Under the thick dreadlocks of tangled forest trees,
gathering wind swirls with a desire uncontrollable
whispers  wildly wicked things, intensely  stimulating,
in to his ears, when she stood leaning over him, like a vine.

He had an impulse wrong to control this sudden whim,
not fully understanding where from the mind of the forest
it comes, though this yearning from the deep, is elysian,
he doubts, will this coiling up serpentine lust stifle love?

From head to toe, she was trembling like a leaf in wind,
and he thinks what's for her to fear, at this moment,
when he looks in to her burning dark eyes, a tremor
wakes up the dumb lover, he sees the reason of her sighs,
and involuntary rocking and grinding of *****, in rhythm.
They tumble on the grass, at that instant, rolling on he finds
himself riding a wave, that behaves as if it will decide the rest.

Dusk is busy with her daily bit of frenzied painting,
in the western horizon messed up by dark, fat, nimbus
with an intense wish to make it look strikingly different,
from that was in display yesterday and the day before.
The colors appear in fluorescent flashes and in the next
instance changed in to mixes of more  ruddier hues
suggesting a separation, an invasion of black  night long.

The beating blue waves of sea are all red with empathy
and the sun is pleased to come down for an ablution
in a sudden change of mind, swims to self immolation.

a deep blue mountain.
in swirling dark night dissolves,
a lone silver star!

extravagant dusk,
spreads gold dust over beach sands;
waves clamor for share!

The more her canine teeth,
dip deeper, on his shoulder,
on crossing the threshold of pleasure,
the more he gets elated;
then, a doubt raises its head
and whispers,*"just being  plain dutiful,
or was it, like she felt, really beautiful?"

white and black eagles,
one chasing the other;
til the end of the world!

Above the waves, fish-eagles circle,
eyes scan the moving water plane,
lashing sea waves, blanket of cover,
shoals of fish, swim below in mirth.
Within fraction of a second,
a sea change, secret window opens
two eagle eyes sense a change in dynamics,
swoops down,
a lightening strike,
one fish that made a wrong move,
rides between the claws to its grave.

1
In petrified personal history
far back in a page, this image-
a boy, eyes shut
lays supine embraced by
mother earth.A wakeful dream.
His bare body, smells
sweat, hay, mud, pollen
and grasshopper songs,
resonating in his ears still,
the sacred morning mantras;
his Hindu mother's incessant chants-
to appease mother earth.
* Shanthi..Shanthi..Shanthi
Peace descends on magical wings.

2
He feels time standing still
like trees frozen on a windless morn,
Earth was the mother, the presence,
that poured in to consciousness
music without sound,
an warm embrace without touch,
that painted the inner world with
her myriad colors.

3
Earth where secrets spurt, spread and die down as ashes,
my windy bed, gentle balm, end of every hunger,
I've dug deep in to yielding earth,
on those days of rustic childhood,
in a frenzied exploratory spirit,
prompted by a deep primordial urge,
that kept churning my dark inner caves,
with unknown currents, perhaps a wish
to go back as far  as possible,
to the past and find the nest where memories slept,
where my history lay buried in layers,
unhatched eggs of dinosaur past,
waiting to be discovered,
by the probing hands of present and future.
Perhaps a desire to reconnect with past,
now crusted secrets of an uncertain time,
that would talk to me in cryptic codes
of life, death and transcidence
and in a flash reveal what it all means
to an intergalactic traveler on eternity's wings.

4
My eager body gets smeared with soft earth,
covered at places with sticky mud that exudes
a sensuous scent,
                           feel of a woman, that takes one
to the unreal plane of a savage urge,
that arises from depth, a yearning to melt in to her,
to give birth to a future that would bring back
in a new form, the histories of yore,
on   the starting point once again.

5
Earth, is the sensuous woman, I relentlessly seek,
the destination of my destiny in the end,
the womb, where seeds of my dreams take root,
when I come back to her, to create me all over again,
with her elements, minerals and salts.
                            

Squirms of red earthworms,
Wriggle out of hot mud, die;
Flood’s queer side effect !

Spotted you in clouds,
asked wind my friend to act;
you embrace as rain !

Fear of
                  f l y i n g ?
        go to    
                                   s w i m m i n g.

Eating mushrooms, to her is yet another art
she loves to perfect, in my ear she whispers
with such visible pleasure,"I want to be a connoisseur in this"
Her studio smelled herbs and wild flowers of inner forest,
brought me back to the cardamom and cinnamon garden
I played in my days of boyhood; spices build a  bridge for us.

More of a herbalist than a paint smelling artist, she seems,
mounted on the wall on irregular fashion were the mushrooms
she painted with a passion rare, and a precision mirroring life;
the paintings  brought her past in to the studio, only trained eyes
would discern the cryptic symbolism, a consummate artist she certainly is!

 The woman who smoked cigars in succession and untiringly danced,
she said was her favorite, along the lake front we took a long walk
comparing notes;  there were parallels that met, we found soon enough.
"You too knew her so well, I am aware", she said. A room filled with smoke
where we dance, make love, grow tired, fall down and sleep, wasn't it our life?
No one can miss the signature smell of her dense cigar smoke on my dress!"

I loved the smell of cloves she exhaled while eating mushrooms.
though detachment she pretended, eating mushrooms never was that!
I kept looking down at her eyes, a sailor about to sight the land,
any panting moment that rushes with a monsoon song for me and her.

Perfectly
               curvaceous,
every bit
                    luscious,
dripping
                     Juice,
for us,
                     on the precipice
mutually
                        salacious,

She ate first,

Then I
           joined in
            relishing
                        every
          ­                        b.i..t

How much i love it,

she knows well,

eyes curiously down-

at me eating squid;

the eight armed cephalopod,

soft and dainty to eat,

in more ways than one,

now spread eagled in my front,

"I could eat you too

if you wish" I banter,

she looks at me mischievously as if

it's more than a joke,

and shakes head.

"Would I be as dainty

as such a fish?" she asks,

as if she is serious to get an answer,

flashing those expressive eyelashes,

clearly in a way I can see what it means!

"Yes, bilateral symmetry I have,

but not eight arms, is it okey?"

She knows all about my tastes,

(who would, if she doesn't?)

squids, octopus and the like

and clams...ooh, i love them, so much

bit sticky stuff, yes I like to mess up a bit,

that way, isn't it exciting?

I relish, squid and cuttle fish,

till I am fully satisfied.

Was she a fish in my waters?

To tell you the secret: she wasn't.

she was an octopus!

wily? yes, but lovable.

who strung me with,

her soft, supple tentacles!

Imposing her sweet wishes

on my senses,

eventually her wishes

become my commands,

to the end,

till she asks,

no more.
     )O(

In a time machine, going back to past,
this  disturbing thought entraps me:
if someone wants to eat me
who should it be?
rather a mystical woman, mature
than a skeptical nymph,
an optical illusionist
who with her eyes,
showed few tricks, to me lately-
perfectly fits the bill.

Sparrows in brisk flight,
divide, avoid the tower
their reunion seamless!

Her elegance, if as she pretends
is such an exquisite, priceless wine,
I'd just admire the bottle from afar, that's fine.
Relishing with out tasting it, is an
undiminishing  pleasure, beyond expression
she'd understand it in this instance

If desire eluding fulfillment, is pain
it's the ***** for me now, I 'd enjoy my trip,
even if my stubborn stance is in vain,
I'd rather die wanting, won't toe her line.
If with such allure, someone tempts too much
wants to prove a point after all this I've done to woo her,
I am not the one to submit, say uncle.
Let me make sure I'd rob the very thought
from her and keep it in a dark cave, as a treasure
for some future hunter  in search of ego's glitter
of a woman, that was robbed once and for all.

comedienne's eyes
swiftly seek my funny bone,
laughter explosion!

A glass of water,
Contemplates on cosmos;
Unawares, thirst spreads.

I  feel  passion transgressing all limits when she kisses,
know what does she expect, and when I return,
I owe much more to her, to be in the same  league as her,
every transaction leads to further complicated
entries in the account book; can one be just natural
like waves and shore, or be neutral, tranquil, expect
nothing, to make matters, sweet and simple?
But life becomes an exhibition match of warring teams
even lovers become opponents who play devious games
of make believe, falling slowly in to the trap of follies self created

With an elating nonchalance,
the park conceals love in excess,
*air is dense with wistful sighs,
and  exquisite ****** excitement.

Two fish shaped wet eyes, intently gaze,
while expressing pain, disarmingly implies
a sweetness, specially meant only for him
that too, apt  in that particular context,
when his antennae all are up, receptive.

He wants to kiss, those eyes,
as his eyes catch that special moment, poignant,
wants to taste it and make the sweetness all  his.
That sweetness, a bait, but he isn't aware,
with a deft dab of emotion,makes him melt,
paints her vulnerable, yes, a damsel in distress,
prods him to be chivalrous, the next moment.
How the salty pearls rolling down her cheeks
play naughty games with unsuspecting tender heart,
concealing  the puppet play in which men and women excel.

Her intense presence
does something tender,
to his heart;
that eludes words.

               When she speaks,
               in a soft soothing tone,
               the pain she suffers,
                submerges, goes missing.
                How much she endures,
                how long,
               he can't fathom.
A silent grief
binds them together;
he is the mirror
that faithfully reflects.
He feels now
the gentle spread of moisture
enveloping them both;
dried up skin
on his face comes to life again.
Lips, curled up dry leaves,
are pumped up with chlorophyll,
turn towards her, the sun.
                                     He dissolves,
                                     in the thought
                                     of her pain,
                                     becomes her  tear drops,
                                     roll down and fall
                                     one
                                     by
                                     one.

Vanity she carried with such oomph and style
unlike in other cases, I didn't resent, that feeling
viewing her purely as a piece of art, made a difference,
vanity seemed not merely pardonable, but just right.

1.She seized me with one glad eye,
Some cryptic intent lurking behind.
The other eye gestures to me,
To move closer, I couldn't see why.

2.But her overture my system accepted,
Though not fully understood by me.
I couldn't even process the proposal,
But the verdict was out without the judge.
"My system is compromised, no doubt,
She has managed to hack it, I did suspect.
My legs moving towards her in quick time,
Is clearly the evidence for the breach.
Her kohl lined eyes, too played some trick"
On mind's screen, thoughts flashed.

3.She met me half way through,before
It became too evident, the undercurrents
That control the whole episode,unferled.
The smile she flashed was a command,
Didn't I hear a click, somewhere deep inside?

4.Her Kohl lined dark eyes
Concealed a suggestion of magic.
Dramatically she said what sounded,
Like a convoluted password,
My transformation was completed.
As a green parrot, so exotic!

5.Did I ever in my life
Had any hunch, that indeed I was
A parrot in disguise, and my sole aim
Was to meet her, the siren with distinction,
I loved the stupor slowly taking over.
To me it was what was badly needed.
After such magical change to an avian!
That too  without even the wave of wand.

6.Gently she lifted me and put,
At a spot on her left shoulder.
Then, as if by some prompt,
I started telling her, things he liked to hear.
This I guess as parrots we learn from nature.
A line of eager admirers she walked past,
They seemed pleased hugely, no doubt,
Because, she is with some one,
She seemed specially care.

7.At home, the enchantress was
In her elements, on a cage hung high,
On a perch, I sat gazing at her.
The prince in daring disguise,
In a bid to meet the enchantress in person,
And lose myself in her radiance.
Her face beams a smile that sugests,
All of this was a trick , she had perfected
In keeping with nature's wish.

Your lovely eyes,
two dark bamboo beetles
bristle with fervor
ready to battle
with mine, seeking truce;
your belligerence,
has a stirring effect.
I am aroused
beyond limits.
    Now is the time to act,
make wild love,
    ending the lovers' tiff.
    I sign the treaty of withdrawal
    with a passion filled kiss,
   summoning all the force
   in your command, you seal it,
   with an incomparable another.

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.

Wild profusion of mad red 'flame of the forest' flowers,
a roaring fire they create, which the sun stokes further
a white stork, tired after a lonely flight, crossing  long distances
dive in to that pyre; unawares or fulfilling a suicidal desire?

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.

Every time
I start anew,
or decide
to leave,
without fail I arrive
at a new beginning.
                           Every start
                           is an end-
                           of something.
                          Each arrival,
                          culminates in a departure,
                                                 fallen in to  the cycle of
                                                 'samsara'
                                                 vagrant mind, plays
                                                creates illusions;
                                                ends and beginnings.
When the karma wheel completes its circles,
without thinking, consciousness merges with 
 the ocean of                                                       eternal being
arrivals and departures mean nothing,
If  
consciousness  is still and unmoving,  in the point between
birth                                       and                                       death.

At a table set for two,
        in a quiet corner,
they sit across;
       an emotional sun
sets acrimoniously
       behind them.
She goes on munching
     something in silence,
never once lifting her face,
    to make the picture perfect.

He sits there, like dumbstruck
    not a single moment
taking eyes off her pretty face,
    as if, she'd vanish if he does.

Entwined in a
      mutually absorbing deliquescence?
Or each one beyond
     the reach of other's mind?

Over a cup of coffee
    going  too cold, to drink now
an intrusive character
     idling on the table next
staring  alternatively at both
        inanely wonder:
"The beginning or the end?"

rainy day sunset
strokes of shadows on light  mix.
a portrait of life?

Opened
the door
            to infinity,
eternity
 came in
            to
      invite.

ordering her food,
she broods over empty plate;
potent nothingness!

sound of horn heralds-
bedecked bull ambles along,
a world gone, returns!

She is a character perfect
for my work of science fiction,
chosen after much research
on unreliability of reality
as one knows does exist,
it's even more true of her.
In a hurry I concluded,
"What a  luck, I chose to write her
as the character of possibility!
                              then, how quickly
                              the class I expected of her
                              went totally to seed.
                              are we opposites?
Or, is this reality not shared by both of us?
what can one say about a situation when,
my own creation fights against my writ,
No, I am not in the same league as Luigi Pirandello
this is the result when commonsense is delineated
by a hallucinating mind, caught in love net.Zilch.