Shoot me a coward, who can
Perniciously end my life with intention
The danger in the dark, escaping, off with the rider

In climbing trees of sevo
At said heights
Save yourself
Inscribing scriptures
Essence of reason
Innocence is an old picture

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

You can five-five out of the ten dollars
Split my face into a shared love
On a candle-lit dinner, talking about change
The fertile and warmer stratus of the fabric of time and traces
Dance and bounce up on the wrong end of the shore of the sunnier Big Sur
The timeless freedom of the doubt, you're not a Boy Scout
You're out of excuses, you've run out of petulance
Tell me more, that your gander doesn't accept your biscuits
Dog treats, too bad karma's a *****
The boy scouts don't take some witty transient soul
Gender dysphoria, where in the world, I'll show you fear in a handful of tuilles and caramel dust
Smoldering a smitten cigarette, and the reciprocating love of the numinous
Bumblebee flying of the wrong note, in the symphony
If you can play it slow, you can flay it fast, indeed
Tres, doux, un and the numbers are wrong
3121 are the redacted numbers of the phone that I broke, the writer knows where the rubber's at
You know the time, fief
The trembling fear is a pied piper dream, I'm breaking my nuts
On a growing pair of hopes, that shower me with colorful affection
Afflicted by the greed, and lithe people are my illumination
They have Swede dreams and Swiss sweets
German grobschnit and psychedelic for the arts, centered around cherry pop
Coke's a drug if you snort it with the straw until you get the ice out
Tentative and attenuating, alarm me by the evoking stoner's death
Daydream and dredges of some sinister sarcasm wake you up out of being a criminal dude

The reprisals of your life
Cuts like the role of a comedian
In this sad tale of redemption and humor
Where we may be clowns to God, but, positive to each other
Someday, I hope we live up to this standard

Every artist is an intellectual
Until
They get nervous

Abstention nor rejection, the distinction of her heart
Soul or soulless, my flight shall take me wherever
Flesh or fleshless, my heart will know fervor
As I finally leave a broken heart and ride in the galloping oceans, I shall wait
In the jet black night my body aches in pain and rejecting-oblivion

Coffee in my innermost thoughts
Keeping me awake
At night
In the sleeping recesses of my mind

I drew him
Eyelids closed
Beauty stayed
Like paintings
In a museum

Three times
I took from the lake
Now I look at my reflection
I find that my face doesn't
Look any cleaner
It's raking with traces
Of my cases
The farther I go from
The pond
I closed in on
A real sunrise
Came on the lake of law cases
Finding my place in the sun
On the golden pond
In the distance
there was the lasting
Of reaping reveries

Must I debate
About the proponents
Of acrimony and war, or do you wanna handle this
With modern warfare in the war room
The smoke, screens and chaos, it gets me thinking
Why we bundled them up as the papers meant for each passing Pope
These papers take lives away, give breathing souls false hope

I've been meaning to say this for a long time
Second guessing my well-rehearsed lines
Taking my sweet time
Riding out the nights

When you were in my life
I had cast myself into a downward spiral
I'd fallen far enough
To contemplate my mistakes

Your beauty's inspired
My staged rhymes can't describe it
There's no better way to say this
Than with honesty

On some days
When I'm feeling fine
And the sun peers through the angelic clouds
And I'll catch myself staring
A second longer, at the skies
Really soaking in that fleeting moment
To remind myself that I'm well
But not cured
I'd hit rock bottom almost decade back
Falling to the depths
Closer to madness
Some of those days, I can't remember
Whoever finds this poignant
Trust me
When I say, I find no joy
In telling you that I had no roof over my head
But I want you to avoid
The mistakes I made
Along the way
I'd sleep on some park benches
From time to time
Praying for rain to come
And wash the night off its sweat
I too was tired
Everyday when it was dinner time
From sixteen to twenty seven
It's been a long way
But somehow the change took place
I started working
Had a life of my own
Money of my own
And the future became a bit clearer
My heart a bit kinder
To a clean mind
I never could tell when it all started
To think I didn't get a head start at life
Even fewer get a blank slate
A chance to repair and make amends
Too often
I've held onto regret
To those who I damaged
I carry the weight still
And I hurt myself even now
Bleeding their blood
In a war with myself

I sweep my house
Cleanly
Cementing the marriage vows

COVID 19
2 months it has been
All of my favourite places are closed
I cannot meet my favourite people
I cannot go to my favourite countries and destinations, even though, I don't travel I still will complain

COVID 19
I cannot meet my psychiatrist and my favourite oncologist
Although, my psychiatrist is my oncologist, because I keep saying that 'This post causes cancer.'
I miss my friends and yet feel more connected through Tinder
The malls are open, but, I complain that the shops are closed to the common man without the smartphone and a wallet to buy luxury and mammon

COVID 19
How you have opened my eyes
I have learned to support the government and talk behind their back when some of my friends bang their plates and others stay silent in vehement protest

COVID 19
You must know the meaning of farce because you have the PM chasing after super spreaders and Anti-CAA protesters just the same

COVID 19
Without you, my favourite things will never be the same again.

It is common
For people to listen tostories
Witty tylenol and beef cakes and swords won’t
Cut it brutes, and acts of morality in temparate whimsical talk of polished skulls
We hung the brute with the pigeon hole and steel wing
Dragonfly city cupping the deleterious eyes of compound soybeans and fermented liquor
Looking amber like fossilized time

A natural order was seen
Living in the forests of time
Where wild men run free
As mothers keep providing

The mother hides in the shadows
Unaware of the crime of her children
Letting the life cycle move as clouds do
As the race for time will never find an end

When we live in the city
The cars live on the roads
Now and then, is a lot like
A forest of the day, hiding in the darkness of night

Under a canopy
Where the bright places are absent
The snails will move as clouds
Letting the clouds run free

Under a canopy
Where the shadows hide
The brightness of a tiger
A quest for life leads us to our destiny

It's not meant to be
It is
Meaning to be
She tells me
To remove my heart in need
Slower with the words
I tell her
Eased out in the profession of clerks
Slower heartbeats
Than a typewriter's speed
In a stenographer's office
The typing reaching ears
Of the one in despair
And the one in the seat
Meant to be