I can't write like you do
I can't really compose
Grace has always eluded me
In movement and in prose

You write of such big things
But they are still all the same
Me? I can't really toy
With ideas so insane

I'm not a professional wordsmith
My art hasn't been trained
When I write, the words flow easy
Unabashed and Untamed

You and your words are sculpted
Precisely, with finesse
But with a subdued gloss and lack luster
So twisted so suppressed

And now I see my dear self
Finally in a clear way
Not in my movements or in the glass
but on my inked page

So if you ask me, dear self
Which cage do I choose?
I'd choose my dented brass one
Instead of your golden noose.

First line says it all
Second line says more
Third line is a little different
Forth line makes you sure

Fifth line takes you places
Sixth line has never seen
Seventh line is hasty
Eight line is a little obscene

Ninth line grasps the tone of Eight
Tenth line will make you blush
Eleventh line will stop and pause
Twelfth line will fall into the hush

There may be a thirteenth
or fourteenth or fifteenth line
a sixteenth or seventeenth
that might have left you blind

An eighteenth line that made you yawn
A nineteenth that made you smile
A twentieth that made you stop
reading for a while

A twenty first or twenty second
that commanded you go back
to the start

Or a twenty third and
twenty forth line
was what grabbed your heart

The twenty fifth line
undid all your beliefs
The twenty six line
walked down old streets

The twenty seventh and twenty eighth
crossed paths that were parallel
The twenty ninth and thirtieth line
knows stories it will never tell

Yet only the first line is read
the last line is the lie
that forces all the other lines
to just sit idly by

I turn to ashes, but I still
burn bright, embers ignite
once burnt and used up.

Now these ashes that are me
once again ignite, they thought
me just ashes no longer of use.

At the bottom while others were
thought to be burning bright, but
tonight I was ashes, but now I
burn brighter than those above.

Reborn never to be extinguished,
I am ashes but I still burn bright.

Her poetry was like a living  organism
that changes form  every minute
by the chemical change it undergoes
within me, the reader's mind,
each avatar did a dance different
so much  the symbols and cryptograms spoke
right from time capsules of subconscious,
I had to choose from this or that.
I looked deep in to her eyes and read silently
words, one feels are severely limited, at times
much goes unexpressed for want of words
"exquisite" in such occasion is an expression
that has lost its sharp edges, due to overuse
so i smiled, I hope  in a way most expressive
of the spirit the poem reflected
but  more was in the poem, I sure felt,
beyond my view, some  hidden pathways exist
my ears craved for hidden voices, and I told her this
evening set the stage for her recitation
we walked the country road and she began
very solemn at first, then the words took
a life of their own and became palpable
I felt I was in presence of an oracle
who receives divine command from universe
a spirit that sprung from subconscious
was heard speaking in her throbbing words
the folk walking the path stood and listened,
the look on those faces were unmistakable
a knowing  beyond the  meaning it was.

A poet's heart has called to me
Beckoning, I come willingly
A soul so open I can see
The imperfections
Reflecting mine in harmony
Shining reflection

So bare and raw from years of pain
Scorched from all the dragons slain
Still, a peaceful core remains
With hopeful of laughter
Seeking love without disdain
For ever after

Through the blood poured on a page
Soaked from all the tears of rage
Gathered wisdom of a sage
The words are calling
Freeing birds from in a cage
No fear of falling

To the Scribe:  I offer you
An honest soul to shelter you
There is nothing left for you to do
Your words have won me
Wounds have healed, and hearts renewed
Bestowed upon thee

So take my humble offering
Hold it close and hear it sing
Perhaps some very special things
We'll brew together
As souls are tied upon a string
Forever tethered

With words so strong to pull me in
Bleeding tears right through the skin
Boring passion deep within
We have united
Lovers heat burns oxygen
Through words requited

I love him.
But secretly I adore you.

We are different.
But you and me are parallels.

He is complex
But you just understand.

He is all style
But you are substance.

He is all facts
But you are creative.

I don't know what do to.
But I know I'm lying.

Across the river in the woods
she met the white tiger;
she wished to surrender
the opposite was his desire.

the moment i see him 'up front'
my poor heart goes thud thud thud
my face hurts with the rush of the blood
excited, elated, jubilant and thrilled

what should i do? my breath I hold
should i say hi and risk being ignored
should i wait for him to take the lead
either way, leads to an uncertain road

i keep staring, and my mind takes a ride
the long journey we already had passed
full of mirth, yearning, conversations myriad
the affair he instigated and we both shaped

i start or he start, both happy and glad
when on the same wave length and band
unhappy when busy on the receiving end
longing and craving for the merry contentment

on days i don’t see him, my heart sinks to the end
the day becomes a chore, gets longwinded
can’t help wonder if the feeling is reciprocated
my unsaid want for him and his desires confessed

today, now, i see him and i hide as a coward
why? need reassurance he is not playing with my mind
whatever. i crave his words, his jokes and his touch
ethereal it is! but better than the real world

evoke his image & that’s all the reassurance i need
i go back to the page. click! & i’m a green dot
the mere gesture turning my face red
with excitement, ecstasy, thrill, & delight

I need you to love me like I'm wounded
In the darkness of my insecurities
hold me, kiss me, touch me,
fill my hollow organs with the shadows of your light.

You are the one and only fluorescent thought,
still alive at the night of my lost soul,
the life giving breath I borrowed through
your mouth, when I chocked and went down,
while swimming in the turbulent rapids of life.

Red glowing ember you are, that warms,
my soul in the winter of  unimaginable freeze
my daily dose of sun's purple beams
at the moments of dawn after a long night,

your moist, warm, soft feminine flesh,
raise and fall in such precision, with every beat,
and when I hold my breath, I hear,
both of our names spoken in the lingo of goose bumps,

You are the joy of discovery after
wandering through an arid desert
an oasis full of, green orchards,
you are the peaches and the apple
I want to steal, just to keep with me,
smelling and petting,
                                    never even would
think of peeling, relishing the taste,
I 'd never ever attempt,
to bite it little by little,  and consuming