I wandered lonely with my silly thoughts
In the depth of my physic mind
I heard laughter; I felt their pain

The crowd jumps over obstacles
Naked, green and unapologetic, they scatter
Those curious eyes, those silence viewers

My audience and my critics I must indeed say that
A poet’s mind seeks shelter, from the addicted past
Feeding off the water-main black ink fumes

Composing their thoughts on old brown paper
Closing in: on innocent bystanders
Before they yield to the power of the unknown

So many magazines, clips, circling freely in the hands of evil
so much times to take down the innocent bystanders
We have to wondered on who is in control of life and death?

He seldom bring me flowers
But once a year a dozen red roses
For each month he missed out
~
He never smiles,
unless there was a touch down
I used always made him a cup of herbal tea
whenever, he came to town

However, I on the other hand always smile,
without a reason: it was him and I at that moment
I asked him one or two lumps
I really miss the old chum

He doesn’t bring me flowers anymore
instead they sprung up from his grave in the air:

Some of us let the summer month’s gets to your head
As we feel the heat we become one with nature
Naked, green and unapologetic,
a kind of trend which most people follow,
and hard for the some of us to swallow

Like all other things the summer heat can
Make the darkest man visible, the sleaziest worm
Crawl to the surface, for a dark tan
But it surely cans nectar the honey for  the Gods
Fall is upon us, as our joints began to ache,

Halloween is a drawing near,
Am I the only one whose seem to care?
The fly flies settle down under the broad leaves
And here I am the green poet from New York is visiting Tennessee

Those Hot summer bikini bodies, is now as cold as Niagara Falls  
We fret as we began to throw down, the last of the summer days
Creeping backs into our jean and Woolly Love Heart Jumper:

Suddenly, here come the hurricane months, September,
October and November all with they uncertainties
  
As I kept expressing my feeling into poetry,
With my frequent minds pop no matter how strange
Embrace them I probably will do the same.

I used to love his dark T-shirts
such that
words in my language turned into hieroglyphs
nor, cer, dor
there were some dreams about
myself as a she creature
who didn't know the difference
between body and soul
endings and beginnings
his blood was unstoppable
foretelling my future
oblivious of all the serious things
like deserted crossroads, eager pensions or
sand storms on Mars

he promised my death to me
like a haiku:
more core less sore
happy woman
poppies in the wind

I wish you'd say something;

I wish you'd say the words I'm dying to hear,

I wish we'd talk like we used to,

But we won't.

The more I try to push it,

All the more that I'll destroy it;

A friendship.

I don't even know if I mean anything at all to you.

I wish I do.

But that's a request near to never.

...we haven't even spoken yet.

Here's to hoping it won't **** me deep inside;

"...hey"
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*"√"

Dear Poet Friends, we are all born rich with plenty of time in our hands taking it for granted till old age arrives; when time begins to run out gradually going beyond our reach! Time is the only thing which we can never accumulate or save during our lifetime.  Yet each passing moment remains priceless like the effervescent dew drops of time! Kindly do read the short Notes below, which makes it easier to appreciate this poem you know! Thanks, -Raj

               TIME THE TRAVELLING GYPSY MAN
TIME you travelling gypsy man won’t you like to stay, and park
your magic caravan here just for a day?
You have been travelling without stopping through vast eons
of time,
Over the Tigress and the Euphrates Rivers, to the Valley of the
Nile;
Nile that longest river of the world, and Egypt’s life line.
Passing over ancient pyramids and the sphinx with raised heads.
To the Valley of the Indus where civilizations of Harappa and
Mohenjo- daro had once spread!
Across the Great Chinese Wall to visit the civilizations of
Mesoamerica; -
Those of the Ancient Mayans, the Aztecs, and the great Incas!
With your long flowing beard as white as snow,
You old gypsy man you surely require a rest you know.
Time you old gypsy man won’t you park here for a day,
Best of food and drinks and a bed of feathers, I have spread
out for your stay!

TIME the gypsy man with a wan smile replied, “Thanks for the
invitation my friend but I must decline, simply because I have
no time!
Since the Big Bang like an arrow I have started to flow,
I cannot stop now and forward I must go!
With your sundials, water clocks, and the hour glass,
You try to enslave me, but I shall always remain in a flux!
With your caesium atomic clock you accurately measure me out,
But weather I am real or illusory, there remains a nagging doubt!
But if ever mankind reaches that magical speed of light,
Only then I would appear to freeze and stop moving forward -
as time!
The only breather I get is inside the ‘Womb of Eternity’,
Where I keep pulsating and breathing before I can break free!
Then I am reborn as future time once again,
Like your Sisyphus I have been cursed never to rest my
friend!” *
                                                              ­                  -by Raj Nandy.
NOTES:
Speed of light is 186,000 miles per second. According to Einstein’s Theory of Relativity this speed can be reached only theoretically, but if reached, time would cease & the hands of the clock will stand still! Now should this speed of light be crossed, time will being to flow backwards.
Arrow of Time = Western concept of time is linear which moves forward like an arrow. The Hindu concept of time is cyclic, where time moves in a repeating cyclic motion. I have explained both these concepts in my ‘Introduction to Indian Art in Verse’, for those who may be interested.
SISYPHUS = In Greek mythology Sisyphus was punished for his greed & deceitfulness by being forced to roll an immense stone up a hill only to watch it roll back again, thereby forced to repeat this action for eternity!
*ALL COPY RIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR RAJ NANDY

The first bird (bard?) of the morn
I peeped into the salon.

Are you ready mate? I queried.

His eyes were ashes of night
and I doubted his mood.

I should be, he said
your hair is my livelihood.

Make it short I said
top bottom and the sides
and his scissors was Beethoven
soothingly rising and falling
making the sweetest sound
celebrating martyrdom of my hairs
resignedly falling on the ground.

But too soon it was over
and he held the mirror.

Wouldn't a little shorter be fine?

Nope, he smiled
considering your hairline
further recession would be a disaster.

I paid him buying his logic
and like a symphony
skimmed the air merrily.

The Sun spreads her words across a symphony
of color at the days end
Hoping her loving expression reaches the moon
and that it transcends

The moon slowly rises from the sea
Looking everywhere for his love is he
Calling across all time and space
Searching for his light and her beautiful face

The Sun lights up the big beautiful sky
He has witnessed this with his very own eyes
Her beautiful words are etched deep inside of me
Penetrating my core to the very existence she sees

Excited today is the day we will get our chance
We do not have to chase each other for that dance
We will dance all the way from the top of Mt Hood
To the bottom and beyond the Alabama Hardwood

We take each other to the depths of the unknown
Embracing what was meant to be together not alone
One brief moment he will trace my outline with his lips
Shadowing my body to make our very own Solar Eclipse