She is a breeze,
gently wafts in,
in the fiery climes
she quickly transforms,
arousal of passion
makes her
a whirlwind fierce,
her spirited twists and turns
were beyond prediction
her predilection
to dominate becomes
so insistent
she turned to a twister
had an unrestricted run
the giant redwood
was uprooted in no time

Lazily I sit naked on my favorite  carved antique chair,
by the writing table, fully immersed  in Kamsutra zen,
the randy one barges in, with a smile,euphemistically reprimands:
"Man, have a heart, your ****** is being unfairly wasted again"

Pretty Periwinkle, lovable, at my happy doorstep,
full of purple flowers, winks at me every time I pass her;
she has something to tell me in private, it's evident,
she whispered, I tried within limits, but couldn't afford to concede.

Meeting up with the dragon
was a page
out of an intergalactic adventure;
shaking hands with
doppelganger, it was.
He insisted that he is
still a mythical animal
just don't exist in real,
he was so apologetic
to the point of being mawkish,
"Don't want to mislead any one
to somewhere, let's be scientific
to think, you took such pains
to make this meeting happen,
which is not the case in real,
                                    do you see me well?
He was  in panic, it seemed,
took him in confidence and
made him stay put.
"What's real is a long debate
don't think I am real,
material world could
easily proved an illusion
matter in to energy and reverse
is the story we see here
quantum mechanics will
end all your qualms
everything is in a state of flux
even the scientists are,
sometimes they see black holes
and suddenly they think otherwise,
so the universe is not even
a handful of dust, it's energy
playing fancy dress..."
The dragon looked crust fallen,
"you should have met a dinosaur instead
at least they EXISTED,and  Phew, what a variety
much more than a myth, which I am"
"Don't be apologetic, grand father's gift
grandma must have used her fun of imagination
to beget you and raise to such level of popularity
dragon or meerkat, all are fun,  like human,
when none exists, but happily present
in mind and on these  vast spaces our eyes see,
waiting to transform in to quanta of energy
when time summons, and God play dice.

Look behind, a shadow follows, morning till night,
at sun down, it transforms and waits, no curtains needed,
look around at night, see that mysterious bushfire,
some happened beyond time, heaven is your imagination speaking,

I stand on a flow that never stops and put all my hopes in love,
there is nothing that doesn't change, I stand where
many others before me stood, I forget that, but events repeat,
I stand naked on a rock with prehistoric markings,

my shrink will associate it with my desire to go back,
my loved ones whisper in to my ear, "Hallucinations all,
will be alright after a deep sleep, you're tired, mind a dark forest"
why overburden oneself with memories beyond time?
Reasons are fading darkness, when looking beyond the mind,
all you now pass through is a dream, seen in sleep, one sleep to the next,
*How many galaxies are to be hopped in this intergalactic travel?

An ecstatic poet, conjured up a full moon night so special.
Pairs of lovers got drunk with moon's white wine, reveled,
danced all night along the sea washed sands in ebullient spirit
till they were completely exhausted,  slept there on the sand bed.
When dawn tiptoed, they transformed to lovebirds, away they flew,
did they want to get back to human lives; no one knows, even if they did-
wasn't possible, the poet that created them, in drunken stupor, had
already forgot the whole episode and was in a hurry for new conceptions.

Lilac emits her scent,
Orchid’s winks bring elation;
Love speaks through us all!

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.

Sliminess of the mermaid, makes me come alive, strange?
don't blame me for this, that you would think an aberration,
I've long forgotten the human logic, from the moment I realized,
fate has joined me with her, the mermaid, a  longing unfulfilled for long,

This sensual yearning sans prospect of consummation, baffles others
but not me, life has many dark alleyways that go nowhere. 
Aren't we illusions ourselves?  Viewing sun's intense ways and moon's
hesitant tranquilizing gaze, through water's blue buffer is narcotic.
From under water only a  cool simmer , different experiences,
fish fin caresses, guilty pleasures of carousals with masked shark beauties,
underwater world has no pains, ever heard about
stilling pain by swimming long distant nights?
*Or is it because, I don't see my own teardrops shed underwater?

Your kiss effected an  explosion,
          catapulting bats hanging from the tree of my memories,
warm full lips, exuded the flavor of banana flowers,
                     in time of  ******* out nectar, from it
I imbibed the heady feeling,
                it garrulously spoke about my idyllic childhood in  the village
and on your inner environment too,
                    that prompted your kiss, so fervid, full of longing.

Her serene face, lovely sleepy moon,
framed by long tresses of dark curly clouds
on which he traces pelagic  memories
remains focused on his, for a while,
then,
her eyes, lovely restless beetles, sweetly
buzz around his eager lips, swollen with desire.

Closer she comes, he loves that coquettish look
on her face, how cheeky, the moves she make
as if she is game for the tryst, right now
whatever it takes from her part. it's clear.
How love makes a simple maiden, daring!

Dark beetles bring him memories of pollen,
mingled scents that cover her body head to toe,
now her lips are on his, exploring gently its contours
when teeth and swirling tongue too join in,
the cravings of unbridled horses of amour
they both come to be aware, when eyes involuntarily close.

When the red eyed embers of love turn to flames,
love boils in their cauldron, they rediscover passion,
as if they are green horns, once again in the enchanted woods
in this land of cupid, where the love rules are hurriedly rewritten.

hill  
                                               ant hill
                                          an ant hill
                                      a perfect ant hill
                                 a perfect ant hill it was
                               a perfect anthill erected
                        a perfect ant hill erected at will
           by ants and ants and army of disciplined ants.
     ants of many kinds, sizes and colors erected an ant hill
the design was grand, nice to look at like a cathedral,functional.
we love the ants for being so versatile,co-operative and creative
Do ants possess minds, ability to think,organize, put decisions in to actions?Or do they just have an instinct,prompted by nature, how do they receive it?Even if we are yet to find out such secrets,many of us are skeptics."All this is like the crawling leaches, inscribing  letters on smooth surfaces, inadvertently" they vehemently argue.And there remains the million dollar question,seeking answer:even tiny ants,could make millions of their ilk do amazing things, why oh! why, the most intelligent of living things, at least replicate the feats the community of ants, at a scale, proportionate ?If these disciplined insects, in spite of their small brains could be a great example, why can't human's be like them, behave more responsibly , take charge of their own destiny, construct, not destroy. Every ant hill in silence, asks us many questions,  we walk past pretending that we heard nothing, that could disturb our peace.

An army of seagulls, like Amazons
guardedIng  the gate to the harbor.
stopped him and before letting pass,
asked too many probing rude questions
in an impoverished language
dominated by caws and coos
and many other strange sounds.
No human ear can quite easily catch
"a fantastically foolish lingo",
his human mind sitting on
its high perch judged,
"If ever I have to learn this
how would I manage ?"was the anxiety
that made him judge, it seems.

Life in this twilight world of ours
hides full of surprises,on every turn.
He wouldn't be able to compare
one sunrise or sunset with any other
decide which one was better,
by any standard,
Uniqueness remains the greatest problem sans a solution here,
then, how could one surmise humans are superior to animals?

A cute seagull, a girl for sure, had shown a keen interest in him,
(her eyes were beautiful and she smelled really nice
hence the guess, that was corroborated later)
she tried to sit on his left shoulder as he walked forward
and tried to make friends with him, before any other could attempt!
She was eager to fix up a date with him, that evening itself!

"Do you think I am bit fast, abrupt?" she cooed
"Still a ****** at this age, don't you think
it's high time to worry about it, already?"

No expertise he has  to calculate
a seagull's age, *** appeal and what the plumage suggests,
a stern looking seagull, obviously with some leadership role
stylishly lands in front of him, in a bid to impress,  tries to enquire
about some membership card, that seems to be essential
bit exhausted, a humid day it was, he was amused
why should one be worried about the union interests of
the privileged seagulls in the harbor area, "Am I too one?"

That's when he had a suspicion crept in his  mind
is the harbor gate crossing really means that he too is a seagull?

But yesterday was so wildly human, with it's follies all fallen in place
a rumbustious night he spent with his rowdy girlfriend
who insisted that her left breast loves him more than the other
wanted to test her theory then and there, and started to complain
gravity has started to work wrongly on her endowments
"Act fast": she would urge, fully drunk, she was cawing like a bird.

"Aren't these enough evidence to prove, I am not a seagull. Mr.Judge?"
his quivering words, dissolve in the cacophony of disapproving seaguells.

No canine companion  has ever questioned me,
cheeky mongrel, you cross the line too often,
don't forget this; an animal  is still alive within me,
though an animal rights activist I remain officially.

Her spider eyelashes intensely exude,
an irresistible charm though sinister-
when they flutter, desire in waves spread,
it's gleam, he the hypnotised moth seeks,
dashing straight in to her invisible web of deceit,
seeking an instant nirvana, only to dissolve  in darkness.

Somewhere in the lake
of deep sleep
is an island, dark and mysterious,
entangled mangroves here,  resist movements
where I snake in like a thief
excitedly breaking in to own house,
pretending to be an alien
and find
a body double living there
acting out one's secret-
fantasies and voluptuous desires.
I won't dare to speak aloud here,
where, the overpowering smell of
too ripe fruits of indecent passions waft.
The dark chamber,
the smoke filled ***** den of my mind,
is to  take secret refuge and be one
with a dream that flies me
to the border lands of psyche.

Plan A: there is none as such;
though unflinching ego makes
complex calculations, concludes,
reassures it is best laid for sure.

Plan B, hence has no actual relevance
A mountain river, life is, it rushes
the way the cryptic GPS message directs.
If you ask how it works, try to understand
the intricate organic correlations, involving factors
that  even a super computer can't process
but your mind would, somehow easily tell you
in a clear voice, if only you are ready to  listen.

Every best laid plan is merely a wish
the more profound is spoken as a prayer
words addressed to the voice inside, that listens and acts
fulfillment then, is an emotional construct
you need the scent of that flower to inspire life.

Who says the cosmic plan is mysterious?
One who walks the karma path right, even when eyes closed
knows how to reach where one is headed to.
The truth this: one leads oneself, so keep the inner eyes open.

Subtle wishes that bring smile on the face of thy neighbor
are much more meaningful than selfish desires

A coconut grove
With one tall wind turbine.
The wind blows amused!

A fruit, tasting truly different, it was what I needed,
because in every bite, it satiated my desire, inexpressible
I climbed to the top branch of the fruit tree and
plucked the most sun drenched juicy one gleaming.

But it didn't put out the fire raging in my heart, though
the sweet fruit made me withdraw and be quiet
for a short while and then I went in search of another
when it dawned on me that it's a rare root, with
magical effects, that the nomads collect from hidden woods,
and it is the stuff used at the  dead of night for alchemy
the chemical work that makes even the cheapest metal gold!

I went seeking a girl,who was described in revelations--
her bewitching beauty, haunting eyes and the songs she sung
promised many things to my heart and I couldn't sleep
after the time I met  fleetingly, that seductive dame.
She was from a world different, her heart was unlike
any one else's I have known, yet I told her I still do search,
as it was a puzzle still, why beauty beacons me !

The black forest winds and waters, the flowers everywhere,
I needed to be alone with myself, when my heart stirred,
heard a little bird chirping that said" You make me calm,
where did you find the poem you just read aloud?"
Suddenly I have woken up from the dream I had fallen into,
eyes lit with beauty, munching a fruit, my favorite
book of poetry in hand,I went to my love, to read it aloud
to her and mull the beauty together, get rejuvenated.

1
The jack tree, framing the museum gate
was an eyeful, with fruits from top branch to roots,
reminding  a lush woman, pregnant and languid,
expectant, beaming a smile, what else could be
a better fertility symbol, gladdening one's heart!
2
He sees her, Lila,waiting under the jack tree
Lila, a fixture, highlighting jack tree's abundant fertility,
on a juncture of present and past, symbolizing
what is left inside the walls of the museum
only the bits we came to know sporadically,
stashed away for curious eyes, a puzzle for us always.
Everything flows in to one, yet remains in fragments!
3
He knows Lila will turn the corner,
now or later and go in to the museum,
standing in a lovely garden
full of past waiting for her
he guesses someone else too, accompanies her,
A lover? Perhaps not, his heart consoles,
only a dim figure, he could see
in his repeated dreams of her.
4
He ingeniously attempts, different ways to see her,
in points of time and different points of view.
Lila, he feels is a girl, he may fall in love with,
but the fact is that she is in mystery's wrap,
the play of Maya -illusion- in matter
that realization wakes him up to awareness,
of himself, many things that count.
On the lonely roads of university campus,
she walks looking in to a past,
she wants to leave behind or retrieve?
Following her far behind, from a clearing
in the forest of a time past, he thinks about,
the time they were together,
now, she becomes a symbol,
to explore the secrets of the past, himself, life.
5
A name with dimensions, Lila is,
the Sanskrit word for play, the cosmos is engaged in,
the dance he would do life long,
but there would be walls erected, like the time they were together.
He thinks being together has significance, if only you count so,
Lila is in the scheme of things that moves universe too,
he learns to detach Lila from her physical form.
6
Lila in the universe is the dancing atoms,
the stars dying and being born in other universes.
While reciting poetry on stars and* 'multiverse'  
he feels the flow of life. Lila is the flow of energy unlimited,
Lila, takes over body, mind and consciousness.
7
Lila smiles at him as he walks to her,says she:
"Waiting for you here, took me to the unknown, waiting for ages,
I am curious, is it you looking at me or a past fragmented?
I feel your eyes playing with my body mind and beyond"
She didn't say she is imagining things. Now, all that matters is this.
They gravitate towards each other.He is pleased at the light emitted
They both are fascinated by the jack tree full of fruits,
life forms of nature and nebulous energies that navigate,
going back and forth has become a habit for all of us.

A big bang in every nucleus, inviting big crunch, that creeps in,
Lila and he walked in, the doorman in the museum smiled

1.
Look! two butterflies entangled
in the thick of love, try extricating,flapping wings
girl, forget you're a doctor,let love resolve it.
2.
A strawberry touches her lips,
astonished I stop eating my peach;
where does the fruit end, her lips begin?
3.
Your dad is conservative,
mother is moderately appreciative,
every move of amour, has to be  politically sensitive.
4.
On this bikini your body prattles,
a language unintelligible through, I am all ears,
darling, make your body speak, the lingo it truly appreciates.
5.
Water nymph, your bodyhugging dress
simultaneously does myriad things,
talks erotica, tries seduction,makes me a fool fumbling for words.

A rain cloud, I was
in one of my incarnations,
heavy and pregnant with water,
it was proud,
billowing, adorned with
lightening's golden thread,
it poured in torrents,
with roars of thunder,
then sped through the fields,
that became fertile,
farmers with their ploughs
and bullocks came out,
the fields were bright green
with dancing rice saplings

Some other time
I was an ecstatic  bulbul,
mango blooms told me amorous tales,
I voiced each in  snorous ghazals,
The rice fields were ripe,
musky scent was ******,
Women came in waves
and harvested the rice,
their songs were on romance,
ardent love and parting
hearing the bulbul
they perfected their singing.

A long time ago
I was a goat's kid,
I sprang around and danced
in the harvested field,
the cloud wanted to pet me
but she was so far,
bulbl sung a special tune
for me for a while
Looking at the green grass
on the other side of the fence
I would think wistfully,
what life would bring.

1.
Quite far you are,know not where, time and space remain fused,
But, our love is still a wild flower, that takes new avatars
Fully bloomed, defies sun and rain,other vagaries of seasons,
This love is beyond the thrills of flesh, not even nocturnal togetherness.
To plant a kiss of love on your lips,the wind will be my messenger,
With a gentle caresses  you will be reminded how my lips felt on yours,
In reciprocation, with your scent wind would envelop me on return.
2.
Our love has faced many harsh climes, still we persisted,
Fallen down and walked again limping, long distances,
Our love has martyr's blood  running through veins,still brave, sings
The song we loved, not together, a new light our love had found.
Beyond the point of togetherness,love is indestructible, defying logic.
3.
My flesh and blood would wither away,yours too have the same fate,
Your beating heart and mine,one day will embrace stillness.
Love has to live beyond the tunes of heart beats and our lives.

In wind and water, earth and fire, all over the vastness of space,
Millions would come together,in life, in death, sing love's paeans

Rain’s seige  continues,
Hegemony of waters;
Swirling army’s rush!

In the day spa pool
                     a ******* girl,
              floats half submerged;
two placid white lotus buds,
identical twins,
     cheerily face upwards,
   gleaming, wet.

The gushing river through his interior landscape, runs very deep,
this surging Ganga, glaciers feed, is one of Himalayan profligacy.
Wouldn't stop, or deter a bit,on any eventuality; a mighty force it is.
his beloved sea, was moved by this, swelled up to meet midway, merge.

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.

On a lonely night
when my moon
refused to show her face,
even after pleading
till my heart broke,
in to pieces of gold
and diamonds,
dedicated to her
all covered with love
dripping like drops of blood,
darkness forced me
to confess the love crimes
I never did commit
I thought it will set everything right
but in vein....

Wolves howled with
a mad glee to make me
nervous thinking that
you'll be frightened,
the owl, in silence
pretended to be all knowing
but not a wee bit
about the gravity of our love
registered in his mind,
hooted again and again
"She doesn't love you"
in a  voice reeking vengeance.

My love, I never thought
of a cup hemlock, a bodkin
or a flight to darkness
from the hill, we used to sit
heart beating against heart
when
          you
                  gave
                             me
the portion of your love
for the first time from your
trembling lips....................
I am enscorned in you
you are in my veins
immortal I am
I'll meet you in your abode,
even if you fail to keep your word
and don't turn up in our rendezvous.

the jasmine bush, whose
fragrant buds just bloomed
took me in her ***** and
wrapped me with her scent
of love, what a solace!

"Your love is immortal
never grieve, your true love,
never would perish, it would
stand the tests, however tough
she is always yours, you are hers
in this life and lives to come"

I slept like kid under the jasmine bush
like a kid in his mother's bed
she covered me with her tears
of falling flowers, till dawn appeared,
at last I saw my beloved in my dreams.

She goes on sniffing him like a hunter's dog, persistent,
He eats her hurriedly as if she is a honey filled cake,
Chance  ****** encounter, unbridled wild desires run amok.
They are fully taken over by the agile demons of ***** amour.
Completely  forget shame, even  the thought of sin, altogether.
Make the bed a ground where they play with such vehemence!

She is a rare tree, yielding to caressing touch, flowering all over.
The goose bumps refusing to disappear,tell the whole untold story.
She makes noises of approval, while tracking the scent downwards
When she  finds the bone at last, she doesn't know what she does!

Every single
mistake of mine,
even the recurring ones,
patiently you edit within
and read as if it's fine,
nothing has ever gone wrong.

see!
what your love
incomparable
has to me done,
my poor, darling!

in my writing, they see
the grammar fully muddled,
so many words I spell wrong.

I see this, only when
others, bitterly, loudly complain
gentle soul, your'e forgiving,
but the world isn't,vengeful it seems,
don't you see the predators, prowling?

Why don't you consider the truth,
I am imperfect, want to be corrected
why not help me change,
tell me where I go wrong, urge
I'll certainly adore you more for that.

Cover of morning mist, treacheous
bring them face to face,
in the depth, green darkness of a forest.
A porcupine and a pangolin,
armed to the teeth,
ready to start a war at short notice,
both are not pleased to the least,
this encounter shouldn't have happened,
that thought crosses the minds of both,
the mist is the culprit,
but how do they know that?

If porcupine is equipped with missiles and lances,
pangolin is  protected with armour plates,
both come to understand, in a second,
they stare, with no emotions in display
sniffing the air for even the faintest of signals,
they stand still, rock like, take stock.

A spell of forest seize them, tell a few things
in soft whisper, that humans fails to listen always.
Nature tell them in quick time,
the secret equation of them, in this terrain-
in smells, sounds and a hundred myriad things.

Each one reads the other's face, watch expressions,
then, in a moment the prompt of the nature is clear
Voice of the forest speaks
"Don't waste the spikes, you need them later,
Fighting with a pangolin is a wild goose chase"
"Why fight porcupine, the ant kingdom awaits"
Porcupine and pangolin, listening to the voice of wisdom,
move away quick, as if hit by a lightening
the cover of the mist lends a clever helping hand.

My pet cat licks my face repeatedly; it feels a bit strange
to jut my jaw forward for a feline to lick and make my face wet.
but as I sit my eyes shut, it feels unreasonably nice, then, it dawns:
she is clicking her LIKES on my real Facebook page
                                                                           the way she knows best.
Eureka! this is my tender Archimedes moment !
the naked truth, reveals itself before me like Venus
why the crazy craving, without rhyme or reason
for LIKES in Facebook and cyberspace;
                                                                          now, I understand so well.

1
   **My dad suddenly walks in,
  as if nothing has happened,
   and he hasn't gone anywhere, leaving
six of us behind, notwithstanding-
all these years of absence and
pain unimaginable that changed us all
to see life in a new light that gets dim
without the lamp he held in front of us.
       A shadow transparent gets in to the room,
he stands near mom sitting inside her cocoon,
lost in an ancient evening, pensive, forlorn
as if she feels an absence, tangible right there.
Dad's absence stands silent, perhaps
curiously looking at her with loving eyes
that's how he was, after a period of absence.
The pantomime, tears my sense of reality
                   in to shreds, I sit upright,
with my hands pressed against my palpitating heart.
Do I see it really or hallucinate him looking,
wistfully at the coconut groves dancing
beyond the extending rice paddy billowing,
in front of our farm yard, sleepy these days,
for a moment I think time has
taken liberty to flow back
and everything is right there
where we'd love it to be.
             2
The absence was a hollow,
in the middle of everything,
breaking the mirror of reality
in to smithereens, the dark space,
in between sprang-
opening its mouth to swallow,
wherever one turned,
it stood in front defiantly,
posing a challenge at times,
it came behind hollering noiselessly,
bringing unbearable memories,
from moments hard to forget
spent in his company,
in my palmy days of yore.
                    3
Absence was fire within,
that needs no fuel to burn,
flood waters without a source,
that can wash away,
till one becomes nothing;
then little by little,
one comes in to terms with the absence
and at last it too is laid to rest,
and that eats a part of the soul,
causing bleeding in slushy green,
transparent white and blobs of sad black.

Rumbunctious
waves
                 rolling
one over the other
on the white sand bed,
reach for new heights
like insatiable lovers;
from her desolated corner
on the beach front,
a lone woman
watches their fervor
with an undiminishing
fire of desire, in her eyes
but none to stoke or share.

Step by step a kite ascends to the sky
regains  memory of transcendence
of once being the echo of a cloud
sailing speedily westwards.
the kite remembers another life
and strays far beyond it's distance permitted,
when the string rudely pulls it back,controls,
the young cloud, narcissistic
still keeps it's love for the echo, in swirling
wisps of vapor as gently caressing wet touch

The lone woman who suppresses deep inside her chest,
the tumultuous waves of love and passion,
imbuing the emotion sunset spews, suddenly breaks down
the startled sea breeze is the only witness to her outburst.

the sky slipping fast in to the gloom of darkness
stands frozen, silent, as if melting in the pain love causes,
when one bids final good bye to the beloved, vowed never to part.

The panther's blazing eyes
stares at him first , scrutinizing,
her rough tongue likes him clean
when amorous longings subdue.

Dear one,
as desired,
meticulously
corrected
the mistakes
you made,
one by one.
In the process
added my own,
do I need to tell?
I take refuge
in the thought
that it was expected
when you chose
me for this job.
All I can say is this:
we complement
each other;
but perfection
is the mirage
we relentlessly
search in this desert.

You are a clear mirror that perfectly reflects.
Fallen and wounded, I cut a sorry figure.
What wonder spell of yours makes it possible,
To reflect me like this; a victor, full of verve and fire!