1.
Quite far you are,know not where, time and space remain fused,
But, our love is still a wild flower, that takes new avatars
Fully bloomed, defies sun and rain,other vagaries of seasons,
This love is beyond the thrills of flesh, not even nocturnal togetherness.
To plant a kiss of love on your lips,the wind will be my messenger,
With a gentle caresses  you will be reminded how my lips felt on yours,
In reciprocation, with your scent wind would envelop me on return.
2.
Our love has faced many harsh climes, still we persisted,
Fallen down and walked again limping, long distances,
Our love has martyr's blood  running through veins,still brave, sings
The song we loved, not together, a new light our love had found.
Beyond the point of togetherness,love is indestructible, defying logic.
3.
My flesh and blood would wither away,yours too have the same fate,
Your beating heart and mine,one day will embrace stillness.
Love has to live beyond the tunes of heart beats and our lives.

In wind and water, earth and fire, all over the vastness of space,
Millions would come together,in life, in death, sing love's paeans

once
i sat alone at a civil war battlefield
in a picnic shelter
at dusk in the fading light.
i sang old songs
to amuse myself.
my voice is not golden
but there was no one
to annoy.
i noticed
at the far end of the shelter
the faded out shape
of a man
standing
and then another
and another.
there must have been
a dozen in the end.
i suppose
it had been
a goodly number of years
since the old soldiers
had heard a woman
singing.
i sang all the old songs
i knew.
the sound of a car
and headlights
diverted my attention
when i looked back
the company was gone

I swear,
I was laying in bed this morning
minding my own business.
Letting the children get themselves
ready for school
and intent
on falling back asleep for a little while.
And in-between
the text messages
and the phone calls
came a hug
from someone I couldn't see.

I sent out a panicked message or two.
Tell me that you are okay
so I don't have to worry.

I swear,
it wouldn't be so bad
if the invisible
would just leave a calling card.

standing in line
at the funeral home
back where i grew up

waiting for someone
to pay respects
to the dearly departed

i heard the young
dead woman gloat
a little

pleased with the plethora
of flowers and throws
and angel figurines

and the long line of mourners

and the way
her ***** looked
in the shirt she wore

she thought
and i'm not paraphrasing much
that 'she looked pretty good
for a dead girl'

i used to think
that we left this world
and stepped into angel wings

but now i know
we cannot be
what we haven't been

Alas! Cupid
Laziness doesn't suit you
Do something,will you?
Seek the universe
To find my soulmate
Lose yourself if you must
Valentines comes and goes as he pleases
He is bored with my singleness
What now Cupid?
Your arrow must be bitter
I'll write you a honeyed haiku
I'll write you a sweet sonnet
To refuel your magic
Then you'll find love for me

From the nature of what we ignorantly hail as comparative commerce,
To the stacks of dollars you keep in upscale apartment buildings,
Will you get past your own facade of money and public persona
In looking inward, at calloused soul,
Seeking judgment of what bears true value...

When Shkreli is dead,
There will still set puppet senators,
Spewing the filth which is evil and sponsored—
Regurgitating paid claims from which he too cut his teeth.

When along the life cycle does one lose their soul,
And if that's where you draw the conclusion that you're a man,
I'll conscientiously object from your vision of mankind.

The sun sets of empires, and you do not have one.
I don't have your wealth,
But both of us are sure to die,
Both slaves to fate,
Nothing left to buy out.

On the genesis of your ashes, your sins will not die with you.

In memoriam, only a kid who liked to play devil,
Just not as good at it as he thought.

Sort of like a phantom limb
I can feel her
Even though I know she's gone

Sort of like the summer wind

Sort of like an old best friend
I haven't seen
In way too long

She's sort of like a phantom limb
The pain of loss
I deal with again and again

The pain of loss
Knowing I can never win