Though tried his level best, to pry open
the tough oyster with such might,he gets
just a glimpse of the smile of the pearl
so rare within. which clearly indicates
it's liking; love for  light than darkness

But the oyster,  so adamant, refused to part,
it jealously holds the pearl enclosed,within,
along with the bitter taste left in his mouth,
he learns a precious lesson, in the way worst possible.

A great one, from the oyster's closed book of life,
on possession and renunciation at right time,
managing frustration and letting go graciously.

1.
The old lady sits on the garden bench, a fixture,
from the days so far, colonial times to be precise,
thickly painted green, coat after coat,that covers up age,
after the incessant lashing of copious monsoon rains,this evening
the bench has a secret gleam, as if  it's age has been washed away for ever.
2.
Her hair, resplendent silver;the children playing on the sand bed
in the open space in front of  her bench, stand wondering:
far removed from realities familiar,she seemed,"Is she real?"
The old lady plays with a child that ran to her and embraced,
curious to touch her hair, happily it springs on to her lap,
her starched Sari gets crumpled,to it'smother
the old lady softly says"Don't bother children need space,
freedom and  care, love his smile, don't want to see it wither"
3.
She looks at the flowerbed and smiles to herself,
as if she remembered her own dreams a day too far.
The old garden bench, senses a magic,with a start it wakes up
from it's slumber and begins to prattle,"Yes, it's really her,
remember the passion filled kisses she exchanged  with her sweetheart,
when darkness came stealthily,like a crafty lover out to rob hearts,
right here on my lap, at a time love was a scent wafting low in the air
Where has he gone? I now wonder,a lot of monsoon clouds
burst up on me limitless quantities of water,after that"
4.
A wind so strong, like the hands of time ruffled
the leaves of the giant banyan tree,that stood sentinel,
leaves  started a cheerful dance, reminiscent of the play of life*
Perhaps the night the death waiting on the wings is little disappointed.

Did something that matters to us drop from the sky?
We wondered for a  long while,what it was, when and why?
At the end of the inquiry,everything became clear,we found joy,
feel the smile in your bones,distant starlit galaxies wink on the sly.

You are an erroneous mirror with a horribly distorted plane,
the figure find reflected on it's surface too are  you,miserable one!
And the perplexed observer?Who else, it's you, do you realize?
Don't complain or  blame it on  others, it's you who should decide,
where to begin and when, to set right whatever has gone wrong.

Thirsty,she came running to him, like any true seeker of wisdom,
erroneously believing this is a flower full of nectar, waiting for her.
That debacle of hers taught him what the real nature of human life is,
a seeker now, he  finds himself,filling his first cup of elixir from her.

Wake up golden light,over the hills,drown me in your
silver shower, an eager surge you are, soak the world in love,
Embrace me breeze, make the leaves chant your magical words,
that heal heart and soul, rejuvenate at such tranquil moments.

In this morning's expectations, I take the avatar of pure love,
waiting  to be expressed, in ways different,I am ready to invent.
Together she and I are a  universe,that knows no bounds of any kind.
This give and take,keeps a cauldron boiling,in the fervor of love,
love wafts as  a scented wind in the air, over the lands and oceans,
Deserts and oases lie scorched thirsting for love's precious footprint,
love that moves mountains, changes deserts in to profusion of flowers,
makes men and women hold hands and exchange hearts for ever.

Lust, when it grips us,  is a sudden swell,  
occasional in a mountain river flowing downhill,
from the high ranges of inflamed emotions.

The ecstatic roar while the  discharge is easily forgotten ,
the river  runs dry soon enough , when the torrents abruptly stop,
as the winds chase away the clouds, all of a sudden.

But those pools, your blue,beautiful eyes, clearly defy,
rules of seasons,brims invariably with love pure, all along,
and yes,it gets replenished,from the deep well springs
of your heart, it remains full whether I am far or near.

Armed to the teeth, he was every bit a soldier,fighting fit,
Had even an excessive zeal,for conquest bordering to
obsessive compulsive neurosis.he never could relax.
But the moment she was sighted,as an apparition,in his radar,
it was a  near a melt down; how quickly did he transform!
"Yes"  his command center,flashed a message, "See the target"
This was a surprise! contrary to what he thought his nature was
he stands now  stripped naked to the core, ready in true love mode

As the peals of your laughter ring a silver bell aloud,
Being trapped in your boudoir, sinks in to my consciousness,

Every single time your desire moans softly in pleasure,
It's hard to find an escape route, from this happy entrapment.

IN the divine frenzy of that moment,
when they met each other first, as predicted,
she pulled him down over her,for eons together,
on the marble step they just passed each other.
Both froze, trapped in a time wrap,
within a moment as a sculpture in alabaster.

A somnambulist sculpturer,with a wild imagination,
claimed it as his master piece, oblivious of the facts!

The cosmos is only a thought,like a flowing river reaching
to the ocean of eternity, if you would remember.
Every imagination, at a point becomes real, memory,
happenings, gains and loss all look the same as one goes on.
Every one passing the steps up and down, invariably is amazed,
wonder still, who this marble couple are, what story they'd tell.
The circle, is bound to get completed, a million years after,perhaps,
                                                  ­      2
Two butterflies, flying around the sculpture, to see if there is a drop
of nectar anywhere,find it on the lips joined,in a kiss eternal,
as they taste it together, they did remember a day in the life of universe,

A wise silver owl, watching this divine pantomime, flies up,
enlightenment strikes hard;on that zen moment, all fall in place!

Don't ever ask me what am I, an ancient story
of a battle lost to remain in the realm of the sublime,
unmitigated grief that visits, again and again,
reminding the journey of pain though galaxies,
far of yore to the days of present.

In a moments of desperation I discover  the bard,it could
be rather told thus, he meets me at last, as was his wont
Bard, celestial lover, before my eyes you appear thus:
I see you holding in your hands a magic lyre, so rare.
that goes on strumming non- stop, to bring birds, the tunes,
that lives in far parts of the universe,even unknown  to most,
they do vary,have colored feathers;memories living in
different layers of my consciousness,always buzzing like a beehive.

I am the single, magic , potent, word, a mantra
that in it's kernel carries the , seeds of eternal, "I am that"

I hear the speakings of the words,that brings to life
experiences of different kinds,on their beaks some one
carries ripe fruits, the result of long days of sweat and tears.
Each fruit has a flavor distinct,each word carries a seed
that will grow to be a mighty tree,many birds would roost.

Bard you are a wonder,tying past and future with one string
of a lyre converging in the heart beat of the ebullient present,
you easily transcend the three, and every other dimension
of time that mingles in your heady brew,unrivaled it stands.

A million poems seeking light, I haven't attempted to write,
Create waves and tides in my bloodstream day and night,
Demanding to make them heard blending  words that inebriate,
Before I forget them and chase  other butterflies in my garden.

I feel guilty about my choice of words to weave, later sometimes
Couldn't get the emotions I try to express,in my poems,right, regret,
True, there is no democracy even in my choice of poetic subjects,
Disorder could be  the suited order in making my inner world speak.

It's as if I am some other guy when I write, my heart's real prompt,
I don't even insist to be perfect,an inner voice wants to speak it's truth,
I am stimulated by a creative lust and in the frenzy of inner coitus,
Forget even myself,it's a  race towards ****** and strongly I  *******.

Stunning autumn clouds!

Compassion colors heaped leaves.

Hark! Buddha's footsteps!

She is spontaneous poetry, no need to be written,
a dam burst of emotions subtle,on what I float along,
a whirlwind at an unpredictable time of the season
looking for an intimate space to churn and churn and churn.

By now, I know this without her even hinting,
all her dark clouds will rain in torrents nonstop
in to my landscape, sultry, broad and tranquil
I am an open sky, a stage ready for changing realities
a cloudless calm now in meditative expansiveness,
ready to change from dark, cloudy turgidity
to it's contrast, white feathery fluff that's dreamy.

This time round, when she visited,she did lie naked
on my bed supine, looking at me wistfully for a while
in my mind's sky beams of morning sun criss- crossed
all the nine openings of my body tightly shut, I sat meditating.

But I felt her chaotic presence in the energy field spreading,
she hurriedly removed her clothes one by one,smiling
in the buff she alights on my lap,a butterfly on a flower was her,
by and by a sweet heaviness enveloped my *****, in union with hers

I hear the primordial boom of the big bang, refining as an "Om"
travelling sans any medium it goes outwards to expanding universe.
to the 1"Chidakasha" where everything begins and go beyond.

Her storm energy, Tantric, seeks alleviation of existential pain,
I hear my glowing inner eye whispering in  light to the far galaxies,
In one form she is so much, past present and future converged,
She is 2"Mahatripurasundari", great enchantress of the three worlds.
Shakthi, the feminine energy that moves earth, heaven and hell,
Kali, the dark energy, seeking sublimation through catharsis.

On me she moves like a tortoise deliberately,my nervous system reads,
She would defeat the hare and win the laurel, in yogic, trance I discern.

I wasn't listening to the whispers of the moment
that embraced me tight; her vigor was such that
I did completely surrender to the bliss enveloping.

The night, spiritedly dancing, said something softly
in her characteristic language,darkness spotted with light.
A distant star,witness to this pantomime got impatient, yelled
at me for not listening; being unaware of the larger picture:

" I am past,robbed by light years, kept a prisoner for your eyes,
still unabashedly yearning to be in present,keeping my hopes alive,
Listen to what night says, get the essence of the moment, remember,
the morning is going change everything,then it would be lost for ever.

The night fell silent for a moment,extending her tender hand, winked.

"Perhaps I am late" perplexed he thought and rushed forward,
the place was deserted as if an invisible  cloud of grief has descended.
The intermittent gun shots , he mistook as the beginning of  fireworks,
he stepped on the manicured lawn, wondering where all others had gone.

He stopped stunned,blood was splattered allover, there a night began .

Can't wait any more,
darling,reach out,
just touch my lips
with your index finger,
red hot with desire.
I am ready to melt
as convergence of
lust, passion and love
happens in that order.

വയ്യിനി കാക്കാന്‍

തെല്ലും വയ്യിനി കാക്കാന്‍ പ്രിയേ,
ആസക്തിയാല്‍ രക്തവര്‍ണമാര്‍ന്നോരാ
തുടുവിരൽത്തുമ്പാൽ ചുണ്ടിൽ
 മൃദുവായ്  തൊടുകെന്നെ നീ.
രതിതൃഷ്ണയും ആസക്തിയും
പ്രേമതാപവും മേല്മേല്‍,
തിരമാലകൾപോലെ വന്നെൻ
ഉള്ളത്തെകലക്കവേ,
ആര്‍ദ്രനായ്, രാഗോന്മാദാൽ
നിന്നിലലിയാൻ കൊതിപ്പൂ ഞാന്‍!
(Malayalam Translation)

There flows an  invisible, river of subtle emotions he felt,
separating the immediate reality and the realm of art;
gazing the reclining ****,with a pair of eyes conjured,
he  levitated to the other bank of reality as if by magic,
while she waited and waited,somewhat perplexed,
then her eyes intervened, made him cross over so fast.

The ship(notified) lost
leisurely drifts over waves
westwards, "Unhurried hereafter"
is the slogan written on it's mast
it would seem to an onlooker.
A net is cast wide,
to catch as much fish
as the tired crew now needs.
Each furious wave
that rushes towards the ship
changes tack, proclaims
a frothy message of peace.
No more communication exchanges
causing disturbances, no hurry any more.
None waits for the lost ship,
in any distant shore, with a binocular,
or spanning a Radar, uneasily .
The crew had already forgotten
every mission undertaken before.
It has no schedule, deadlines, plan
the ship feels more buyout than ever before
,just floats along, as if it's a tranquil thought,
towards the direction where
the purple sun prepares to set dramatically.
Accompanied by two astonished whales,
sailing along like two mates, the ship,
now a lone wolf,with a hidden yearning
has become more alive, once declared lost.

A yellowing leaf,
Meditating on
never ending "AUM",
the boom created by
mountain winds
incessantly blow,
happily hallucinates
a world altogether new
somewhere, not ever known.
Persuasions of a breeze,
with the caressing words of a Guru
makes it gently let go the branch
and bravely claim freedom
from the grief bequeathed for life,
a pain, constant reminder
of transience of life--
From the low hanging branch
of a fig tree on a wintry hill,
the leaf somersaults to a valley below
painted in psychedelic colors,
a territory unknown
It's
falling
           falling  
                       falling
                                  to
                                   what it thought
                                   a
                                  sea
                          ­         of
                              o b l i v i o n
                                  But
in amazement find, the sea is all-knowing
  absolute--------consciousness------------bliss

The ethereal transactions of two pairs of eyes,
has happened at the speed of lightening.
A decision was struck in a moment, at a secret space
for communion,  far beyond the conscious mind,
with the precision of a chemical reaction orchestrated,
where past, present and the unknown, miraculously converged.

A deal is done effortlessly; the desired finish of a chain reaction.
Nucleic acid double helix strummed tunes,for the composition,
the commerce two bodies have transacted for nature, has echoes
beyond the scope of mathematical equations to explain the event,
it zooms to the beyond, in to the secret accounts of cosmos eternal,
where the matter assumes the blissful form of "pure consciousness".

Fallen deeply in to a pit, devoid of words,
           marked by shrapnels of  silence,that repeatedly explode,
her soul in pain, yearned to caress him once again
            with fingers of repentance, rekindle the love frozen
but then, he wasn't moved by the tender feeling
              to seek or grant forgiveness  for old times sake,
wearing  a crusted armor, he had crossed the Rubicorn,
              that subtle level where such things of heart matters.

Foaming sunlight makes love
                 with the tender purple leaves of mango trees,
light crafts a crust of luminescence,
                  over the profusion of yellow and blue blooms,
avenue trees vie with each other to  hold forth
                  their  flowers on sun's water fall of light to bath.


Evening doesn't show any sign of waning
                   the ebullience  the day had sowed in the world,
"ANANDA" though unspoken as a word, aloud
                    is heard by  inner being, making everyone rejoice,
living and nonliving seamlessly join in,
                    and swim in the swelling  waters of force of life.
past invisible floats gently to the present
                  flows towards a sea of tranquility crossing nights.

I'd need a billion eyes,
to read you, if I attempt
to imbue as a whole,
I would need every
neuron in this world,
but you make it simple
by letting me seep
in to you in the end
swimming to  infinity
crossing the murky stream
of time - space continuum
"Bliss I am" I am aware,
I surrender, merge, jettison
all unwanted baggage,
and be one with the eye
that is witness to all,cosmic play
I now see; you , me and them
are one, and forget once and for all
all that are futile ego constructs,
realize I am omniscient, timeless
and we as one flow in the cosmic essence.

Ocean currents exuberant, spell out what turbulence, really is
expressions of brute force, takes over the whole of ocean depth,
a puny little fish, blinded by thick foam, navigates alone, finding path,
sheathed in a silence going beyond mind,to a destination luminous,
never perturbed, calmly exploring that state, not fully discernible yet,
an impression abstract, getting infused with more and more clarity
each passing moment,then the orchestra of waves resonates with heart.

I feel the lubricious eloquence of fingers of love,all over
through  wind and waters, moonbeams from far heavens,
that alleviate my pain of separation, when I am left alone
in those caresses an unmistakable message I get,I sigh.

But you never acknowledge my presence not even once
do not even care to imply  that you've seen me by chance.

day and night for me makes no difference, blinded by love
I am shameless, want to hear your voice sonorous, everywhere
you play hide and seek with finesse,remain alien to my ears.

The sanctity of my love is there for all to see,a sparkling diamond,
but every sign indicates that you don't melt in my temperature
colts let loose, my words are buoyant,eager to come to you, touch

But confused by your signals they run helter-skelter
not knowing how to seek you, where to search for,
how would I phrase my love to you,that sears me every minute,
for eons, never fulfilled as you refuse to walk by me, with a smile

But you remain  my only love,pursue you, sure I would
the scent distinctive and the flower are one, no denying it.

The fluorescent fish, much adulated is now  terribly bored,
it's ornamental existence and the excessive attention received
  soon turned to unbearable hassle and made him reckless,
seeks adventure in shallow waters he knows danger sure lurks.

A juicy bait, in fact an artistically concealed deceit,she had spun
is lowered by her from the fishing rod she wields, when near water
her eyes gleam seeing the painted fish, obviously an easy catch,
breaking the barrier of water his and her eyes disastrously meet,
he reads the meaning of her hard- sold deceit as love; perfect!

She still is the greenest tree in absence,
              in my land of obliterated dreams,
the golden fruit my heart desired,
              still hangs there, a phantom limb,
my mind hibernates,under the shade of
                   the banyan tree of renunciation,
still my battle is fierce,Buddha path
                  or tempting fruit of unquiet desires.



ബോധി വൃക്ഷത്തിലെ കാമഫലം

എൻറെ മായ്ച്ചുകളഞ്ഞ സ്വപനങ്ങളുടെ ഭുമിയിൽ
അഭാവത്തിലും പച്ചച്ച മരമാണവൾ
എന്റെ ഹൃദയം  മോഹിച്ച സുവർണഫലം
ഒരു 'ഭൂതാവയവം'പോലെ അതിൽ
ഇപ്പോഴും തൂങ്ങിക്കിടക്കുന്നു !
നിരാസത്തിന്റെ ആൽമരത്തണലിൽ
എന്റെ മനസ് ഹേമന്തനിദ്രയിൽ.
ഇ പ്പോഴും എന്റെ പോര് തുടരുന്നു ;
ബുദ്ധ പാദം പിന്തുടരുകയോ ,
അശാന്ത മോഹങ്ങളെ തേടിച്ചെന്നു പുണരുകയോ?
(MALAYALAM translation)

The trees in the valley far down remains to the viewer's eyes green,
she came back cleaving the hills of dead leaves, blocking the way
her songs vibrant,indeed like it was in a  time long past,hard to forget,

One is in for wonders if the time travel is done mindful,dispassionate,
life is a garden full of strange flowers, bloomed at various times ,
standing still, magically fresh, all along ready to be plucked at  will,

But one easily falls to corruption, blinded are the eyes of the fallen,
this is a  game, playing the role alone matters,nothing else elevates,
don't forget, flowing with the current alone ,takes the drop to the ocean.

She came back, I suppose to complete the circle of illusion,we are in
nevertheless the imaginary places she scented,still cause me an elation.

Every **** too wants to tell it's story to us loud,
my eyes trained to span galaxies light years away
weren't good seeing the flowers,on weeds for long,
then an unexplained  lightening connecting all cells,
flashes within, I turn back and see things in a new light,
those blue and yellow flowers kept hidden by an invisible
blind,smile with a joy and it brings anew a  vision of beauty.

A flower is a flower, even if offered by a humble ****,
like the words I heard spoken from a sleepwalker's lips,
with a less emphatic tone smeared with dusts of dreams
still I hear it's heart beat, a cadence so exhilarating.

Every rice plant in the field, drooping in the heaviness
of ripened grains, is muted, the wind that caresses both
are equally cool,benign; every **** wishes to explain,
so I won't miss their music, even by some chance did misshapen.

That girl doesn't inspire me a bit, let me guilelessly confess,
the one that sits right there,diametrically opposite to my roving eyes,
in her cozy corner, shielded from the view of most  others,
filling the seat exactly with her perfect curvaceousness,
she has false promises written all over her many allurements
for me (who else) bored to death, at this blighted moment,
triggered by scrolling account statements when all I love to see
are words, dainty pulchritudinous words, I can munch always.


In spite of my valiant efforts,to make do with what is at hand
and appreciate the poetic bit, her body language whispers,
as my existential compulsion demands, I couldn't move any further.

I do my best, try to caress her gently with my brooding  eyes,
trying hard not to look duplicitous, but my eyes, curtained off
with boredom and drooping, easily lose focus, seeing this,
her eyes pop out,yet my arrows that lost verve hit sometimes!

Now, with enthusiasm renewed,she gives it a try,but repeatedly fail,
every shot she returns is a  blank, such a cruel curse of cupid!
She is an impostor, tamed sheep cross dressed as a wanton she wolf,
the easy chemical repulsion, lectures  to me on the alchemy of affinity,
but how can I complain, it's not a clause  in her letter of appointment.

You are the  invisible canvas on which I am a painting indelible,
every minute you reflect in this mirror, my thirsting soul,
history of this love immortal,  begins beyond the portals of time,
but my love, for ages, I've been searching relentlessly for you since.

What do I call this love, that consumes my every life,remains anew!
in wake, sleep and in the realm of dream, I feel your sublime presence,
my heart, filled with wonder, but at times  slips in to a haze of despair,
then your presence becomes  palpable as wind, rain or purple sunshine.

There isn't anything perfect,than this  love, chants the Milkyway
invisible you are, but never ever, for a moment your presence is not felt
isn't it your mantra  of love immortal, my heartbeats repeat?
*You are perfect,  that glory I too reflect; I am within your embrace.

An army of ants, black, brown, red and white, in disciplined columns,
each one no less than any other,armed to the teeth, ready to ****
on their marauding march,find this giant, not a day too long ago was
too fierce as a man,  whose reign of  terror was most feared, lying still,
as if all those deeds were  incidental,and he in no way is to be blamed.

They are equanimous, the ants, next wave, this is no more than just debris,  this relic from the past, for them, something to be dealt with,
the army of disciplined ants, as per their manual, meticulously inspect,
whether the body has some strength  left somewhere in the system,
to pull together rise, overcome the fatigue of a life full of misdeeds
not nice to remember,  counted all the same as glory by sycophants.

They want to finish the work fast, fearing the return of the nightmare,
busily they went on doing what they are good at,they had their brief,
from the command center ,to clear up the debris from the battle front,

The last of the ants leaving  the gnawed white bones,  under moonlight,
writes the epitaph on sand,with it's spindly legs,thus:"This fort too fell"

Hanna to me is the  BEGINNING of an evolution,
She finds me the END(of her fervent seeking for long)
Many worlds (we knew) existed between us until then,
Willingly crunch to make a perfect ONE from the debris.

A dark piece of night sky, I stole to wrap around my naked soul,
then traveled all alone as a penitent to the heart of the darkest night,
to forget,the letdown; you not being in our rendezvous as promised.
Between barren earth and mute sky, a kite adrift; losing  love I am lost.

Enigmatic super moon was the only woman,
he fell madly in love with, in his entire life;
that's how the history of his life has become
an imaginary tale, a myth written in invisible ink.

A circus ring this is, don't forget that just because,
the big top isn't there and you aren't in fancy clothes,
trained animals, all have taken human forms,clever disguises,
the ring master frequently changes,one often finds oneself at the
receiving end as someone or the other lashes out, immutable, it is!

Look at her killer smile, the flying trapeze is her favorite act.
The tiger that stands beside the girl is purring for now, but her roar
makes you sleepless day and night,one smells fear in the air.

The audience is silent,no smell of blood wafts, though impatiently
they sniff in the air, without any evil wish,think some animal,
will go berserk and a spectacle unexpected will unfold.
A circus ring is a place unpredictable, the tense moment
every one has predetermined, would be the best,
wait with bated breath,in this tent, life is a mystery , til the end.

"Ïn love with the moons"
in to her ear, his inebriated
soft murmur pours,

"Don't tell me that"
she playfully taunts,
"So wicked you are,
moon, one or the other
feels the pinch a bit too much"*

Her disagreement,was meant
to be just the opposite,
the logic of which is clear, only
to lovers, in intimate moments.

Every touch is so orchestrated
to create a provocative effect,
as if there is a secret pact between
the moon and the gentle flow
caressing the mossy river bed, the tide
that  comes in with full force,
and flows out spreading peace.

They both stand under the spell,
full, milky moon and wildly dance,
till the effect of moon induced amour
completely, conclusively subdues.

God has eaten my luscious mango
showing up in the disguise of a squirrel,
no  expression of remorse either,
just vanished without a trace,
did not return ever after.
                                       God, please do not bother,
                                        usually you are a do-gooder
                                        I too am, let's have a pact,
                                       for a while I'd have the moon, instead.

A wild rider through the prairies of life, extending to far horizons,
in my veins the true spirit of intergalactic nomads, stardust,
from many past lives brims; it sets the tone of my enduring quest.
My  indefatigable steed, and me are one in our thoughts and heart.

Through her changing  hues and moods, nature speaks to me, inspires
drenched in moon beams, to the uplands we would  traverse,
then come the slopes descending to deep pits and dark hollows,
my prairie homestead, tucked away in that valley distant,to me
is a dream mysterious; dense solitude keeps it for me as a secret.

A miraculous herb, I found by chance, among the flora rich,
keeps thirst and hunger at bay, and the quest continues unhindered,
low hanging fat, white, clouds change the display in varied forms,
to regale us as we cross the badlands, that try to bog us down in vein.

Love caressed me at times,like gentle wind,once a whirlwind
made me lose bearing,with a thorn made a slash across my heart,
love is a sweet pain, but losing a beloved, a crusted ugly scar,
but the traveler is in a trance, still led by the pole star's lonely light,

The bows and arrows I destroyed after long  introspection,
herds of bison as I pass would notice,see me empty handed,
stand still as if in a guard of honor, to watch me pass with a smile                     
Still night, embellished by starlight, sung lullabies to us weary souls.
my steed and I go diving deep,hungrily in to the pool of sleep
                                                           ­                                       
**Sleep, wakefulness, day and night; all encased within a dream.
I, my steed and the lives the prairie embraces, and the galaxy  are one.

This precisely is the secret hour, that brings to an end
of the long wait of patient bats, now let them ecstatically mate,
mind, wakes up from stupor,in creative instinct,becomes a ******,
though peering in to own hidden shadows, from a pantomime past.
Silence of many shades reign in the mansion of magic beyond space,
along the labyrinthine inner corridor, lighted seldom or even never.

The dark nimbus clouds above, purge, thunder roars,victorious,
outside the cave rain in torrents lashes, winds whistle like possessed,
heart fills with an urge urgent,words fumble to express with verve,
blind bats, hanging upside down, wake all at once, shaking wings,
they arise creating a cacophony,then the transformation is quick,
what results is a frenzied ****** fight for colored words to mate.

The pairs suited most, in the crowded cave , intuitively selected,
commandeered, brought together, merged perfectly, without effort,
blending with the rare beauty of light filtering in, striking images
of different hues appear on the screen, moving pictures of creation.

Everything is still here except,a fecund sense, awareness in fire,
thoughts are in a churn, turn towards the starlit firmament,
and fertile red earth doused in the scent new rain roused,
blue water expanses, rippling moves as waves after waves
all finally settle, mind's creative pool now, is a placid reservoir.

Astonished he is, by the immortality of words, that acquire
an escape velocity to project, shoot up through the clouds,
it's payload, is carried by a  fuel, alchemy created propellant,
that ensures poetic transcendence,the fused golden words live long.

The creative moments, are pure  wonder, when within the folds
of primordial sound,he waves silk blending it with golden threads,
The poet becomes the word first and the word speaks through  him,
poem is a canal perennial,for the flow of desire, hope and pain concealed deep,all projected by the  mind continuum that never sleeps.

To ogle you
every time
I have to find
an excuse
     new.
Lucky you!
you have
a legitimate excuse
each time.
Even the most
clandestine moves
my eyes deftly make,
wouldn't miss,
your notice.
In a swift move
you bind them
with yours
while they
illegally steal you
inch by inch,
head to toe.
Then,I witness
the magic,
only love could
perform;
with the
language of light
in which
your eyes are adept,
you demand me to acquire
legality, in a date, not too late.

My beloved night was dense,dark, wavy, soft velvet,
fully naked, moving in rhythm with me,  frenzied, sweet,
we moved heaven and earth to reach the acme of delight,
then flew in to a sudden  culmination,words fail to express,
the day dawned, blazing molten gold,ages were  impatient steeds,
together we rode, gained wings, became transcendentals, sublime
reached that tranquil, trident  blue peak where silence for ever reigns,
we had a deep yearning to sit and peer deep in to each other's eyes,
and see what remains after the last wave returns to the ocean's heart.

Above the emerald mountain,ran a river that fell in to an abyss,
the white foam of it's smile told us, about all we sought thus far.

"Ÿou have reached here in your frenzied search for the elusive
chasing the essence of a conundrum unexplained , cyclic, cryptic"
looking at  us sang a little bird, from a low hanging branch
of the tree of diamonds, that shaded us with it's clear light.
We felt the thousand petaled lotus  bloom within us that moment.

"Day and night are the horses that draw the chariot you ride,
an oasis you'll reach, then  hear stories that would ease your pain
you are in a story that reflects on the periphery of a bubble,
that exists in innumerable worlds simultaneously and hence
none is real, your truth you create,every minute and live"

We are somnambulists, that sit and paint colors in our fanciful dreams,
when we smile the colors stick to our souls till the apparition dissolves.

A  deep rumbling,reverberates
triggering a yearning for fusion
from the limitless inner sky.
A flash of lightening touches
heaven , earth and roots of being,
starting a chemical change,
in a moment of divine communion.
From the mere carbon, just the mundane
a diamond is born, in the womb of time,
don't let it fall off from the layers of passion.
hold it together in cupped hands
carry on all through the journey, til end.
I didn't know then,
a pearl falls out, when it gets
ripe within the oyster
can't remain hidden.
Your eyes told me without words
about the essence of that immortal moment
I touched your burning brows
and got electrified, glowed
with my touch you floated
as a flower in that scented air
I felt a peacock feather dipped
in your love, caressing my burning heart.

And when at last she fell asleep,
For my sweetheart i kept vigil.
Synching my life breath,
With her rhythmic heart beats,
For her I wrote,this song.
But she couldn't listen, not even once,
Though only for her I weaved it.

Night had her rendezvous with dawn,
At the end of her painful journey with little light,
My love left without a word, never to return
To gift me that lingering,tantalizing, sweet pain,
That makes me real; keeps the lover in me alive.

My orphaned song of doomed love,
Lost all it's meaning at that moment.
Like a lover who lost way to the rendezvous,
It kept on knocking my door, ever after.
In the insistent beating of the sea waves' passion
I heard my lost song ringing once again.
On a night the melancholy moon,went hiding.
I sat alone soaked in pain and sang my song.
It made me melt, I deeply felt,nature too sang along,
In a frenzy, I never ever did witness before.
Then, the pale moon, on an apparel in transparent cloud,
Danced forgetting all her pain , that found expression in many ways.

I now realize,that song wasn't just mine,
It has a life of it's own,in tongues it spoke.
Day and night to lovers, jilted, all those lost by mistake,
Now, it has a life of it's own, independent from all
Anywhere it  would  go alone.

                             I wrote a song, for none in particular,
                             Soon did I realize, it speaks to all pain filled hearts,
                            Love created the wistful mood,
                            My time alone with her filled the words.
                             And one day everyone who heard
                             This song sung,  will leave, but the song won't.

                            The night air will be filled with it's mute waves of pain,
                           On it the distant stars will float.
                            The wind will hum it,the interstellar space,
                            Will echo, it's cadence aloud.
                            Neither the words would  fade
                           Nor my passion for her ever would die.

At the peak his roar is in the words of mountain winds,
a rare sweetness it brings out,a flow natural from his self,
she acquires then the lilt of a song bird,flying in an open cloudless sky,
a song bird that has sweetly pecked her aggressive mate to submit,
something she couldn't believe,that astonishment becomes her croon.

They soar, the illusion of wings make them both lose bearing,wobble,
going up, up to dizzy heights,above the caressing silver white clouds,
then slowly tumbling down on earth,they feel like feathers entwined.

The wind whistles a tune,eyes widely closed they jive, time stands still,
that sweet exhaustion,prods for one more dance above the clouds.

In this avaricious, amorphous haze,
spreading it's net around to usurp all at sight,
everything in no time lose color, dissolve,
except my unflinching hope in love, that ever keeps vigil--
those silver rays of light, your eyes save for me day and night.

Shipwrecked and  all at sea, yet I float on, looking  for that one beacon,
when the twilight colors of mind too is getting washed in darkness,
your ray of love awaited from distance, is my only solace
my heart asks: will you find me here,before the waters eat all?

"Ähoy" a sudden call, that speaks so much ; looking up I see,
a face familiar for ages,up above the dark, sturdy Palmyra tree,
thirty feet high, amidst  the lush canopy of thick green leaves,
his toddy tapper's gear, unchanged for generations, around his waist,
just a breast plate to protect from the rough trunk, while crawling up,
a broad smile, time couldn't wither, on that countenance.

An ancient avatar, he jumps out  from a favorite story book,
of  childhood, he animated a lot of memories of those times,
walking through the narrow path among trees,a loud "Ähoy"
would  unexpectedly greet dad and I,  from where the wind reigns,
unaware there is world above, ready to reach us, any time,
cut in to our animated talk on atlas moths with broad wings,
or amazing things, Malabar squirrels that fly from tree to tree.
"Ähoy! Raman!how'z toddy flow today? All fine?"
his voice booming  from below, dad would cheer our friend;
more like talking to the wind and trees, pleasantly surreal.

"Ähoy"makes all fall in place, Raman hasn't changed a bit,
time flows only down here, up there  it seems standing still,
my little village too has a trap, I suspect, time has no way to escape,
if it makes the river languid, no, Raman seems not to mind!
"Master" the old familiar endearment, "Ẅhat's the matter?
from here, above the clouds, I can see those brooding eyes,
The city, shall I say took all those smiles, you would gift
as a village boy , going to school with your chums, this way"
I know what comes next, fresh toddy served with love as an antidote,
right here under the tree, a brew that  brims with memories
of many guilty pleasures of adolescence,can I ever reject?

No worry lines on that gentle face, Raman is ageless, cool,
we sit on a pre historic rock, that extends  seating arrangement,
in to container, he made with braided Palmyra leaf,
Raman pours limitless love that for others would look like toddy,
to me this milky liquid, is a magic potion tapped from memories,
of a past that I thought has winged  away from me but still here.
I gulp it  and get transported to a time, I don't want to forget,
Now the wind, I can hear hums an old haunting tune,familiar
In mild intoxication, we chorus the wind's song on Palmyra leaves.