Who knows  tomorrow
The window will be there
To see such expanse of sky
In your greyish eyes
Blue shadows of invitation
For a nest of peace
In the window blinds
And behind
A crimson indulgence
In raising ripples
People are born
To live for
And adore
Such windows
Of beauty and joy
The only support
Amidst the convoy
Of blood  and sweat
Of terror and threat
On green grass
In Las Ramblas

Who knows
Another yellow rose grows
Tomorrow too
Let's celebrate therefore
At the window door
Some life in exuberance
Some moments of fragrance
And then silently lie
Under the now violet expanse
Of the abundant sky
The wind blows cool and slow
Oranges in the window

sitting here but not
my insides
       in a twist
my organs blooming,
their flower landscapes
rising in my solar plexus
like poetry expanding
its cellular shapes
into
        light frequencies
I need way more.
I need the pulling off
      and stripping down
of souls
I need to meet in
a depth of falling
I need to be pushed off
the silent gates of madness
into endless sea
no looking back
senses piqued
from slightest brush
of oral butter pouring
on hot cream
my mouth, a searing
crimson wound
oscillates in
contraction radar pulses
ripe for intense
tongue exploration
         aching to be filled up with
your distinct flavor
My essence molecular is
overflowing with fluid
giving me life
in throbbing, raw
electric vibes
whipped organic, in
                 rolling tides
Somewhere, out there
                  our volcanic impulses
                          meet in steamy ebbs
                     and send energyflow
to a new and ancient universe,
magnetic
and I am
a raging heaven's child
      wrapped in
           a tight little
              tourniquet
     blood pumping
through these veins
             my longing for
                 dark stretches
   of intimate caresses
to soothe
  the spikes
      of snaking pain
Give me
those airwaves that
let me breathe freedom
into the fields of our skin
Let me run like wild herds
of the animal within

and as I find myself
hanging off
my
      own
  edges
my many-braided loops
         in zigzag split,
a-fray
my skin rips open,
parting fibers
that expose my
very
      DNA
helix swivel
     undulation
hips grinding into
                     soul
reaching in to
pull out
fresh rebirth
from between my folds
O help me to allay
this tender affliction
undo me, already
so I lose control
one little shove
and I am over the cliff
deep into ocean
**** over spliff
I am beyond ready
so grind it to the hilt
Give me your
tender-ripped heart,
spill your honeycomb milk

I am here, ravenous
in the pan
uncooked yet ripe
saliva and breath
steaming my own innards
flushing out strife
I am piquant hot pepper
ready to be broiled
my blood is already
                             boiling
my tender meat oiled
mull me over
in your oral cavity
like sacred wine
until I drip
through your bones
and down your spine
Just meld with me
                        and flow
into that light tunnel
of dark time and space
so I can stake out
my rhythms
and claim
      my
new
sacred
      place

A broken jar
I fixed when fell
From a far
No one can tell

A broken heart
I tried to fix
But part by part
It all got mixed

A birds feather
I tried to catch
It blew off further
In the thorn patch

A child's cry
Weakened my soul
I went close by
His leg stuck in a hole

A set of painful eyes
Watched me through
An angel in disguise
Yes, that's true

I am quite broken
But I am strong
I am not a token
Don't take me wrong

My love is in my smile
Like a tombstone on a grave
I think for a short while
Then just smile and wave...


©sim

You should write more
Not so contrived
Just under florescent light
Be honest with yourself
A pen name unsaved
Write a song
recite a sonnet
Start on haiku
Just tell them it’s you
Good rhyme
Maybe stay unnamed
Its easier this way
Focus on your book
Finish those lyrics
Find who you are
Forget all your friends
Fight all those demons
Or just stay you.

===================================
You met and now meet me again In thunder, lightning, and rain
You comfort me by bringing water to clear my wounds and stain

Your heart and my heart are very old friend like the Father and a son
I live the life well, you gave me, God! You may judge what I have done?

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~

I don't finish
Drawings
I'm too afraid
To mess up
The things I love