Did I dream
I saw a funeral
Procession leaving
St. Giles Church?
Sans caisson,
Black horses,
Boots and  backward spurs;
No black feathers,
No armbands,
No Oliver's crocodile tears;
No Orleans trumpets
To allay my eternal fears.
I caught them slide
The silver casket,
Bullet-like,
Into a chamber,
To shoot into the ground.
I never heard a sound.

he wandered in to her light,
darkened by her broken desires.
since then he only preferred
darkness, pure unadulterated!
darkness coiling within light
denies it's truce inner motives
gives a bad twist to the light.

For both partners, in a protracted dance, out of step, for long time,
it was creativity, at the best in the destructive mode,they are well versed,
like in a music record, cacophonous,their marital discord did manifest,
was made to look,an art form, instillation like, with many possibilities.

You message me in tired morse code,
Now a sort of quaint, ancient art.
I certainly love the pattern of sounds,
But lost the translation key forever.

Thousands of doors are going
To open Today
After a Long Day
Of Sultry Dark
Slowly moving Clouds
But what it is!
As if the speed of the wind more than
A Hurricane

Extreme sound Rocking the Sky,
The Home
And the Expanding
Barren Field,  
Repeatedly being Thunder Around
As far as I can See
Across the Horizon
The Rain has come down
As Cats and Dogs
 
Dim Light in the Room
Hope, despair shaken
Windows Open
Southern waves
Randomize the Poetry Books
Flying Pages,
Never before or after in the

The Scent of the Poetry
In the Air
Sky-word Sentences
I have seen my Reflection
In the Light of the Short
The past Knocking
On the Closed Door
To open the Wide Sky

You have sat down
In the Horizon
That has reminded
The First Love Poem
Where I read
And planted my Dreams
Bringing the garden
Roses,
Marigold,
Sunflowers

Where there the moonlit
Of moonlight has
Crafted the Dreams  
Like an Imagination
As if,
Unclogging Peacock's Feather

But the sudden wind  
Increasing the Velocity
Light has been Extinguished
Yet the Flame Alive
But don't see my Reflection,
In the distant Glass,
In the Poetry,
In the Words

In an Angular way,
Through the Windows
Rain coming into the Limelight
Put away the Poetry
And the Dreams
As the Books of Poetry has Seemed
Like the Stones

But Yet I'm waiting,
For The Next morning
Where the Hope will Come Again
In the Shining Smile of Light

Reading  from it's book of absurdity, for you and me is a daily routine,
do I  get conditioned to meekly accept life's brutal reality you ask me
Even on a bed of burning coal, I've seen dancers amaze with alacrity,
I fight back those slings and arrows with the sheer verve of my poetry.
From  lonely walks, through inner paths every time I return smiling
my golden retriever faithfully follows with the day's happy find.

I decided that, I would like to be a radio woman,
With the accelerator on my foot,
The right,
And mike on my left.
Blaring aloud,
A beetle bug motor-bee,
To sway and jingle over the traffic
Of the whole world
In a Tea’s Daze;
Blaring it aloud, to the supposed society,
The majority,
To it,
To the Together,
Aloud,
With a resurrected rebellion,
Howl all my cramps off,
Sans the punctuality, morality
And ethics.
And, free it all within a session,
A million worth of cramps sediment,
Waiting to sneak into the coffin for my afterbreath,
Just, free ‘em all, Whenever I feel it.
Aloud. Lucid. And, Crisp.

Quiet and demure night
one finds out by chance
is sleeping peacefully
on the same bed,
covered by a grey blanket
the sultry day too seeks after,
the tribulations a day long.
One would think that
smug and complementing light
for her is an anathema, is it?
But now it comes to light,
he is more like her paramour,
this face she keeps hidden
so audaciously, the unabashed
adulteress has no sense of shame
"When you imagine things,
take responsibility to it,
don't try to blame others"
You'd hear her murmur,
the long clandestine affair of
darkness to light, takes me
to where it all began..
will there be diversity
that enriches life without contrast?
The Himalayas should
sincerely thank ocean trenches..

The time of night, mid
   It was dark
          She was drunk
The ***** was cheap
   She'd fallen into a nightmare
            Of her own dreams
        And she was in way too deep
Death was at her doorstep
    And the promises she made
             She could no longer keep
   She weeped into the bottle
Then drank some more
       Time was of the essence
    Yet, the past came back to haunt her
            Just like before
      Too much to handle
For their sake
          She handles it everyday
     "Resilience" they say
  But she's a fake
          Weak and ashamed
     How did she get this way?
Those ghosts of memories that
          never faded away
  On that night
     She lost complete control
              And the roses
Were dead and rotting
          Just like her *soul