1.
The non peril writer,magnificent illustrator,
dexterous editor,all in one of the book of life,
each one, each page,each edition looks and reads
different, yet one in essence, though flavors vary.
We hear  you speak every tongue,Latin, Arabic, Hebrew
and in sonorous Sanskrit,you make us chant"Earth is one nest"
2.
Such profuse creativity  baffles one and all, ever
is your prime possession;  manifestation as well!
The nebulous one, present in each cell,each neuron,
well,  everything ever appeared,anywhere in cosmos,
we attempt to know you in myriad means, give you names
that pleases us, we try to possess you in ways even mean.
We hallucinate our cameras of mind, captures  you right
with the eyes of science; you still prove to be like music.
3.
In our limited resources allotted by neuron collectives,
we make you sit on the throne, of the architect of cosmos,
that evolves and emerge,and itself erases when time is ripe.
The artistic painter of emotions, that has been baffling,
the mix of color happens without any  guide book.
sans blue print of any kind or elaborate plan to execute.
4.
You have no designated place to live, in spite of our wishes
you are omnipresent , the string, player as well as  music,
your thought work we all are, weaved in to one from
strands of of ancient  DNA things preserved,through ages!
Oh! the one that's beyond the realms of winning /losing
the subtlest of all the sublime that in every heartbeats chant,
love to be a work of art that  pleases you, in me present,
5.
Help me from within, in my dissolution as colors,varied
be the painter too and to become that work of art pleases you.

Happy aren't you, on what you see here,in  my humble garden?

Life isn't always a garden nice, for some never,one would think.

It would seem a field ravaged by the vagaries of nature,

Even if you try to keep it as the apple of your eye.

Crops get uprooted abruptly,field gets waterlogged,slushy,

Yet you find a far corner nice,clean and dry,a wonder, right?


Sit down there for a while and meditate on such,wonders,

That keep our boat afloat, during the times of uncontrolled floods,

I do that when I am elated, while feeling down and hapless as well.

This world, is created to be good and generates happiness for all.

That's what my dad taught me as we would play hard to get

There and attain goals,without hurting, the  others who compete.

"That" he would insist ,"is the spirit, to be nurtured always"

But then we changed,ideas are now different,we need to speak.

On taming our wild ways,by getting in to the lap of mother nature.

Resolving differences is  a step forward, bad Karmas  left behind,

Every moment of meditation,makes mind a still and clear lake!

"From darkness, lead me to light, I'll gladly share it with others!"

When the light enter in to the sanctum sanctorum of tranquil mind,

What more one would need, isn't living that experience  bliss?

The path was too dark, alone and down, still fighting

She badly was in need to feel upbeat and elated.

The talent to embrace truth, through electrifying poems

Was her way out of troubles of any kind at any time.

She wrote one on "The loneliness of the crescent moon"

The moon peeped through the window,said with concern:

"Girl,you are are wonderful,don't you know that,get up,

Read this poem aloud to the world and end it in laughter"

She tried, she tried, but at the end,she uncontrollably cried!"

"Your kohl black Indian eyes,
emitting  silver lightening
**** me in small instalments"
I whisper, softly in her ear
"From my beloved mother,
but much less lethal"she explains
the generational difference.

"This kick *** legginess"
I begin while doing
an *"Aarti"with my eyes ,
on that magnificence;
it soon turned panegyric,
yes she loved it, of course.

"A family inheritance,
athletic genes, handed over
from a day past, but your attention,
at this juncture is misguided"
she turns cheeky at such times.
"A heart that beats faster whenever
a thing of beauty is at sight, nothing more"
I attempt to smoothen the friction.

"The spirit instilled by a father,who'd
die for beauty and then polished it to such shine
by one special,who is kept here"winking at me
says she, pointing at her chest, assets ample,
vying with each other, for a space,
on her front page, though what she
meant was her heart,in a space much deeper.

The spiral nebula
still remains amorous,
coils up to others
it fancies...

I am a spec
escaped during
the mating game
of galaxies in heat.
Like serpents they
spiral up hissing
passionately
kiss and entwine
till the moment they
contort and explode.
I lost kinship and
reached at a different world.

Ardently you sought me, your perfect partner
in the planned, ****** crime extraordinaire,
all I needed to say,was "yes I am game"
Nothing more than our bodies commanded,
yet, I did that because it is you, who'd be in
the other side of the bed, that pleases me a lot.

You were an unknown and rare perfume
that I long sought, but failed to lay my hands on,
every amorous eye, falling on you,would attempt
fornication,vicarious, but all were in vein, of course
then, your eyes fell on mine, though you'd have loved
it to happen the other way round for more perfection.

Both of us are, those ones who walk that extra mile
in any kind of ****** adventure, without inhibition
if the idea originally occurred without instigation.
for us "Kamasutra"in it's real potential,is yet to be invented.
You always had thought that you were the game changer,
but now realize, things aren't  the way you expected!

How could you imagine, I still am uninitiated
in this genre,passion play we put our body and mind
a flaw you should have avoided, in  the  first place.
Now,make up for the lost time.Do the thing in earnest,
why don't you ascertain the facts before begining?
One presumes that things  move the way one plans
with out considering the significant other playing!
playground of cupid remains a field of pleasant surprises.