There is a heavily barred chamber between,
the bitter end of reality and the dream gone dark,
she was locked up there with a window open
to the nightmare created with marvelous illusions.
with a start, she saw little angels with clipped wings
looking out through the gaps of barbed wires
of a window, more of a hole on the wall, on the top floor.

They looked too young, trapped, blooming buds,
and they started to wave wildly at her, perhaps
thinking she could somehow help, take them out,
she felt dazed, as if a poison arrow hit her chest,
everything was dipping in dark, didn't look good at all,
felt like crying, she remembered, tears dried up, long before

from a safe distence seeing all this he felt crying out loud,
but didn't forget, he is only a butterfly, with fragile wings.
a girl with painted lips, he noticed was blowing a kiss
to a man in the balcony, perhaps.he didn't clearly see
his face, but why such affection, they didn't look like lovers!

The setting sun, he thought was fiercely crying,
with, heat , light and deepening shadows, that dance,
her eyes, indolent, fixed on a flower bed, a girl was
talking to her lover boy"Äll good things in life dwindle"
as if suggesting it's all over once and for all between them,
close by sitting on  a tired flower, preparing to close,
the butterfly saw the swarms of bees of night, approaching.

Not all for the story books, to engrave in letters of gilt,
to read out loud to the grand children, with curious eyes
in quiet evenings with a sense of magic, satisfaction,
nor for keeps as a precious find, dear heart forget it,
don't taunt for the pain endured on long sleepless nights,
some bring smiles, silly flings, copious  tear shed,
too searing on those times, a cut across the heart
is what most concealed as if  one thinks, let bygone be bygone,
it doesn't matter,soon will be forgotten, for ever
but in fact that blood letting wound, persists
even as  time flies it turns back suddenly and stings
hard like a venomous scorpion, vengeful
and that pain in the heart increases,comes to visit
like a deceased friend, every day, in an appointed hour
at the dead of night, still craving the company
of those alive, to make grief their constant companion.

1.
Eyes, eager fish, in deep Himalayan blue, splash and swim
the ultramarine sky of the mind, gets color coordinated, in resonance
wind from across the ranges, incessantly chant  guttural "Öm"
gently spreads waves, that on ears, vibrate as music,divine
our feet get liberated from mind's control,  the trek becomes us.
2.
Eyes now, turn swifts, fly to the valley extending to horizon,
teeming with flowers of every hue, profusion of orchids,
rolling white clouds above,create *tantric patterns
of grace, swirls, swoops,scoops, somersaults,the trek goes on.
3.
Melting ice, fits well on the conical brown mountain tops,
a white bodice, perfect cover for her lovely peaks,
angular mounts gleam in the limitless avalanche
of light, an impulse for benediction is palpable.
4.
Simple folks of village, on the way side
in flowing colorful dresses *****, tall poles
festoons of bright colors, joyous prayer flags   flutter in wind
proclaims festive spirit, they vigorously wave.
5.
Now heart overwhelms, sings the paeans of
a sky that changes it's face from blue to white
and sometimes, a hue so bleak, deep gloom,
on red brown earth, sun light prances around.
6.
The grass bed then transforms quick,
mind drinks the dense benediction peace brings
that coils inside the soft blue waves, beating within and out
7.
Himalayan blue has taken us in to it's embrace
bird songs ring along the path of ancient sages,
who went in to the forest abode to contemplate, never returned,
became one with the hum of cosmos, they walk within us.

Winds brought her smell on the Broken Hill
it stirred a butterfly somewhere inside me
danced my **** to get her skin’s feel
grab her impale her ride her merrily!

But she looked scared the few times she saw me
kept moving away at quickened pace
in her hazel eyes seemed written boldly
in the stream haven’t you seen your face!

I had no notion of love but a void of pain
that sighed as the winds’ moan on Broken Hill
her laughter with her guy of a clan alien
made my hands itch to go for the ****!

But I refrained for the yawning difference
sensing I could never be her match perfect
the way she walked to me made no sense
she was taller and strangely more *****!

She is a succulent bunch,let me be helpful,
if you don't get the complex chemical scent,
I call her ,"a girl of unpredictable
meeting places"inotropic, is her effect,
She sends heartbeats way up.
Delectable too, she was, every time
I tasted certain parts of her.
Her avatars are numerous, like Hindu Gods
With specific  intention for each incarnation
Onee will be pushed in to neurosis,
if doesn't completely relish her infinite variety.
She is a cryptic mystic,
for a while  from signals
I discerned and firmly believed
Or is she just a  creature mysterious
Doubt raises it's head, like a lotus
From slushy pond
My eyes met her at the level of  her eyes first,
the rest in a haze to me was invisible,
Then my heart sends a message
"Right now, I missed a beat here"
Heart then recites a poem,
tells me, it is all her making
"Don't fall in love" heart's advice,
"Go, dissolve in her completely"
Even my own heart has crossed sides,
or is it truly an advice for my sake?
Love is a hallucinogen, get it?
she whistles like wind at bamboo groves
from within sings like a thrush,
she is a magpie, or is she a koel?
Nocturnal animal, in need of mating,
making calls, frantic SMS, incessant.
She is wind and water, elements
that make one burn and drown
She spreads her yoga mat on the floor,
asks me to sit cross legged Indian style,
I am already for that in my mind,
So I spread eagle in corpse pose, indicating, "All through my life", mother earth gives me warmth.
          Shanti,   Shanti,   shanti

The wind, swooping down the hills,
through the deciduous forests
lustily hiss,  the beat of the drum
they both hear above that sound, puzzles,

was it her heart or his, both perhaps
they pretend not to hear
They fell in to the spell of the lake
eerily rippleless,  for the moment.
The luscious curves, of lake,still was swelling
in his brooding psyche.
He hasn't make up his mind,
though much bewitched by this witch,
yet persisting doubts ask,
take a step forward or to turn back
the cool breeze that caressed the curves
now the lake revealed, embraced her from behind,
she snuggled bit closer to him
her body twitched in a way suggesting
that she'd expect such a prank from him.

She sat as if frozen to touch in another time
it was getting late,the persistent witch
would she be smelling blood,
the hills show a dark face,
she looked up for the moon's solace.
alarmed he perked his ears,
did he hear the howl of a lone wolf?

Cross legged
sitting in lotus pose
she blushes,swells
a white lotus
before the rising sun.
Palms are pressed
together in front
in a "Namaste"
to the divine, present
in everyone.
He is now just
some other, no special
eyes while closing tell.
How 'yoga' with the
higher self could  exclude
amour's special privilege?
Adamant to reclaim it
between  points of twin buds
his eyes vacillate,
her eyes closed shut, still
moves, lids peel a bit
lips curl and sent a hiss
like a hearty exhale
it sounded "decedent"

On the water's edge
a stork in meditation,
reality faces illusion.
 
Under water fish
peck at stork's reflection
reality tastes illusion.
  
Flying stork's shadow
swims on water plane
in competition, fish chase.

Night sky over Paris, doesn't speak starry love tonight
intimate soul, maker of my spirit's whole,
Paris would love to hold close to it's broad heart,
didn't we elope through the Metro tunnel
of experiences,then I made you wear my coat
to protect you from winter cold, hid you
in the cozy interior of my memory well lit,
where you wait on a hope, unsuspecting
losing all sense of time.Still at Arc de Triomphe ,
I  wait for the train that never comes, I suspect
you are a prisoner, in the urban jungle of La Defense
beyond the lonely whiteness of Grande Arche
time the marauder comes in without knocking,
he must have took you away, none will know when
the tunnel of our experiences, once we knew are bare
I'll be going alone soon in a dark train to nowhere
where are you, where are you, my voice chokes and fail

"Can't take my eyes off yours"
not withdrawing their gaze
wordlessly he and she muse
without batting an eyelid

"Ḧer eyes are a shade of blue  rarely seen ever"
he thinks, before words could charm her
she finds this" Ÿou've the eyes of a girl,
every girl that dates you, I am sure
would note it first" Isn't she right?
Öne girl knows another's heart better
then, do men stand a chance?" he wonders

"But there is a soft wave beating in the depth,
of those eyes" she softly confides
Ït arrests me,  can't take my eyes off
..is it kindness or love, or both?"
a welling within happens, he was debating just that,
but how, just how  does she know it?

"Ẅhat would you take first ?' he puts it back
  " If I offer you both?"
she smiles saying "I know what"
Close by they sit, heat permeates
from thigh to thigh, isn't it nice?" eyes probe
"Let that beam of light I see, fall straight
in to my eyes, let's burn together"

He shuts his eyes and remember
the camphor lights, soft on eyes
and oil lamps on temple walls,
flames that dance like hooded serpents
he feels the heat of her swelled up lips,
fitful bees hovering above his mouth.