.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

around the hut gathered a crowd
the Englishman had made them proud
by taking an Indian wife.

what kinda man he could be
a white skin yet unhesitatingly
embraced a native's life.

they viewed him with awe
to his kin a flaw
living and loving in a thatched house.

he was a bishop's son
that made an alien land his own
and Kosibai, a Gond woman, his spouse.

In the confusion of silence where eyes slice
the lifeline between living and
dying there's no use anyone trying
to retreat.

Some beat disorder while others
totter
and
teeter
on the edge of blind reason,
for who hears the call there's
no reason at all.

The clock on the wall sees and minutes it all,
to report to the masters of time,
in the web of my making
I am taking some time ,
going to spin me some yarn
going to drink me some wine.

And the silence can take me to make me
one of her own.

There's music in my soul,
Only you can make it whole.
Your saxophone calloused fingers,
Tap me inside and out until I sing.
Oh baby, I can feel the notes threatening to pierce me,
Never have I felt so free.
Place your lips upon me like your saxophone,
I can feel it in my soul.
You love is so sweet,
I can feel you play me into a melody.
Hold me like your saxophone,
Hold me that close.
Even when we're fighting,
We make perfect harmony.
Move your fingers on me,
Play me.
Move me to your music, my love,
Take me to all the notes below and above.
You have my love, saxophone player,
You're the only one that can take me there.
Use your music on my soul,
And play me like your saxophone.

Ever catch yourself
caught between
the light and dark?

Has the stark contrast
blinded you, both
from lack of
and abundance of
luminescence.

Ever rounded a night corner
and prayed that the road
materialises beyond you;
that it follows the path
the very way you
imagine it?

And have you ever felt utterly ALIVE in that
frantic millisecond of uncertainty?

I have.

You play your rhythms
Soft and sweet
Others play a heavy drum beat

Words written
In a lyrical style
Creating an album
May take a while

Some we can relate
Others we can't
Many get us irate
Or else they enchant .

"When i fell in love with you. I fell for it all. The cracks in your world. The smile on your face. I fell in love with your past and your passions. I saw the beauty through your eyes, and I have seen the pain."

Lured by the hypnosis,
Of her exothermic beauty,
He loved close to her chest,
Wedded her to love his best.

She liked him liking her,
And locked him in her heart,
Looked at him for soul-mate,
And purge out from stalemate.

Later, his love lubricated most in lust,
His lust precipitated least in love,
Lasting lust overtook love at first sight,
Endothermic, she endured her plight.

Dreamed, dipped and delved deep,
To the crest in the crucible of lust,
He melted his life soon in its spring,
And left a frozen load of off-spring.

Looped in the friction of ***** life,
She craved to be out of cage of strife,  
And live with her loving children,
To explore and enjoy true love of life.