Too many secrets from my lover,
Too many actions that makes me cold,
Something new we always discover,
Baby this lifestyle is just too old,

We've crossed the beyond,
To be treated this way,
Was there ever a bond?
Why treat me this way?

We are both moving on,
After all we've done,
To be together as one,
You let another one- get us torn,

Now we say one last goodbye,
No need to try anymore,
And time's passing-by,
Can't bear the pain anymore,

I will be fine,
Was never meant to be,
For you to be mine,
Now clearly i see.

How do I keep tripping
Over something that is
So far behind me?

I want you,
Superman got you,
Will hold you,
Never leave you,
And that's true,
Will uphold you,
Never hurt you,
Will protect you,
A great view,
I adore you,
Never loose you,
Always find you,
You're my breakthrough,
So no issue,
We'll scale through,
We'll push through,
We'll have two,
Sarah and andrew,
That will do,
I love you.

Perhaps on an idle afternoon
when sadness lies heavy on chest
your eyes shimmering like crystal moon
upon my poems would come to rest.

Words of love and touching her shore
yearnings sharp as edge of knife
wrote my mind of twenty four
gathering all from a half seen life.

You flip the pages as years roll down
reach to where past high tides sailed
the ink flows soft as calm of dawn
in peace of void when heights are scaled.

You close the book breathing a sigh
your eyes are wet of misty dew
by then fallen twilight asks you why
the poet on the cover looks like you.

Dead heads stare from the wall

one can't tell if their glassy eyes
hold the relics of past life
or the sadness of having lost it
to the fires of royal pastime

tiger eyes look pathetically pleading
for re-stitching the stripes on the bones
leopard head growls only in anguish
of his spots being soft spot for target
the open jaws of the croc
can't still swallow the stuck bullet
awed eyes of deer is yet to sense
the muzzle that ruptured its innocence
the jackals, birds, langurs, civets
all frozen in the suddenness of the ***** out.

The hunter's head peeps from a dusty frame
having got his place of pride
among his game.

some nights
I dream of worlds
that must have come from childhood fairy tales

people work happily in various trades
politicians are actually fighting for their citizens
    to make life easier and more rewarding

skin color does not matter
    nor does religious orientation
a person’s character creates distinction

women don’t live in fear of getting *****
nobody is sold into slave labor or prostitution
education is of high quality and free
    from grade school to college
financed by affluent corporations
whose shareholders just get a bit less

when I wake up
I recognize
the dream was just a dream

our reality is different

(Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886)


I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –  
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –  
To an admiring Bog!

these days
looking around the globe
one might believe that we are travelling in time

just in the wrong direction

regression as progress
seems to be
the dominant notion of the day
creating wannabees in various disguises
     populist czars, sultans, nationalists, dictators,
     assorted self-appointed snake-oil salesmen
     and saviors of their peoples’ wealth and health,
trumpeting fences, walls, tough immigration laws,
etc., etc.  
to keep out all those aliens

     who otherwise are welcome
     as our partners in the global trade
     that seems to dominate the world of greed

so we can all be ourselves

     whatever that might mean

claiming to solve the problems of tomorrow
     with romanticized memories of yesterday
is hopeless and quite dangerous

do you remember
what that glorified past
actually was?