In the backwaters, as waves lapped on a canoe violently rocking
we kissed;  two eager lovers quickly turning in to winged creatures,
eyes shut, she crushed her malleable ******* against my chest,
we took this journey through the labyrinth of love leading to
the gallery of ****** artifacts, arranged in progression, in our minds.
Her lips swelled up and took mine so deftly in to their control,
and in some moment when our languid eyes opened unawares,
the kiss , a golden fish swished in to the water, gleefully swarm around,
the gathered backwater fish , viewed astonishingly this rare species.

A freezing drop of water,
oozing from a distraught cloud,
(wanted to be a feather in the
cloud's dark watery wing
till it would in torrents rain
in as much distant a land possible
that thirsts,while  reeling under drought,)
forced out, slips in to the sultry air,
halfheartedly,
not even aware of
what it is really,
quickly becomes steam
in another minute,
now, fails to recognize itself,
subjected to an  identity crisis.
A story of self oblivious sacrifice,
that speaks of pain, unexpressed.

Water drop,let go everything,
Just meditate on the touch down,
an eternity in between passes in a flash,
the immeasurable complexity  of time!

Pollen on your lips,
a bee in search of it,
I usurp it, get more
than what I asked for.

ഈ തേനീച്ച കൊതിച്ചതിലേറെ

നിൻ ചുണ്ടിലെ   പരാഗം
തേടിയെത്തി തേനീച്ച ഞാൻ
കവർന്നതു ഞാൻ  നുകരവേ
കൊതിച്ചതിലെറെ ത്തന്നു നീ

Her loneliness wears maroon,
                 I am aware," to her yin, my yang,"
mine in deep purple echoes,
                the density that's her, in my presence.
On an island of her own, she sojourns,
                 where there is comfortable room for two.
A happy recluse she is, ruminating,
                 diving deeper in to the sea of consciousness.
What does it really mean?
                  we are wound around a "KOAN", working on it,
wouldn't stop to think,  I flow
                    with the insistent gravitas of the current,
Through her the dense silence speaks,
                     in voices clear,  heard within me.
all beyond words, and in a far more
                     subtle plane, than this existence.

She is a man,in the blood stream,
gushing within her veins.
He acts her woman, willingly,
and he likes it every bit.
Together they create by chance,
a tumultuous ****** history,
never before seen, perhaps.
This subversion remains a secret,
with a meaning, on which
they never ever bothered.
A mighty cyclone, she transforms
that uproots structures monumental
if she really wants to trample everything.
He is a prankster wind,that love
billowing saplings; ripe rice as well.
Hovering on air, over land and water,
tumbling together, exploring depths,
they create mysterious wind patterns,
that add to the folk lore and myth.

Long wintry nights I endured, in my eyes lie frozen,
like an orphaned dog I roamed, how many many, lives?
Sniffing at every thing, looking for love immortal,
at times tied down by the unrelenting chain of pain.


A spring in my heart remains still, that spoke unfazed,
of the flowers of the valley, blue mountains and chirpy birds,
that fly crossing limits to sunny lands away and far,
where dreams in many colors flower in mirthful hearts,


Love was an oasis at the far end of the desert,I reached at last after
meandering through desert tracks  lined on both sides with cactus
but the oasis I found was long deserted,the spring fully dried,
it turned out to be a mirage, created to trap me forever.


My soul was still a land of light where a wise bird kept on singing,
cheering  me to move on,  to reach the last and highest peak,
the wise speak about in meditative silence  day and night.
it was in sight, beyond the mind, mount Kailash of my dreams,


In the icy lake waters I dipped thrice, and took three circles around,
the morning mist cleared, like burnished gold the mount  gleamed,
my climb I started, those golden steps to fulfillment.

"You have no reason to be disappointed"
A disembodied voice, mysterious, gently  consoles,
After a  long walk, he reaches the hilltop, stands  wondering.
The sun in a hurry was slanting  down to the western sky,
Billowing dark rain clouds have changed the setting
of the usual sun set; darkness invites quick questions
spoken in the voice of thunder, promptly lightening
answers to each question, in a  serious clear voice.

I saw me walking alone, along the path
feeling upset, I followed me noiselessly
curious, to find out,  what would happen, next,
with my heart relentlessly  pounding my chest.

I rang the bell of the house I lived as some other,
the door wasn't closed, so I could see
I have already gone, leaving the place,orphaned,
to that  destination, mysterious.where another tale begins.

My home once, is presently empty, signifying this :
"I am this, also  that and the other, the  next too,
I am multitudes, in everything I am present as a wee bit"
When I was alone, I wasn't, in fact; while moving away
I didn't go anywhere, all the while,ecstatically, "I am that"

Addicted though, instinctively
to that enchantress, dark angelic night,
sweet condensed sleep, eyeing at me,
moon's silver light, naturally
remains my beloved, closer to heart,
One great delight, is this:
my contradictory wish list, that adds up.
I am unfazed, proudly
carry the contradiction of this world
in my every vein.

Has any one any legitimate business
to ask me to choose one or the other?
What you see as contradictions, won't stand,for long
easily merge,dissolve and vanish to take a new life,
as standpoints change, vision gets deeper,
illusions wear off, as darkness leaves,
and  mind learns to transcend beyond
all the self imposed limits. once seemed formidable,
I delightedly see the brooding night
making peace with the waxy melting moon,
falling silently in pearly drops from the sky.

Lone duck, bitten by an insane urge, turns and turns,
endlessly on water plane, creates a churn, a pattern on water,
as if to meet itself in a moment of stillness in between,
when will it happen? His life passes as that illusion still lasts.

The soliloquy of the night,
what we think as
falling stars and meteors,
make time and space immaterial
in the transmission of pain across light years.

Sitting here alone, a sentinel
to pain's interplanetary travel,
and witness of it transforming
in  to other forms, eloquent,
I hear them when my eyes,
acquire a sense, primordial
receive the dark waves
of pain in my veins
a volcano palpitating to blow up
in to  fireworks of emotions.

Everywhere eyes could travel, is filled
by night, thick, gooey, agglutinated;
then the meditative darkness,
dreams up a beam of  gentle light,
out of its deep transcending yearning,
to speak to itself,to get  an alchemy work on that pain
then, the pain itself becomes a haunting journey with words
this ,is how  my love, my songs
in the midnight of my lonely soul, are born.

Eyes are blue gleaming diamonds,
words concealing gold dust
are sealed between the lips
that avidly taste thunder,
expression of my hidden hunger.
Hands bind me closer til
rib cages say "No more"
Like nibs, nails on my back
write ****** verses direct,
forcing one to spread eagle
as the orchestration moves to crescendo
itinerant eyes emit sizzling light,
the cloud that engulfs , caresses every inch,
a bamboo grove in wind
dances whispering love, in many tunes,
tells one to lie under it's canopy, I submit,
hear my songs from a secret center,
eyes speak the lingo of  love, light spills
heart beats against heart, in mad frenzy,
we need no words any more.

A hunter is in my core, with an angry roar,
                   in to this forest I stray with a vengeance,
where ancient trees, serpentine vines,
                   with thick under growth tangle like ghosts in heat
and there in the dark center stands
                  the mysterious beast wearing a grotesque mask,
the heroic hunter can't wait any longer,
              **he removes the mask, I face me, the intrepid beast.

On a crazy high, I share whole of  myself with you, gladly
your melting heart I took over fully, do you feel it as a loss?
when love makes us so insane,  we go berserk like wild fire,
avaricious kids, now we are,  usurping each other in parts,
where will it all lead, my love, baffling it is, but elating all the same
would we be just the same ,or less; perhaps more than what before?

A burning desire,more than anything he has known,
often he thinks a name should be given
propels him to explore inner world more and more
he dives down hopefully, yet another time
to the still center of the churning maelstrom ,
finding a diamond,from the dark depths of secrets
is still possible after all these trials and frustrations ,
though every time before, what he retrieved,
in broad day light turned out only to be a smooth pebble,
--each poem tells him to begin all over again, with  renewed vigor

A whisper in your ear,
that stirs you, in your sleep,
like fingers of  a dream, wind I am,
that caresses your high peaks
make you nod your head
in a sweet pleasure, not known before,
moaning softly wanting more and more,
permitting the flirty wind to take liberties,
his fingers wandering down
while you feebly try to stop,
in a half hearted   way.

I am the transparent cloud,
that wraps  your alluring curves
with the Kashmir shawl of fog
when the bleary eyes of lecherous sun,
fall on you and you want to get away
running fast from that humiliating moments.

The spring that oozes and drips,
at those moments of intense urge,
it seeps, flows through mossy brooks,
till it finds it way for true fulfillment

I am the fire you dream,the warmth in your
intimate moments,for the fulfillment in the alter,
all dark residues are burned, made pure
my joy know no bounds, when you become
my alter and I your holy fire burning warm and slow,

The breeze that undulates your globular fruits,
with gentle hands to give you goosebumps,
fills  each of your blank page with the gift of poetry,
and sing your songs till nightfall and then crawl,
to your bed rolling over to my side not to sleep.

Every single girl, he thought
he was deeply in love with,
one after the other
were opinionated mirrors,
only capable of unfaithful reflection,
interpreting him the way each pleased,
no two reflections, ever did coincide!

Where is the real him,
he always wondered
how fickle it all looked,
the place he stood by mere chance,
did make a difference, it turned out,
the dance, the dance, like one is made to walk
over the burning red  coal bed continues.

In a place that never existed anywhere,
leading a life that never ever happened
sparks of fire of wanton imagination,we are,
that will appear reflected in eternity's mirror
all these dreams are created by our illusory mind.

Every time she appears,
in the limelight, emerging
from the corners shadows prowl,
in no time she mercilessly steals
all the charm from girls all round
and then every one is compelled
to talk about her in hushed tones.

"Stop this wily moves to steal a march
do you think I am unaware of your tricks?"
in to her ear I would whisper,
as if advocating for others,who lose face,
when we dance face to face, in total abandon.

She would pretend innocence,
look at me as if she was cheated ,
go back to her silent  planning,
for the next theft between deft dance moves,
her disarming style, curtains off her wile.

In a nubile forest, once we
wanted to explore together,
under our wisdom tree
that has seen halcyon days
and draining droughts alike,
you sat strumming your lyre,
my head cradled on your lap,
singing for me a song,in Spanish
you promised a long time before.

wasn't it pure ecstasy?
did I drift to the sea, cut off from the anchor?

As the scented wind blew,
from the valley of flowers
to a dream we were  transported
in that dream we sang
and danced all night long,
till in the sea of forgetfulness,I dissolved.

And when the harsh light
pried  open my eyes  again,
I was lying alone under a wilted tree,
as if tumbled out of a bad dream.
What I thought happened, was just a dream?
Or am I still waiting for you to come
and make your promise come true, at last.

Delirious, my anxious mind  keeps asking
did you leave  me behind alone,
and moved ahead in search of your dream ?
An evil whirlwind chases me from behind,
I suspect that takes everything from my hand
and leave me sad,alone,  unconsoled.

The forest, is still nubile,
in my heart, nothing has changed
you are still the living light there,
under the lonely pale moon I'll wait,
till the time either you would return
or I'd lose hope, slowly wilt and fall.

An old fort, on top of the slopping hill
          sentinel to centuries rolling down still,
from where the sea for the lovers
           was a vague  dream, perhaps from another life,

this haunt mysteriously lures them again and again,
            to be together lost in passion for long hours,
In a time long before on the same spot,
           blood, had gushed like river after each fierce duel,

after the mad hiss of swords,
            thirsting for the blood of the other, the rival,
the howl of the wind, the salty taste on the lips,
            ***** love present as wild aggression-
in the explosive proximity of two
            full blooded animals, results in the hiss of kissing.

The ethereal bliss is  marred suddenly,
            by the howl of ghosts, time travelling in to their spirits,
in the throes of death,the vanquished, the other victor,
            in shock they both realize the hidden truth.

Her heart, beguilingly  florescent, spoke to mine,in signs invisible
when the night wore her darkest  cloak,making me lose my way
when I didn't know which way to turn and stood perplexed
her love spreads magic, emits colors, eloquent and sincere
pleasing not only to my eyes but heart too in tune with my beats.

Some times we were birds,wings lift us  involuntarily above winds
we would climb up through dark dark clouds, that wore thunder bolts
her love takes me by hand , navigates, her fluorescence was in full play,
love makes us favorites of winds,raging waves, sprays and water.

Under water love showed us magical colors,melting drops of bluegreen
tinged light, spoke tales of love to our entropic  hearts, that listened,
across the seas we swam propelling mind through incredible depths,
underwater castles waited for us , but in each other we were lost.

They would sneak out quietly in dark nights,
walk to the desolate beach slowly hand in hand,
and lie supine on damp white sand soaked in star light,
shedding from light years afar,counting stars as if it's their job,
wasn't that an esoteric ritual, prelude to a cosmic trance?

Love gifted a stole to keep them warm,
to her it was him and to him it was only her all along,
and on the sand bed in such nights they got to know secrets,
from the  galaxies,together they broke taboos of every imaginable kind.

They would wait for the seventh wave from the ocean's mind,
that was the moment they knew each other intimately than ever.
the seventh wave was a gift of pearls from the depth of unknown,
and the sharks were on the shores roaming alive like in fairy tales.

They kept awake for the seventh wind, that did blow promises,
on a space above, they hovered standing naked chest against breast,
the seventh wind told them many things, in to it's essence they delved,
wind, water, fire within, space in between,earth mother holds together,
an awareness , they roamed around the galaxies,wasn't it wonder itself?

Stillness of night reigns,
pale full moon conveys
something subtly ambiguous
to each one looking at her
from their respective stand points,
the most painful feelings
echo in the heart of the lover
alone in this jungle hideout
on a blind pursuit of
another kind of happiness
he can't forgo, even if he wishes.
Now the stillness is broken glass
roar of a big cat out in the wild
hunting the best of preys well fed,
an ecstatic mating call,
of an amorous parakeet,fallows,
In the rule of the jungle,
pain and pleasure co exist
any moment, like darkness and light,
the wheel moves on, interminably for ever.

Your lovely eyes(widened by a surgeon's knife) in happiness shine,
those pouting lips sure contain some fillers,to make them lusciously full,
and the make up that creates an aura,I can't fail to notice , is subtle,
yet, I hope the beauty invisible is pristine still in your tranquil soul.

Dark night, filling earth and sky, in silence; minty, silky soft,
like the music flowing from the lyre of a jilted lover, vengeful,
let me drink your sweet poison, that would curtain me off for now,
from the torture of light, the love in which I once lost myself, cherished
now I want to forget those days fully,and fly out of this house of pain

Aren't you a flicker of light
I love to imagine, as real?
Yet another dream
in a midsummer night
not easy to distinguish,
for my mind that
refuses to accept any limit.

A wish like a wild fire,
kept burning inside her heart,
she couldn't contain it any more,
so  whispered it to the heart of night,
fearing it would be forgotten easily
as the night advances to a destination unknown.

But the first golden ray of morning light, she gathered
was the sweet fulfillment she didn't know she sought all these days.

Some stories find no reason ever to end,
eternity is all ears throughout  the length.
On a plane different,some do not even begin,
possibilities sowed in  stardust lie in wait.

ചില കഥകള്‍ പറഞ്ഞു തീരുന്നതേയില്ല,
അനന്തത അതിനു ചെവിയോര്‍ത്തിരിക്കുന്നു.
മറ്റെവിടേയോ, ചിലകഥകള്‍ തുടങ്ങുന്നതേയില്ല,
നക്ഷത്ര ധൂളിയില്‍ വിതച്ചിട്ട സാദ്ധ്യതകള്‍ കാത്തിരിപ്പൂ
(Translated to Malayalam, a language of south India)

Your impassioned ****** blabber, a primordial prompt,
the seed, swelled,seethed feverishly for a while, sprouted
then surged in to a sea of love with all the intensity mustered
we drowned in that flood; there was only the sea of bliss.

A long forgotten art,  needed to reinvent it from the days past,
making a clay ***, the size of my heart, where everything started,
with my bare hands; I felt like a man in the primeval times.
The act but brought a sense of satisfaction, it seemed like a ritual
with therapeutic effects,but couldn't delineate what it was.
Was the red clay *** in my hand, a yearning, in symbolic form?

Was I trying to capture the elusive meaning of  life, in a way wrong?
life throws questions after questions at one, not wanting any answers!
And then one stumbles upon symbols, morphed in the depth of emotions,
with these forms, answering to the enigmas of life is done with ease.

A vessel perfect, it seemed to collect one's tears,wasting not even a drop
on the pool of tears, reflects my face, than any of the surfaces  before,
why then, her face too floats along with mine,  out of nowhere?
a nowhere called past,which never goes anywhere, even if charms are tried.

Swirling waters gush out, creating  chaos,
freeze in to ice, the silence follows, quickly
devours the spirit of that disorderly behavior;
memories of past sins are all forgotten, soon.

Her breath contained a signature scent, wild orchids secretly send,
a fleeting dab it was, but a swift lightening sketching the sky line
she need not speak, her mere nearness makes his heart spin like a top,
a lance dipped in honey smelling lilacs, hits there with poetic force.

Bleeding love, he is a tree bloomed before season, raining flowers,
why this, her presence or absence, an excruciating ordeal?
no green horn , his love has seen seasons, many a spring and fall.
anything physical has it's limits, this is beyond all comparisons!

The moon beams scorch him, blazing sun loses his power at noon,
poetry makes him wistful, when metaphors speak of hidden yearnings,
stop that haunting song, in a pitch high, difficult to bear it's taunt,
reminding her ,singing about her love, an ambiguous fantasy.

The plan was perfectly drawn
      nobody doubted it was flawed,
but every day and night added
     particular effects on the sketch,
each changing season had a whim
     that made a clear impact on it.

Even the most perfectly laid plans
      need to be approved by spirits
the cosmos will incessantly unleash,
      that in no way anyone can control.

The plans would never go wrong, I thought,
    her invocations to the mysterious
forces of universe, alone make it happen,
    in all humility now I realize!

Deeply I cherish, the feminine power,
       that walks with me matching step to step,
  in the true tradition  of brahminical wisdom, I chant:
      "Not for me, but all this sacrificial offering,
for the plants, animals and humans, the whole of universe.
       Each and every speck in this limitless cosmos
is webbed together, for ever and aye,
    Oh!   the consciousness that pervades in all
the connecting stream flowing to the ocean,
      be the lighted lamp, burning within,
dispel once and for all the darkness of ignorance."

She turned to a stone, before his unbelieving eyes!
in earlier times this would be counted as the result of a  curse,
an analysis, on how it happened seemed futile, so he didn't pursue
He chisel and hammer ominously were left somewhere,
she was irretrievably trapped, within a queer shaped stone .

On the riveting tiger skin,
intricate tantric motifs
nature has deftly sewn,
indicative of the mystery
of communion predicted
by the stars, the fish in
intergalactic oceans
that dream beyond time,

her lush, **** body spreads
in anticipation of the union
foretold,in palm leaf scrolls of yore
the ancients wrote, as revealed to them,
defying all human logic.

Shiva, merges with Shakthi
Lingam, the ******* plough of creation
seeks Yoni, the fertile awakened
feminine soil that awaits sowing.
The churning of the milky sea begins
in excited, repitative,  motions
till nectar secretes, bringing sublimation.

Then begins transformation,
she becomes the devine lust
of the universe, the receiver of pollen,
to create, proliferate, sustain and spread,
the circle of mystery widens every moment.

The tiger skin on which she lies
before him assumes its grand version now,
it's the sky, without a beginning or end,
she now is the drawing  of the universe
reduced to  the symbolism of female body,
a pure white piece of cloud, taken by wild wind
above hills, dales, that in course of circumnavigation
gets pregnant, then, rains in torrents over the earth.

the union, an energy in waves, spreads
creating fertile imagination, in all beings
earth in green pulsates, with the  universe,
the rhapsody resulted is in all colors.

In the inner labyrinths
when I  walk alone
a gazing benevolent  eye, I see,
the helix nebula of my origin
watching me, intently
beloved star, once a dazzling sun,
you refuse to go quietly
in to the night's ferocity
mother dear, in your core
undying love still burns
singing my favorite old lullaby.

I was infinity itself, as my father, in a poem he lovingly created,
wanted me to be figured, made me descend from a dream he had.
My mom, most fondly held this form, close to her heart
the epitome of her love for her man and the bloom in her womb
she gifted it, and they both together in a love boat, brought me home,
she held me closer to her *****, so warm I was even in coldest
of nights, yet another poem it indeed was, love set it's  tune.

        In a cloud of stardust I was, yearning to see far off stars dance,
through million years, I swirled, twisted, turned,found love in the end,
love brings perfection, my journey assumed  many many themes
love transformed a speck of dust; found a shiny little diamond.

The incessant march of time, is marked by the music of seasons,
wind blows, clouds race, rain in torrents fall, flowers bloom,
when I invariably return to see that perennial bloom on your lips,
time stands still, how we love this space beyond the reach of time!

Tall avenue trees, so lush, standing either side of the road,
heads bend inwards playfully, to touch foreheads together,
were  in a blooming contest, a riot of colors wherever one turns,
no wonder, remember, this is Bangalore, the city of countless gardens.

The noon sun eager to  join  the mirth, is generous with light,splash
over the flowers of many hues, violet, red, butter white, yellow,
and the many shades of green of the thick crown foliage make,
with a rare delight, never displayed, in any other time of the day.

A midday lull pervades, very few people on the street,he was
relishing the mood, smiling to himself,but the lone girl, full of cheer
walking towards him, decided to respond, with equal fervor,
just then, a sudden wild wind shook the trees, as if it was pre -arranged
causing a shower of pollen,drenching her all over, she stood stunned,
in response he ran forward, hoping to rid her of the profusion of pollen,
what  at that moment she needed was a hug; he gave it to her quick,
they stood looking eye to eye, certain dreams happen in broad day light
even forgetting that one is awake;before they realized they became
day light robbers, robbing each other's heart, in an idyllic moment,

Aum..Omm
the wind booms,
the holy chant
kept awakened
my inner power grid.

The invisible fingers of wind
play sensually
on the salacious forms
sand readily assumes.

Inside the pyramid
I built brick by brick
with my love for you,
hope and anticipation,
silence stood frozen;
ages rained over it.

I was oblivious of
anything other than love,
kept waiting for you there
in my anthill beyond time.

time immesurable passed
like waves after waves
beating on the sandy shores,
numbers are just the creation
of mind's illusions like time and space,
but love I believed would fight back
the vagaries of human transience.

and at last I see
a turtle swim above white form
of an imagined ocean, my love
I see you swimming along
a mysterious apparition.
the moment has come
to redeem me from this bind.

It's like coming up from
the depth of blue waters
escaping a death by drowning.
Seeing your smile  was like
an assurance for a place in the sun, all over again
but I stood stunned as you walked past in silence.

And when I chased, you dissolved like a mirage,
the shadow alone was left on the sands, a coiled serpent skin!

after a trek that felt like a lifetime, I found you again,
there , at my favorite oasis; but it wasn't you
I knew from the first sight.  
                                               On my lips you kissed
one last time, for the sake of love that kept us wait in vein
in words dripping pain you whispered in to my ears:
"This  isn't real my love, you are day dreaming,
forget me the flower bloomed in mirage, go back to depth,
stop vainly flitting in transience, only one way we can unite
eternity waits for us , it's not this shadow of love, but real"

Sitting cross legged on earth, in the wilderness alone quiet,
I meditate,on the single sprawling tree, in her poetic best,
verdant and robust, I wouldn't fail to see how ceaselessly
she did strive, in  reinventing herself moment after moment.

A bird, dedicating her song to the evening's evanescence,sings on,
like nothing else ever matters to her, even after it's end,
as she has known her inner-self better, by making her songs
more relevant, each time  than before,and than the songs of others,
without any reason particular, more by a compulsion mysterious.

While delving in to the depth of that compulsion, Marianne Moore,
I feel present in my mind, she is the tree fighting the creative battle,
not to  dislike her own creation,the bird with persistent compulsion.

And when the lights, once bright, one by one
in weariness shut their eyes, the last visitor
came in perplexed and stood still before
the one and only exhibit, kept specially for her.
An abstract artifact, creation of hearts through many summers,
a cry stifled in her *******, felt like a piercing knife to her,
But in that seeping darkness she didn't see a blob of blood
oozing out from it's center and dripping on the ground wetting her feet.

In a clinic, getting treated for amnesia of the soul,
I meet her, by chance and feel a sense of deja vu,
but can't place her properly,from which age do you appear?
you sure are her. Your face is familiar, even after ages,
then you ask me whether I remember; in my brain
solar flair like magnetic energy, light up hidden spaces.
The red poppy design, isn't it a pointer enough?
"The poppy effect.My insignia won't allow to forget
though I too fall in to a forgetfulness described as divine"
In a moment, it happens, I tumble down parting
thick clouds of stardust memories,fleeting, yet haunting,
intoxicating scent of poppies, ***** haze  takes me over

youth was the country, we've been banished from long time back,
I destroyed my passport, in an angst, that can never be expressed,
I land on my legs, flying down,before her curious eyes and smile,
interplanetary voyagers, we hardly know what happens to us,
like a poem with images broken as seeds  and spawn.

I was the naked man on your bed, the day you came in
under the cover of darkness, made love heartily till the morn,
you mourned aloud, I didn't stop you, no taboo,threatened me,
and you said, would never forget the play of natural instincts.
in many places we met, in some strangers, others as lovers,
each night different, with our bodies regaling in ****** finger play,
we sat opposite, had dinners, joked about blind dates, being swapped,
promised to be in touch soon and properly date, though not compelled,
to find out more about ****** habits and ,decide where to meet.

At the time of a heist, notorious, we meet in a diamond showroom,
you thought I am the kind pin that pulls the string.A mole I suspected
you were, though confident in duping you one more sweet time.
In this world of make believe, you can take me as any avatar you think.
Converging in each other's eyes, we reconcile and forgive. for this life
You whisper, "Ï knew you were a nihilist"Ẃe were, that and more,
exploring the core,till the essence inexplicable, will be  clear.

Appreciating a glass of fine wine, we sit opposite,to each other.
we shake hands and I see you off, from an underground station,
to a galaxy, light years away,called Pinwheel, a cosmic  spiral,
then, I realize, we don't exist, you , me or whoever think they are,
when we insist, we exist, forget it brother,only eternity, nothing else.

Morning mist frames her face, the contrast, he couldn't miss
a wild flower  fresh, bathed in dew drops, she becomes fulfillment.
A bee, as usual seeking honey,without being aware what awaits,
sleeps in her  chamber,couched in her love the whole night,
he stole her heart, she whispers, he keeps it as the fragrance
and the pollen smeared all over his being vowing never to remove,
a love it is, in essence different from all that he has hitherto known,
as if in a dream, stealing her heart,  he flies up to the ultramarine sky
all abuzz with love tunes , orchestration of nature, intoxicating,
his heart is full of light love fills, now this bee is even ready to die.

The river, her vigor sublimated, is a thoughtful flow
after the daring dive head on from the pinnacle of the cliff,
madly arrogant roaring rush through the dense woods
in spate during torrential monsoons muddy red,
satiated now, at ease, meditative, inner currents subdued.

These planes are different, the river an uncanny imitation of a pond,
the white swan, she  keeps still, unfazed by the pulls to four sides
falling in love with the enigmatic pink lotus, my witness
that blooms alone, in the marshy shallows, only for her to fall in love.

Amazing is the swan's prowess,she  makes the mighty river
accept her ease, wise tranquil pace and brings to a slow down
little by little, listening to the inner music,which is oh! haunting
the river now comes to trance yogi like, in sync with the
foaming green waves of trees along both the banks,
the whisper of wind to coconut leaves,if you listen
is the mystic mantra, "Ï am that..I am that..I am that"

wisdom isn't alien, don't look for it atop only the mountains
it's in the wind's hands,on the lap of  land and in water's prompt,
what space evokes when one merges seamlessly in nature's divine ,
the song one hears silent within, echoes aloud in nature's chant.

My heart is ruled only by her, the white swan.I realize.

You are the erroneous mirror
also the distorted, reflected figure,
and the observer, the  root cause of all,
just, comically absurd,if you see straight.
But this plight, to you remains alien always.
as the logic works outside the bubble.

A baby girl gently smiles in sleep
a young woman clad in military fatigue,
in a war zone, somewhere, for now quiet,
startled, not knowing why, wakes up,
the baby dreams a yellow butterfly
alighting on a bright red flower,
when mama was carrying her around
in a bid to put her to sleep, slapping
gently on her bottom; sleepy eyes close.
The 'woman soldier' (an oxymoron
for all those who could think)  a mother to boot,
is thinking about the plummentting population
of monarch butterflies, in the woods she once roamed,
the town she grew up, she now misses, in her thoughts flap wings.
She is worried about the change of climate,
though all she thinks is about the plight of the butterflies.

Now, she hears a gun shot at distance,
shudders thinking about the children
sleeping under the blankets, expecting no harm.
She imagines a baby smiling, gently in it's sleep
and on the shades of that memory, she feels calm,
gripping at the handle of the machine gun,
kept ready at hand to fire first at an enemy, any time.

One talks about peace, as fear gnaws deep at the heart,
the flame of love is  protected by cupped female hands
children securely sleep,in the  protective heat of mother's breast,
rise and fall of the *******, the smell of milk,enveloping my body,
til the day in my mother I  was enshrined in,
                                                                      I still can trace in my brain.

The woman soldier, may fall dead,hit  by a bullet
intentional or not.A war is a war, even a butterfly killed,
is considered enemy, at that time and place.It's grammar is hate.
The baby may have to live, for ever not seeing her mother,
who in the scene above was absent, may not return, ever.
The monarch butterflies would die in thousands and fall from skies.

We still try to cry, but there isn't any tear,climatic change burns eyes.
It's night, a pale moon mourns for the orange sun of the evening.
when the climatic change strikes, it's not in one place or time.
it erupts all over the globe, hearts bleed, love dies little by little.

Morning light, without fail tells me something new, about you!
Each day adds some more in my story book about your love,
Some little thing, makes me think about invisible you each moment.
What do I do other than being possessed by you, in spirit, body and mind.