unbearable secrets
negotiating bearable truths as
                         day brakes in
                       everyday life of
                     rural experiments

         taken by the
huge momentum of lifes
            eventualities

               broken by the
        roughness of modern
         intellectuality as the
       devided forgetfulness
                                              grows­ into
elegant white memories

vacant mind keeping its distance in search for
answers without questions while living up to
gauzy expectations of peaceful endings to all
uneasinss as the duration of life elongates into
elements of squalidly uplifting surprises
---
or... daydreaming while waiting for the answers
to the questions that are cornered by squares
right down to the rectangeled circles of blue notes

in time for tea we continue our
meaningless progression towards
purple thoughts and deep blue
                                                     living as we grasp whatever sign of
intelligence around without the slightest of
colour while encouraging hope itself
as nothing is obvious to the naked eye but
                                                             ­          time as it slows to a near retreat
ignoring all common advice towards
openness as it lingers in the still of the
night hurling us into the dark away from
                            somewhere we should be but are not

watch words, words watched for,
for watching words, is not a chore,
if your paid to watch, not the shore,
or the land or the sky or a radar screen,
or even reruns of Ben Vereen,
toe tapping, his way across the stage,
but you Need Some Attention paid,
so you watch words to earn a wage,
internet, email, and cell phone ALL
technology to watch what words will work without that wascal wabbit wunning off at the mouth,
where words pop out as fast as
pills
pop in
so No Substance Abuse is noticeable...

this poem has been interrupted beeeep pppppp!  * crackle

Perhaps it is the phenomenon
of being constantly,
perfectly out of reach that
keeps me going in the mornings
when there is no glow,
& the comfort of living within
my alotted skin has vanished.

Perhaps it is the season,
these months of leaves
cascading,
that guides me,
gently,
down.

Imprinting herself around me
   a tenderly etched embrace
Integrity of heart and soul
   intact, time shan't erase

A scarab if a beetle
   a nova if a star
An amulet of conviction
   pulsing light from afar

My hand is open to her
   my life freely given
To be loved simply by loving
   ancient wisdom recently rewritten

Soon  I will be done with the ledger of my adolescence
The sun is still in his puberty, though older than me
The moon is still in her perfection, a blessed queen
I have bejeweled you with the sweat of my love
And have garlanded your beauty with rubies and pearls….
Today you are the ocean of love,
And I the sunny heat of summer.
You came that day, Expecting for your arrival
Sun poured shower of anguish on my amethyst Panjabi
Out of the blue You appeared like an expected spring
In her colorful curcuma domestica costumes.
Your locks  under the veil of spring’s yellow umbrella
Still counting the days, the nights, the ongoing time,
Sometimes my heart in quest of a Time –machine….
We took  the weight off our feet under a Blessed tree
I touched your hand joining my two palms
The cold current of  spring was soaring  there
My ill-fated heart could not Kiss your "Petals of Blood"
I drowned, I drowned in my own made ocean……..