It never stops hurting.
That hole he left.
Everyone says it takes time..
..that I’ll feel better eventually.
But I won’t.

It never stops hurting.
That ache in my chest.
There’s a feeling like so much was left unsaid.
But in reality, it still would have happened.
He stopped loving me.

How do you move on?
From the person you can’t, or don’t want to, live without.
How do you move on?
When all you want to do is go back in time.

It never stops hurting.
Don’t believe the well-meant lies.
There won’t be another special someone.
Not when all you see in others,
Are reflections of him

It never stops hurting.
And he’s in everything you see.
He’s in every thought, every memory, every song.
You want to feel whole,
but you never will.

How do you move on?
When all you want is his kiss again.
How do you move on?
When you can still imagine his ring on your finger.

It never stops hurting.
When you lose your other half.
And eventually you decide to just wait.
Hope he comes back.
Because you’re that pathetic.

It never stops hurting.
No matter how many pills you pop.
No matter how many calories you drop.
No matter how many scars you carve.
It never stops hurting.

So why bother trying to get better,
when it never stops?

There are a few of us out here
Browsing through deep canopies
Where the stars linger on our breath -
Like dew on a log.
There are a few of us out here
Blazing trails that discontinue in the fog
Where love is made, and blankets unfurled
Like knee patches, worn
By the miles

And miles

And miles.

The willowy woman,
clad in a red, red sari,
that makes her look like
a challenge  so difficult to meet,
in an imagined island of her own,
enveloped by thick whiskey vapor,
sitting on a bar stool,  precariously
in an attention catching posture,
complicates the prospects
of my white night, getting dense,
as the moon beams start to peep down,

I intuitively sense
from my table afar.

I am inward  looking silence,
but why did her voiceless shouts of
frequent glances, come in search of  me,
as if i am wanted in her court, for some mysterious purpose.
Like a curious  fish,  that swim around pecking and tasting
something she has got interested, in her underwater world,
her eyes roam, so far to my lonely  corner, a sea **** filled depth.

This busy bar has an inner silence
i realize every time i enter  here,
i often get the feeling,
that Buddha sits somewhere and meditates
in disguise, i am all eyes,
let me surprise him
before he decides to tell this secret,
-i am almost sure
in my ear.

I expect this to happen,
for a while now,
this bar is esoteric, conceals many things
though darkness concentrates and celebrates
as often as it could,its motif is  gleaming white
-reminds me the  thousand petaled lotus
and it makes my consciousness tingle,
even in tumult, like two hands protecting
a flame against the wind's onslaught,
this bar preserves its silence.

Every time I get in, it embraces me
like i was a  long lost prodigal child.

Moonlit night brings  mystical moments,
the universe has so much to communicate,
the galaxies distant,  resonate with silent symphonies
eternity conducts only  for the ears that hear without  a sound,
the consciousness is all ears and listens like a child in its cradle,
straining its ears for mother's lullabies.
Enhanced by the bar's background music
i was getting  immersed in a conversation with the moon,
rising above the sea of  undulating coconut palms.

She sat alone shouting orders,
an unknown landscape,
an island melting in to sea,
none could reach without,
a boat that could cross rapids,

She sat with an imaginary baton,
imagining she conducts with perfection,

Fighting rough waters
seemed nothing new to her,
' haven't i weathered many
cyclones, day and night?'
she wordlessly proclaimed.
Four gentle men on bar stools near her
busy finding their own wonderlands,
though fascinated,
with their combined  body language indicated,
'she doesn't belong'

Forced to break my cocoon,
i hear,
          -you drinker of distilled silence,
          -lover of primrose moon
my white night
was taken over,
by this dark cloud
that wanders many skies,
'lend me your time
and those patient ears' she whispers
'if you don't know my mother'

No mother should become a shackle to her daughter,
fathers should be the key syllables* to liberate children seeking their own distant  sun

Here she goes-
taking me along to the road of her past,
dodging shadows of
a mother, wayward.

-men are cowards they never accompany me all the way-
i hear she secretly wail; who cares about self inflicted pain?

the hood of darkness
stood behind her
framing her face and mind.
i let her walk, run and feel free like a peacock
that badly wanted to see a dark cloud to feel  the mood to dance
a wild dance it was, untill
I said,
'do you see the army of ants, that are behind,
feeding on the dead,
that want to hunt you down?'

She didn't seem to hear
or anywhere near the mood
not to dance.
                                                          ­                                         UOIOIOIOU

Under the bruises there's a smile fading
There's a girl who's waiting
to show her colors
...
You just wait and see
Everything she'll be

She smelled
camphor and wonder,
my wet hands caressed
the fruits i wished to plunder,
mind transcended
to clouds and whispers,
falling incessently like a pleasant rain
drenching us , till we can ask for no more.

Her lips were
soft waves sent by
the sea of tranquil night
that nibbled  the shores,
little by little.
Her lips on my lips created
a myth, of a land of happiness
which before my eyes became real,
i found my inner pains have
completely vanished,
we were consumed by a pleasure,
that was full of nocturnal vigour.

What would you do
when,  ***** are on fire?
we were in hunger,
she said, we would build a slow fire,
and make our pulsating veins dance
around it, till every hunger is  fully satiated.
I found this dance  so tantalizing,
she was in fits of pleasure, surging
from the  deep centre
that kept on erupting.

It seemed our bed had  swift moving wings,
she swung up above me
a bird ******* honey from a flower
hovering  over it, on her wings,
her alacratic moves
made her look like an acrobat
perched on top,
the  journey was across time and
we lost all awareness of place,
she moaned her mantras,
pleasure seeker's chants,
to attain the higher reaches of the peak,
faintly visible.
We came swimming though
the turgid waters,with  an urgency
rarely known.

The hands of raising sun
was feeling our bed,
i looked up to see what happens
the night has stealthily left,
early morning light mischevious
peep through the window
to see us lying
in each other's hands

Then again,
we saw the sun a perfect red ball
falling down, to drench us in purple rain
we ran after it , amorous spirit
still glowing inside,
and at that moment we heard
melodies within our bodies.

Dear Uganda, listen.

For we have heard your cry.

Our voices have been building,

the end is now in sight.


We know that he has taken,

those born from your own womb.

His sick mind is making kids

grow up much too son.


They're stolen from their beds,

a silent crime at night.

Invisible children marching,

now soliders made to fight.


With over 30 thousand taken,

how can we stay blind?

The place where you are born,

shouldn't decide if you live or die.


Our soliders there on foot,

it's time to spread his name.

Kony thinks he's winning

but we're about to change the game.


Africa please have hope,

for in this you're not alone.

Joseph Kony will.be.stopped.

You're children will be made known.

is it
         that the winter nights are so long
that has me sitting
here, before the window
looking out at the stars

or, watching the deer
          sneak up on the
     dried stalks of Desdemona
that keeps me
awake
so late at night

or, maybe,
it is you, there, thinking of me,
here
that keeps me awake
     so very late
into the night

My lingering fire has failed to consider the ruin.
It has raged an Hour past all Hope... As Providence evaporates -
Long before the Landscape is visible to Angels descending.
My annihilation is complete and yet -
I cannot be Undone !
I Persist in Flames, my Vacuum is Defied !
And what Sorrow comes to understand
Can only be described as The Soul. However vanquished -
I am not Consumed...
Merely swallowed whole.
Impervious to the Luxury of Death.
Though my Inferno has no Talisman.

Instead
A Terrible Will is at Work -
Renaming Constellations
To Suit my Astronomy

Is All.