The season of prolonged drought
this is - my heart it has invaded-
the green pasture is long gone
the once-proud flowers have withered
only parched brown ***-holes
are found in this wilderness now
that I call home and claim its ruins
amidst the surrounding mound--

here nature is mute and disfigured
there's not a drop of water around
tree-barks bleed and mosses creep
over abandoned gates--not a single sound
is heard from past cheerful birds
leaves decay and drop in succession on the waiting ground
the pale and sick sun has taken long leave
weeds and insects fester and abound--

in this desolate and sinking piece of earth
where's hope, love and beauty to be found?
dreams have perished and courage has drawn long breaths
of its vain visits discontented hours have lost count
there would be no relics worth the recording
the silence is sombre, chilling and profound
the day surrenders to the dead weight of weariness
and the shadows of night on the troubled heart mercilessly hound.

Don't beat your drum
yet--you don't know the outcome

The very sap of life
  is beginning to dry up
  we're losing the virus battle
  even with our mightiest club-

  towns and cities repress their tears
  there's hardly joy in the cup
  ominous clouds blot out the horizon
  upon our very skin gloom and fears they callously rub.

Nightfall is not yet
shadows of dusk are still lingering
gone are the last glimpses of sunset
for rest the weary heart is waiting.

Is love all made for regret?
do lovers come together and then part in weeping?
are dreams born just to forget
were vows pledged to end in breaking?

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?

The violin has its days outlived
these are its dying notes
it has given its heart to those it once loved
only memory now sadly bodes

love, though in the waning throes of time
shall not yield but stay unfazed and afloat
its songs shall drift still through hills and fields
its poems all lovers in days to come shall remember and quote.

There'd be no one
around as to your heart
you speak-- each life
from others hangs apart-

the past still knocks
at the door-- it does demand
to be heard-- time slows down
the present pauses to understand-

the self stands alone
zig-saw puzzles they aggrieve
reason is a poor solver
only confusion it does give-

ah, the stricken heart
how little does it know of rest
chocked for words in doubt
by burden so heavily oppressed.

My case
I wouldn't overstate
enough has been said
it would but exacerbate

I'll walk away
let others their story relate
each life is a polarity apart
it defies all debate

Eagerness is not necessarily a virtue
many rush in with nothing clear in view

I rise with the early morning dew
  still sparkling on new-born grass
  you will pass by in full view
  in glory no girl could surpass.

  I tried and struggled to forget you
  too weak was my will to trust
  every night is torment and every day is blue
  all my dreams sadly fade and turn to dust.

  I wrote with a heart pure and true
my life for you I will readily cast
this passion consumes and I can't subdue
  but I know for eternity it will last.

  I am dying and can't rise with the early morning dew
  you will marry someone as every sweet girl must
  yet my heart will forever enshrine you
  though I sleep unquiet under the forgotten grass.

Lies-- with such it's easy to live
with truth, it's a struggle without relief.

When hard is easy and, easy is hard
  you won't know unless you make a start

Does the manner a person has his (her) meal reveals their sexuality?     After all, the common thread is hunger and gratification
What would Freud have said as he was such expert to the highest degree?
Wouldn't having a meal strike terror whatever the occasion?

If I could set my inner ecology in order

there's little else I would desire more

Thank
you
for
this
pleasant
and
safe
ride

Dear Albert, don't talk to me
about relativity
let's fiddle together* in harmony
that would make me happy

....but my heart
can hold only this much
   it has no more space
and must stay as such

     its well is empty
how to fill up I scarcely know
    love is such misery
with its sharpest needle of throe

     even in this cool smiling spring
every leaf of hope I've shed
     my being is winter-frozen
all my feelings are dead

      and the past like a sad echo
revisits me and will not let go
      in the dark there's no path to follow
slowly I will disappear like a shadow

This is my suffering
and punishment too?
I can't die and perpetuity
without mercy haunts me
what a torture-immortality!
what loneliness
and monotony!
enclosed in time's prison
my voice has become hoarse
and I can barely breathe
the winds, the sky
the stars and the moon
hardly look upon me
for familiarity

I'll be the last
the most lonely
existence
nature's most accursed
an error
a piece that can't fit
anywhere

**** the poets
who give me false praise
they write only
for the sake
of their poetry
it's not about me
they care
but for their own glory

drowned in my pain
and sorrow
and I know
the same angst
would hang heavily
upon on me
tomorrow.

Sincerity does not need eloquence
it will do in every simple word or sentence

We don't need words to speak

they are found to be too weak

read me in my silence

I need no eloquence

Psychiatric nurse was in dire panic
the boss had been hospitalised for being mentally sick!

These drawers are my sanctuary
in bitter tears each poem was born
from the world I seek no pity
I wake to pen more upon the dawn.

I am cloistered and secluded
   in my self-determination
   yet my heart and mind know no limits
   they encompass the universe in my imagination-

  that which belongs to one is sacred
  beyond the touch of contamination
  I don't need to look at the mirror
  my life calls for no redemption.

Artificially- heightened emotion in poetry
is its very own enemy

Em-pathy
should be construed
as  I AM full
of sympathy

Empathy-
when your heart
reaches out geninely
to even a stranger in misery

Voice has died down
silent are words
thoughts retreat
all is empty now

The emptiness
the void pervading
the nothing
the not -wanting

is the beginning
of sorrow's ending
it's the self-liberating
with nothing missing

There were times when I was at odds with myself-
I was cured by taking a long walk in the unknown faraway
countryside, setting myself and all my thinking aside.

Nature in her silence spoke to me---in some
unknown language, yet my soul could translate that into what I
could understand. It was as though I was in a suspended state:
I felt ethereal, light as though my entire being is like a feather
drifting higher and higher to the firmament from the ground I stood
on.
I felt blissful without knowing how or why.
I was momentarily no longer myself.

The moments were brief but I felt a deep sense of liberation,
calmness and tranquillity and came to realise that, out there,
there was a Dimension that was infinitely larger than my little
self and that, if I were to be silent, humble and able to set myself
aside, it would direct me to a Path beyond the pale of this
earthly life.

My self has changed forever henceforth.

Do you SEE me
or are you JUDGING me?

Life is encounter
I feel, I learn, I discover.

Your humanity is tested by each encounter
   either you inspire or drive away the other

The world ended
when **** sapiens
first walked the earth

ENEMIES

Should I say I have enemies
but rather
that others single me out
as such?
I don’t even know them
how could I?
they never said to me:
‘   You are my enemy’

and why me?
I am of no significance
not in the market-place
not the cynosure of others’ eyes
so few people
know that I exist

do I have the time
or bother
someone has targeted me
as an enemy?
Doesn’t that person
have better things to do?

but I don’t choose
to be the enemy of anyone
I have enough problem
of my own

only one enemy
I dread
lest it destroys me
that someone
is with me
every moment
all the time
day and night
it won’t let go of me
it clings worse than a leech
to my skin
it exhorts
challenges
teases
displeases
chides
blames
even pontificates
wanting to over-power me
in everything I do
trying to undo
what I count
to be dear to my heart
even threatens me
in anger
indignity
without a single straw of mercy

even in my sleep
it doesn’t leave me
it wants to haunt me
so that I would know no rest

I turn the corner to look
at that creature
my worst enemy
oh no
it CAN'T be true
that monster
is none other than
myself!

vincit qui se vincit

Life is less about
our engagement with time
but more about us being engaged
with ourselves in time

An English village dated 1754
a silly wandering *** fell into a hole
the villagers saved the creature and the village prospered
the ground was held a lucky spot and named ***-Hole!

I have nothing to say today
99.9% had been spoken yesterday.

Ah, the sunshine
     it's smiling over the green
     it's glorious summertime
     the heart is willing and keen

     leave your work behind
     there's time yet
     ere the hours slip away
    into dusk and early sunset

   maidens, leave your silent chamber
   come and dance and sing
   youth is the mouthpiece of joy
   surely love is the most blessed thing

   let your hearts be enraptured
   somewhere the desired are waiting
   life is not made for pining
   let every moment be your  love's blossoming.

The price of entry
is often much too high
it's enough I look from outside
as I unobtrusively walk by.

Because you treat life
as an equation
that's the cause
of your confusion

Many epigrams did write Hilaire Belloc
spicy and pungent but they didn't really shock

At a sales pep-talk
'lie to the buyer
take his money
to another area quickly walk'.

Completing 100 epigrams is just too many
from this addiction I must now set myself free!

Much of love is sorrow-ridden
the young in time will learn this painful lesson

A false friend
  would land
  you in the ******* bin
  won't spare you
  even an inch of skin

Those in love
the nicest words they would say
when spurned upon
they would swear a thousand miles away.

Don't you worry
your friends would forget
you almost immediately
when you have passed through the inevitable gate

I have long ago
accepted my inadequacy
and rather enjoyed it
indeed this has made me happy

Isn't it strange
gone is the fun
when that something
is done!

How to be happy?
Try not being unhappy