The day comes
and quickly goes
would it be joys?
no one knows

But be steadfast in hope
let love fill your heart--be strong-
evening sets in and night descends
the day is well-lived and is your cherished song

How I long for those teenage days
patiently I did write and post
my letters and postcards -
replies received---times happier than most.

But the Internet
has dampened our hearts and sentiments
the cold piece of machine faces and mocks us
forever lost our halcyon moments

The mariners are asleep
silence reigns over the distant hill
the sea has lost its rage
every wavelet lies serene and still.

Echoes of violin strains
are fading, fading away
receding, receding into the sombre night
the horizon looks like a blemished painting in misty grey.

The song has been sung
and the last note of the symphony
is sinking, sinking, dissolving, dissolving
gone, gone is the poignancy of every melody.

The poem has been written
of fresh themes the poet hopes to dream
he looks at the pale sky through the window
where neither the moon nor the stars shed a beam.

Heroes belong to myth
and history
the word
frightens me

Daily heroic acts there are
hidden from public view but clothed silently in sacrifice
who are my heroes?
my beloved parents as seen through my eyes

Poetry is in essence
right words in the right order
but
it shouldn't  stop there

there's more
infinitely more

distillation
of the heart's deepest joys
and sorrows

constellation
of all that springs from
and happens to the self
in all its myriad manifestations
and facets--
mysterious - multifold

for life is an endless roll
of the self
in motion
and action-

self-searching
self-evaluation
self-conversation
self-evolution
self-determination
(existentiali­stic recognition
that life would inexorably end
in extinction
more despair and ennui
than hope?
that's the question
to be addressed individually--
  each life is sacred and its own
and asserts its will to be
before it sinks into oblivion)

poetry is also
the articulation
of the beyond-self
the juxtaposition
alongside others
the intricate and delicate interplay
of relationships
the joys and angsts
that follow

while time watches on
and carries a whip
'hurry, hurry--I wait for none-
presto!'

and
destiny stares one
in the face
testing one's mettle
and endurance
at any time
in any place

the poet writes:
I am saved by words
by words alone
they are my salvation
my one and only vessel
which gives my life
a ring-tone
however faint
and makes me aware
I am still living

'de nihil, nihil fit'
from nothing
comes nothing
either I am something
or nothing-
with myself I've to wrestle
to deny that
I am nothing

even if a pale shadow
I'm still something
I'd not forego
my right to being
someone in the making
for life is living
and experimenting
over time
a process of becoming

and at the end of things
I'd know with every single feeling
I've not failed myself in the task of living
through the words of my poetry
that have given me every meaning

Wasteland of my heart
where no flowers grow
past glory has faded
splendour has ceased to glow.


In my youth
my heart was a lush green field
where birds came to rest and sing
love I planted and to its beckoning happily I did yield.

In my manhood years that came too soon
weeds insidiously crept in--smudge gathered
on the once fertile ground-
all the flowers withered

And all that's left
is this wasteland--parched and desolate-
that my weary heart
seeks to forget.

We keep running in our races
But we're going nowhere brother
When will we all face it
That we need each other

Red, Yellow,  Black, and White
Inside all the same
No matter light of day or dark of night
The family of man

Play the card of ignorance
Where hatred does abound
Loss of life and innocence
Never to be found

Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jew
What ever mold and make
I am here the same as you
All for heavens sake

I am not like you
And you are not like me
All special in our own rights
If I may speak truthfully

Gay, Straight, Trans, or Lesbian
However you play your song
We all sing the same tune of man
Why can't we get along

All the Nations have a notion
Of how to survive
If we take this any further
None will be left alive

The North, the South, the East, the West
Be it green or be it sand
We're all on this big blue ball together
All in the family of man

I had this dream tonight
Resting my head on a pillow
Waiting for my drunken sibling
In this dream it's Christmas eve
And the world is as it is
And i meet my girl
I mean the girl who was mine
Until she decided
To destroy my world
I meet my girl and she tells me
Through a crooked evil grin
It was all a joke
The tears, the argument,
My world's sad end
A cruel joke yes, but
What i know she wanted
Was the excitement in my eyes
When they saw the flames
Being put out
And all the lies
And terrible things were
False like the lightly dim night
And that is what happened
I shed a tear and kissed her
A hundred times or more
And in that moment
We were back together
That was the greatest gift of all
On a Christmas in my dream
And it's not even real
Is the saddest part
Not at all as real as it seemed

Can't you sleep
when the
sky crumbles

Tender, heavy, that
is happiness for
you. A nocturne

lies upon your
soul, moth which wings
clear as cakes of the

clown. Can't
you
sleep when

the
earth breaks for
your

body, light
and
swollen

is a girl
shining shy
Poured down the ground