The heart has several chambers
not just one as we've thought
many secrets it hides within
such it shares not

the person is kept in the depth of doubt
in mystery he is helplessly caught
the mist of twilight hovers heavily over him
though for illumination he has so long sought

.....but the mind
    can be truly blind
    with too much reason
    meaning it fails to find

It's easier for me
to capture the wind
in my palm than
to hear a kind word
from you--not even
in a century!

Other people's folly
I can easily accept
it's arrogance
that drives me mad!

The last straw
broke the camel's back:
you got the sack
because to the boss
an extra word you said!

The mind knows
   but the heart understands more
   knowledge has a clear limit
  feelings and intuition richer score

If truth had
to defend itself
it would no longer
be truth

What if our minds
were such that what
we did before
were obliterated after the act?

No, life is not a dream
it's more our fantasy:
unfulfilled and dissatisfied
we tip towards that territory

and for some odd moments
we seem to be somewhat happy
then comes the rude shock
we look into our wallet and find it empty!

Life is but nothing
only that you think

You've better things
to do---don't study me!
Look for those
who are the jewels of society-

I live far away
in the unknown alley
poor and jobless
one who writes paltry poetry-

my dad was a farmer
my mum was from a humble family
my grandfather was a street-musician
his dad was a carpenter in the country-

so by now you've heard
my rather uninspiring story
you shouldn't stay longer here
and waste your time on me.

Life is made up
of the 'yes 'and 'no'-
alas ! Most don't know
which to follow

Life: don't worry
about the know-how:
first apply your heart
you'll find it somehow

living is not science
the latter's not the wisdom-crown:
lean on your feelings and intuition
they will not let you down

I'm fragile
and vulnerable
but still hold mo own
among people:
I do my little thing
I cause no one
any trouble:
in my remote corner
I live in decency
and honour

My mission
is not to take on
the world
only, on myself:
I seek not
to excel
but to self-realise
is my silent call

Life:
the big
and the small-
the low
and the tall-
nothing fits perfectly
there's no
perfect call

Living
      is the best learning

I don't believe
in any miracle:
I only endeavour
to do my best possible

Joy  or sorrow
    ease or pain
    in your mind's tranquillity
    be indifferent

You've the potential
       to be a superior person
       but must first acquire
       the art of self-cultivation

Flowers:
they don't struggle
to appear
they know when to blow

You will either be
your own friend
or your enemy

Wanting less-
   no stress

I didn't see clearly
as to the scene I was
too close-- I went away
and upon that did I find clarity

the self that's too fixated
little room does it leave
for discovery--with unlearning only
will appear the intuitive gift

inspired by the poem 'Rapture' by Gemma White, a poet from Melbourne

           Ah, rapture         so rare--the bliss         of the favoured     
   the few selected?         The dream          of the poet          the idealist           or the philosopher?                    Most lives          linger rather          in rupture          or displeasure-
           and as for me          the lonely wanderer         
 in life's remote pasture           my raison d'etre            to discover           have only found           there's hardly           any wonder   
                    hither and thither-          
        all is haze and mist          a moment never   
      even to have          a glimpse           of the shadow  
                           of rapture

Melb, 31st August, Sunday, 2.25 pm

Come, fair lassie
awaiting is the bright sun
come to me now
ere the day is done-

behold the roses
in their radiant blooming
how they dance in the wind
but will fade in the evening-

do not hesitate, fair lassie
love does not like tarrying
the heart of youth is wildly beating
unabated is its yearning-

time is mindless and unkind
its steps are unrelenting
all my life is at your bidding
to my love why will you be resisting?

Time does not gently speak:
it shouts and commands
its voice I heed not
from it I make no demands

The world is already
much too loud :
tone down
please don't shout!

The stories of the young
can't be the same as those of the elderly
yet each bears its distinct and unique mark
whether dotted with beauty or misery

The brightest star
knows not its own light
and I, an ordinary writer
can't ever assert I'm right

I don't need
to look over the fence
I've too much to do
just from this end

There's no such thing
as 'forever' -
it's a euphemism
where writers err!

True courage
is silent, hidden:
unknown to others
it lies within

The word is 'freedom'
not 'wisdom'
everything in life
it will transform

Don't bring me
any flower
too soon
it will wither-

only this
you need remember
bring me your heart
this love shall last forever -

I'm poor
but a scholar
for you I'll write
the sweetest love-letter-

your charm
glows brighter
as I lie down
in my gentle slumber

Monday
is always
the best day-
nearer, the pay-day!

The past:
it wasn't time
in my imagination:
only myself fixed
engaged, suspended
in every moment
and motion
at some task-
in the reality
of being alive
to that which
was before me-
an encounter
a nexus
each new
challenging
and sometimes strange
unexpected
unanticipated

I was there
an element-
with myself
or beyond:
others saw me
I was real
not an image
nor a doppelganger
but flesh and blood
for them to size up
or conjecture

these pictures
in the mind's telescope
they don't disappear
all the scenes stand
and will forever endure

Let your life
be a fill-in
but it makes sense
only if you have feeling

You can write a long paragraph
on each of the people you know
I'm asking you to write a sentence
on yourself-- why do you hesitate so?

I've held
your hand
for so long
pale and weak
you were then
without a friend
all alone-

now you walk away
from my life
because you've become
rich , famous and strong

It will follow you
near and far:
this is the wheel
of life--the name is Karma

No, you aren't bad
odious is the right word!

Yes, you did play fair
but kindness isn't everywhere:
if this truth you will grasp well
you' ll not end in living-hell

Don't define :
just love
it's beyond words
let it serve

Happiness can be forthcoming
only with the letting go
not with the holding

For me
please, no bravado
say that
to some hero

Did they reject you?
Aren't you lucky?
Now, you're accountable
to yourself only

Don't say:
' what's wrong with the world?'
  That's not your concern
   rather this:
  'What's wrong with myself?'

What suits you
doesn't signify right
others might
such deride

Talk to your dog
you'll feel better
I'm your shrink
but even sadder