Does youth
more tears shed
than old age?
I scarcely know
whatever
life is much sorrow

should things be such
from where should we
knowledge borrow?

yet tears
of both ages
are not the same
( distanced by years)
as they in their own way
silently and painfully flow

and what they signify
is from their own hearts drawn
youth is the folly of experience
old age is contemplation without blame
the season that makes wisdom grow

in this the winter-depth
of my fast slipping-away days
tears have become weary
no longer are they keen
their past stories to tell
they have so little now to say
I am quiet , tranquil and at peace
oblivious to what would follow
upon the morrow.

SEA IMAGES

This rusty little boat, anchored on the far-away shallow bank,
Neglected, but still bears marks of past bruises and secrets
Of passion, known only to some daring lovers
Long forgotten.

Today the sky is still red with summer desire,
The winds blow free and wild, careless, enticing.
Crimson flowers, half-hidden from human eyes,
Resplendent in glory, flushed with fire,
Drunk with yearning, dream of a world beyond time
Devoid of regrets, pains and sighs.

This day seems so long, while the heat waves tear
At the insatiate hearts of all, both young and old,
Who share the common anguish, the same bond of longing
For what could never be, that unfathomable-
Beyond words, experience, touch, feeling-
that magnificent unknown
Born of first love.
Is that what is inadequately
Spoken of by the poets as ecstasy?

Like the themes of an eternal symphony, the sea
Holds the keys to the heart’s depth,
Its longing, loneliness, sorrow and pain
While the last song of this summer has come to an end, sadly,
There will always be a boat somewhere with its story-
Watched by the waves, the sky, the crimson flowers
And love unfulfilled, soaked in silent misery.

After listening to Schumann and Chopin’s piano concertos-
night of 14th August 1999, Sydney

Don't you in contempt dump
my affection in some landfill
love didn't do you any wrong
you could walk away but never ****--

hearts that had loved once
even in sorrow should bear no ill
I look forward to no happy outcome
but only bid to remain remorseless and still.

The surest and safest way of escape

is in total self-abandonment

despite adversity of any size and shape

the heart in quietude is never shaken

When I tell myself
    'Be sober'
     that's precisely
    the moment I fall over!

A strange thing
happened this morning
through my bedroom- window I looked
heard a robin singing

the melody seemed
to be saying
'Wake up, leave your chamber
love,  beauty and wonder** is waiting'

later in the day on the door
the postman was knocking
with a registered letter
which read: 'Your writing

has won the first prize
your poetry book we'll be publishing
this is the agreement
please sign, don't keep us waiting!'.

The bridge has two sides
and I wonder
from which should I start
the side before me might hide a danger

I have to weigh and consider
would it not be better
to choose the other?
choice in life is truly the greatest bother

but if one side holds some danger
surely it's better that I cross through another!

VALENTINE'S DAY

My love she sent me ten roses
only one was fresh, the rest all shrivelled and dead
with a note addressed to 'You cruel and faithless lover'
and ending: ' The fresh rose is for your death-bed'.

Me, a cynic?
can't be
I love all that
which is scenic!

Rest, oh rest so sublime

as night drifts into the unknown

forgotten is weary time

this, the sojourn alone--



light, oh light so calm

all darkness on swift wings has flown

ah, sleep so welcome--  the sweetest balm

what the living have never ever  known

Three cheers
not for democracy*
there are no fears
when you are free--

three cheers
for non-conformity
shed no tears
when you embrace humanity-

three cheers
for the heart all ready
worthy among all peers
devoted to love and beauty--

three cheers
and it must be
for those in highest degrees
who bring hope and joy to society.

A thought is a colour, so I deem
in my dream so many colours
it does assume--ah, paucity of neuro-science-
it labours and struggles in shadows!

but my love is well beyond
words, thoughts and borders
ten million rainbows pale in comparison
with its infinite beauty and wonders.

THREE THINGS ARE CERTAIN, NOT TWO

Three things are certain, not two
To tax and death, add credit card
The old adage is grossly out-of-date
The third is to so many life's financial safeguard.

The Tax Office and the credit-card man
Are too eager to have the first claim
Worried in case you walk too soon to the faraway land
Your obligations discharged---they can't be bothered with your name.

A PASTORAL ROMANCE

Come, my love, come, join me
in the strawberry field, don't tarry
the fruits are ripe for plucking--ready
just waiting for you and me

the sun is shining
the birds are singing
the roses are dancing
and my heart is pleading

PAINTINGS
      

Paintings are the colours of music
Every stroke a note of harmony
Impressions of mysterious muses
Inscriptions of eternity.

Music without sound
Rapture of a grand symphony
Voice of sublime quietness
Quintessence of eternal beauty.

Modeste Mussorgsky breathed music
Into pictures at an exhibition
The twain embraced and waltzed-
Art’s most poignant and wondrous fusion.

What would earthly life be
Without the passionate kiss of beauty?
When words fail and the heart is weary
Beauty consoles in her infinite serenity.

I write
because I feel-
more intensely
when wounds
I need to heal
life cares not
whether it embitters
agonises
or trips every heel

human tears
are mirrored
in words
the litany
of sorrowful years
adversity
spreads
like an epidemic
but to despair
and defeat
I'll never yield

my poems
shall be my shield
I know
living is never*
as easy as
walking through a field

If
you do love me
admit
remove my misery-

when
you've set your heart free
I'll enter then
love should know no ambiguity.

Twitter, twitter, twitter
because so very bored is the writer
neither hither nor thither
twittering doesn't remove the languor

Some are OK
       some are not OK
       most seem to be half-way

Don't let it

get you down*

whether it's tomorrow

or the moment now-



still is my heart

whether events delight or frown

to faith I dearly hold

I'm unshaken on my very ground

LIFE-SCAPE

Life-scape--  life as a shifting landscape
never a still picture
it glides kaleidoscopically
none could figure

what its next rotation would be
but my beloved—if your heart is constant
why need I heed
life’s each restless movement?

Muted voices, broken chords
our life is made up of songs incomplete
missed beats, rhythms incongruous
our melodies are seldom sweet--

the notes are faulty and jagged
accord and harmony there's not
the instruments of the orchestra
fail in unison--- hardly any beauty is wrought.

My happiness
will spring like
a newborn flower
reaching out to the light
if you will love me
for what I am
all other things
set aside-

my heart knows
love is not my right
only that such
I deserve
and keep it bright
until the end of time
without the tiniest blight-

I stop, I don't know why
suddenly my words fail
and fall into the labyrinth
of my heart's twilight--

I'm sinking
I'm fading
like a flower
in withering
yet, there's
such sweetness
in my longing to die
for this burning love
I can't ever deny.

Every want is a bearer of disappointment
as nothing in life is ever guaranteed

Much of our life
is in the past tense
we are held in present suspension
the future is an unknown sentence

My love is in the garden
she sings not to me
but praises the flowers
in sweet melody.

My love is in the kitchen
(when is she never busy?)
humming Home Sweet Home
' Darl, this is mum's recipe'.

My love is in the drawing-room
at her favourite embroidery
' Your socks have holes
   I've mended-they are ready'.

My love and I are in bed
she asks: 'Do you still love me?'
I look into her warm tender eyes:
' You're immortalised in my poetry!'

Long dark shadows cast
by tall trees in winter night
call of unknown birds

I can't compete with others and I've no desire to.  I have to admit to myself that there are only a few things that, with hard work and patience, I could do with some degree of comfort and satisfaction.
On this alone  I'll focus, minding my own business, and as I move along, I hope to learn more of my limitations. Only through such self-searching, would I be able to make something out of my life. Without such, all my other efforts would be futile.

Nothing could be more deleterious than to pit oneself against others for to do so is an admission of one's inferiority and lack of self-insight.

In the beginning I was alone and it shall be so as long as I live. I have to look inwards to make sense of what is outside of me. This to me is a sensible way to live life.

You can't rush
into your inner sanctum
demanding an answer
its sacredness you'd defile
and be left bereft, no better-

enter humbly you must
in purity of soul and heart
its door will gladly welcome
of you it'll be a willing part-

your dreams it will readily hug
the veil will then be lifted
never again would you
be left abandoned
in the lonely dark.

The stoic knows life is not created solely for his sake and in recognising this he acquires his full humanity

We all say
what- the- heck
it's only money
but the trouble arises
when we don't have any!

FEELINGS
Feelings
are                 drifting clouds
ever               moving           at the whims
of winds        effervescent    ethereal
like                 ships             without anchors
will- o’ the wisp       where      are their homes
of what         substance        are they made of

like             the rose-bud         just nascent
like             ****** love           just unfolding
like             life                       mystifying
like             a lover’s  dream  somewhere hidden
like             shadows              haunting

I                was wrongly        taught
feelings   were                    rocks impenetrable

experience    now                     teaches me
feelings     are                    life’s   shifting landscapes
strange    quietly                evaporating
in            the mind’s         labyrinth
I               am glad             liberated
in             the realisation  
I am         not                   made of rock

Dusk somehow
speaks to me
of time's greying

we forget
time has a life of its own
and knows its own loneliness

it grows tired
more and more by the second
performing a duty
****** upon it-

it has no say
it has no holiday
but takes orders
from a void that
first gave it life-

and time sadly says:
this is my destiny
and I am chained
by a force
beyond me

I grow old
neglected
forgotten
left behind
unto my own

and I long to sleep
never to get up
I die a little everyday
and regret
that I can't die

in the dusk
can you hear and feel
time sighing
among the trees, hiding
over the waters, wandering
over the mountain, reminiscing
around the stars, dreaming?

and can you imagine
it has a heart
and sheds tears
like us humans?

PERFECT STRANGERS
  
  At the corner-silent and lonely-
  Of the concert hall, suddenly
   Your eyes turned to me
   Perfect strangers we were--what would next be?

   The music ended in tears-- love's eternal painful story-
   Did you weep or  was it just my fantasy?
  Into the cold winter night you disappeared so mysteriously
  So many years have gone by--still you linger in my memory.

LIFE AND I

Life sends me an invitation
‘ Let’s have a conversation’
  I decline without hesitation-
‘ I need not your explanation’.

Enough conversation I have had
With my own heart---in every season--
Words are but shadows of truth, they cajole
Must everything have a reason?

I should be as empty
As the open sky
I should dwell in wordless nature
I should not ask: Why?

How calm is the dusk
How serenely does the night fall
I wake, I work, I sleep, I dream---
Only that I know---it’s my all-in-all.

Written in the tram to the city

I'll hold faithfully to silence

words -they don't solace confer-

the heart feels its mysterious radiance

the truth of life it will richly discover

Make the most mundane day

your tiny, silent miracle

chart your dream,  set the way

rise to the desired pinnacle

If I've found the right attitude

   it will come easily to me----aptitude

I do just the possible
I don't need to sparkle

dusk  the river is dark
no star yet    no moving clouds
deserted shore   dinghy boat  in distance
the trees whisper   falling leaves
late flight of herons across the grey sky
singing in unison  smoke from village chimneys
fishermen draw in nets   wives awaiting their return
aroma infusing the kitchen   the kids chasing one another
grandpa reading poetry  grandma sings an old song
winds rush through windows
the fields are empty and silent
who's playing the violin?
life is a picture and a poem

And I hear some say to me
     go and save the world--go-
     that would make you great
     you would be the day's hero

    and this I reply
    I can't climb ten floors--no--
   I can't save a fair maid from a burning building
   Nor swim to save a drowning man --I know

   I am no hero---I'll leave that to others
  who will do fine and steal the show
  such people we need -- and their deeds
  are in Guinness Book Of Records---though

  I  should not fail my fellow-men and myself
  I should be kind and offer a helping hand wherever I go
  no man is an island and the human heart knows both joys and woes
  let's spread love and compassion when others are in sorrow

FIRST LOVE

I buried my wild youthful dream
In the sand of a faraway shore
I promised myself
Never to return there any more.

Time had taken flight on relentless wings
I thought I was brave and strong
Still that dream returned to haunt
Like the endless echo of a melancholic song.

Once she said she loved me
Begged that I would not abandon her
‘  You are my heart’s content, my solace
Believe me--I will love you forever’.

How fragile and forgetful is love
Who knows its inconstancy?
Love that betrays murders the heart
‘ La Dame Sans Merci’.

Who knows the secrets of the heart?
Is love an illusion and fantasy?
Who knows the how and why
Of that which is life’s most profound mystery?

Explain it  if you may
You would need words to cover
The whole sky and the widest sea
It would be wise not to endeavour.

I am dying, dying now
And that distant shore speaks to me
You must return before your last sunset
Perhaps, perhaps, you will be set free.

Student to Master:
Revered Master, please tell me why I am so unhappy.

Reply: From your tone and posture, so suggestively
this I can say unreservedly:
it's because you have taken yourself too seriously.

The heart is woodland

deepest mysteries it holds

it sings and it weeps

Hope is the road that was built
during the darkest hour
once the desolate barren land had been traversed
untold strength and courage would uncover.

In public, they seemed to be so deeply in love
at home,  you could hear their quarrel from 10 storeys* above

Tonight
it would be hard
for me to sleep
my duty
I performed
shabbily
I hurt
mindlessly
my promises
I failed to keep--

my excuses
sleep
would not overlook
or forgive
deep
inside
it's as though
some worms
are beginning to creep
gnawing
at my whole being
how could I sleep?

when poisons
seep
into the blood-system
when conscience
bites
at the seam
when
loud internal voices
ring to condemn
where would
I find sweet memories
to keep?

what I sow
I reap

it's well past midnight
but how could I sleep?

I don't have the answer
but will not die for such account
perhaps many years later
it might on its own quietly come around

You should not die
just because a close friend
has let you down. Life
is a billion times larger
than him.  Why strive
when you should hold
your own? If you live
long enough, you would find
many like such around

be thick-skinned as
the crocodile. Smile
at his puny self-
by now you'd have realised
the world is a hot-bed
of malice and spite

do yourself a favour
take a trip to the countryside
walk on the grass bare-footed
smell the flowers nearby
talk to the birds if this way
they should fly
look at the sparkling brook
its water is truthfully clear
it doesn't judge nor lie

just because
of one person
who's out
to bring you down
you don't deserve
to die.

LOVE IN A NUTSHELL

Love---life is about love and relationships
in between there are many rough patches and slips
but he who swims in its unpredictable waters must
not be afraid of drowning—in his own courage he must trust.