My demure doe,
                                                 -disguised,

                                                gunp­owder keg,
effect of your kiss: more is less;
                                                  -not satisfied,
let us roll
on the  bed,

two primitives,
in need to meld

and get over the desire, primordial,

at the earliest,

your fuse, in this regard
is as short as mine,

*let's ask,
each other
for more:
explode.

His wisdom tooth started to rot,
he didn't listen to its complaints at first,
dismissed the implications,
without much thought,
wasn't it denial?

When removal was inevitable,
the matter came out in a facebook post,
as if it was yet another case for
immediate social action.
Getting a line written in today's wall
wasn't bad, he felt a secret elation.
Why debate  good and  bad, if  there is a strong
chance to change perspectives after the  posting?
The rotten tooth thus asserted itself!

It felt good for the first time,
to know others focus on even your wisdom tooth,
soon, the feeling was replaced with,
regret, for feeling good, Ouch!

it didn't stop there, either,
a feeling of confusion fallowed,
a sense of ebullient nonsense prevailed,
what else could it be called?
How to escape to the normal?
the thought came after a while,
and yes, tell me the wise,what is a normal state?

He felt her
inner thunder,
waves of scarlet
reverberating
in his *****;
deep in the marrow
a pleasant tingling.
"Your sun spoke to me,
his insistence, very pleasant
reached me as waves"
later she coyly
whispered in his ears.

Let go all pretensions,
honestly compare notes
of hearts, the magic happens.
              They created their
big bang on a sprawling bed,
all are echoes, he, she and the rest.
Even the universe that pulsates
within and spreads outwards
as waves.

This effulgent, white  cactus flower,
a bright thought, a creative impetus
from an eternal source, ever present
in spite of the  callousness all round,
emerging in the whistling desert of mind
like it happens after a single day of rain
tells me how beautiful things would turn
when within a bright thought blooms
defeating all thorny fruitlessness of life.

Blithe golden cloud, that once tugged at my heart strings
enigmatic pubescent,warm master work of raising steam,
you did drift too low, to be real for my sun scorched world
but deliberately pretended cold,when I waved, repeatedly,
I ardently wooed, to the alarm of your admirers, a legion
how I longed for the secrets, you whispered,know you more
aren't you fire within, that burns heart,lightening concealed?
Formed in sensual, undulating softness, hiding, fiery desires?

I waited, for you to touch ground, as you promised,to explore
being naive, you inadvertently tangled with the tree branches!
Obstructive self seekers,who craftily trapped you in thickets
and little by little, in grey strands you vanished in thin air...
A lesson to all straying cloudlets,I had to be sadly a witness.

She eloped with my heart,
I am told to wait until dark.

A swarm of bees hum?
Thrilled earth receives cumulonimbus sting ;
Mind is on a swing!

On an opulent curved dome
Of a proud white mushroom
An enigmatic, clear, single drop
Well formed, eager, quietly sit.

Wonder what and what it is up to now-
A tear drop shed in pain by a lonely fairy,
Or a stray drop of untimely rain, futile,
A memory lapse,a cloud somehow had?

What if it's a disillusioned universe,
Willfully collapsed,due to it's own weight,
Reduced to a miniature and still in flux,
Wanting to see a new dream altogether!

Sitting like a king on his throne, it reflects,
The limitless sky on it's upturned single  eye!

Waiting perhaps for the rising purple morning sun
to give an offer, to evaporate and be back in the cycle.

The antique shop,
a cauldron where memories
from far and near boil and froth,
where chronological order
didn't matter, time stood still,
part real, as much magic,
different lives from distant lands and time
rolled in to one.
Here they met, by chance,a man
and a mysterious woman,with an eye for unusual,
among what was  on display were
things a conman would seek
and also favorite stuff fit for  kings,
artifacts and articles they must have used
or hankered after.

Past uses these museum pieces
as baits for us, secretly preparing us
to surrender before future,
unkind and rude in mind;
he changed roles as both con and king,
there was a constant yes,
she was the mate in each
he couldn't take  eyes  off her,
and she asked what he looks for,

"The famous ****** quilt,
that was to be mine twice before,
I missed making it mine,
narrowly every time"
He wondered how did he
make up that story so quick.
"I can take you to the quilt,
but it isn't here" she said
not a bit  hesitant
He was flabbergasted by
the turn of events,as if
a hidden scripted move shows the way
They left by her car,
she was eloquent about
the effects of the ****** quilt.

As they stood near the ****** quilt,
in this room he thought was part
of an antique shop, the place looked deserted,
and her eyes shone when she suggestively said
"Want to test the effect? Don't be disappointed"
It wasn't. How could one  imagine, that
the quilt can be so voluptuous.

That secret shook him out of his shell,
she had  nothing to do  with antique of any kind,
just another visitor like him, and the quilt
was an ingenious plot she hatched
in keeping with my sudden flourish,
the quilt, was a new addition in her bed
patch worked in silk, light weight,
it wasn't a blanket, but ****** in its very touch
it was them, the moment of adventure they found
had brought the rapture,who would regret?

A look deep in to her eyes and it subtly pushes in to a trance,
her lips in a smile curl,from where a primordial memory dances,
much deeper than visceral, in effect it's clearly transcendental
she becomes a pointer, to the quest entrenched within soul

I want to ask her this, how does she transfer her subtle essence
to me with such effortless ease, as if we were bound together,
with few words, looks and touches,like the dance of a painter's brush,
a way to connect so quick, or is it an existing channel that has opened?

An experience without parallel in life, so exhilarating to me
to discern, internalize and imbibe, a zen beyond human logic,
wasn't she a presence, in the deepest layers of my psyche?
an apparition that came to light, when the time was just ripe!

A musical treat,
One billion neurons  play ball;
Ecstasy defined!

The doctor, a  specialist, with formidable reputation
nationally, had a secret: a rotten apple for heart;
this apple poisoned him for ever,
but, neither he noticed,
nor there was even a whisper about this!

He could have undergone a CT scan properly!

A nurse, just a junior member in his team,
by virtue of her innate qualities, a healer nonpareil,
took the pain away, from each patient,
with her kind touch, and  soothing words.
She healed very well, their  hearts, already taken over by fear,
and yet again wounded by the brash doctor's words.
Patients counted her as a savior, much more than a doctor,
the doctor was paid well and kept happy to avoid troubles!

*not medicine, state of the art machines,
or expertise unmatched; the mind to heal counts,
the gentleness of being, of doctor or whoever,
works wonders, you'd see this all around.

an ant,
                       searches
a place
             it loves,
                           all over my
         body.

demons--
angels of
                  darkness
conjuring up
perfect darkness
every minute.

A night in miniature,
I carry in a space mysterious,
of this woebegone heart,
from where I access it at will
to dream about our days
spent together in bliss
and feel closer to you
till the moment I wake up dejected
and be doleful  the next moment,
as I'll never meet you again.

Her love, for long a thorn
now an ornament of pain
on her numb heart, pierced,
that has suffered in vein.

lovelorn and desolate,
she collects words in hope,
even from still night air,
but that work against often;
a vocabulary
of intense desire
she discerns at once,
from the scent
of jasmine
blooming at midnight
disturbing her peace
wave after wave.

Mate call of
a night bird
late for its date,
hurriedly searching
the rendezvous
and its sweetheart,
makes her sad.

Sky full of stars'winks
stringed together
as a song,
suggest daring things
she wouldn't think
attempting even much later.

She would send sighs
dry her tears rolling down,
and just suffer in silence,
till the sky open its eye,
when tired she will close her eyes.

we have never been together,
              never disclosed we  love each other;
then how do I miss you so much?
                   was it in another life, we were together?

See, wide open the gates are in welcome,
I am the city of tranquility
that appeared in your thoughts from nowhere,
you may choose to live for now,
       perhaps for ever or never.
having crossed many toll gates
in your long drive to reach here,
don't you wait, drive straight,
the capitol looms above bright,
occupy the citadel most secure
in which a few like you stayed for a while
till they figured out  what they seek,
when they resumed their journey
with heartful of joy

keep at bay the angst that chases you
from a wrong turn once you took,
experience the weather, peaceful atmosphere,
till it dawns to you, the magic of this ambience,
air, water and land unspoiled, like old times,
don't you miss the birds that
never forget to sing, be it
a harsh summer or a frozen winter.
they all make your soul
listen to the  beating heart, the city has
A free bird you are, be aware,
do whatever freedom demands,
if you choose to come back
this city sky is all yours.

Note this:
none found out yet,
but the cat suspects.

Indiscreet Parakeets

Lovesick parakeets,
Eager wicked fornicators,
climaxed with a shriek.

Bat Trick

This bat, wants to act,
Only in a position
Other species find
Hard to imitate.

The Serpent's Last Chance*

Hissed aloud, in vein, none seemed impressed.
Swished around, ****! it's polished marble floor.
Only makes miserable after all the false moves.
No escape route found after so much struggle.
Serpentine arrogance desperately seek a burrow,
Finding the lethal  poison of King cobra useless.
In a situation too slippery to bite or frighten
He could only coil in dejection, pretending dead.

Alone in this forest, away from all distractions
I've been trying to learn by heart the  verse, immortal
that speaks  in clear voice,on  every secret of the story we are,
But in each attempt, I found myself forgetting the  lines passed earlier,
when I reach the lake of total silence at the point of culmination.

"Where are you truth?where are you essence,light?"I cried out,
and thought that  the resultant echo has got it all wrong,
it really sounded odd.But I had crossed the point of no return.

But when I listened, intensely with my ears turned inwards
it sounded perfect"I am the verse immortal, the heart chants"

None would imagine,
a benign imp,
blithe, light footed
triggers a surge
of aesthetic spasms
******* of the brain,
moves incognito
on this high podium
beside your chair
when you
read your poem
just like when you're
in a creative reverie

Every time it's a mystery
how she sets music
within every word
how then a rhythm
in progression
is unleashed
flowing in to your
poetic musings
to create an image concrete,
correlating to the wave
beating in your brain

Heart, soul and spirit
merge in to one
poetic words to mark
what your being gathered
from spring flower fields
and scorched earth alike

all the poet  gathered
at the receiving end
of the slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune,
is set in tune,
all of you gathered here
for the poetry session
walking through the labyrinths
inebriated by poetic wine,
munch yourself bit by bit
in the cadence of poetic beats,
as past, present and dreams
in many small instalments
pour in from the beginning.

What the poet offers
takes, each one listener
to a world different,
one begets many
images proliferate.
They will relish all this
and be born again
within themselves
later on, leisurely with light
peeping out of their eyes,
an alchemy none can explain

He makes her stay, in his memory for yet another day,
didn't she wait, without the sign of desperation in anyway,
the world has it's callous ways, they were mute witnesses it seemed
she understood, he kept silence, hoping for the best; did he pretend?

In each garden he strolls, she appears as a flower, he struggles to forget,
in every flower he kisses she is the musky scent that makes him faint
on a rainy day, he stood enchanted, watching a peacock dance,
the eye- spots on it's feathers about her love eloquently spoke.

He lives a life went awry,can't blame it on her, she never complained,
it's him, who erred as a lover,the silent apathy that brewed destroyed,
misled by it's  blue hue he chose poison, that numbs,a grave mistake
facing mountain ranges, alone, he seeks forgiveness for his corruption.

The night, is present with all her special accoutrements,
see how mystifying her final role is; from  now time is at a stand still!
the stellar remnants, after the play is finally over
                       --interstellar medium of gas, dust and dark matter
                       accumulated waste after the rock concert, light years long.

Sell it to the best collector of art in the cosmos
go fast,  find him before all the universes crumble.
Let each piece feed to his ego's need and the greed to possess
make him  brag to the cosmic pantheon that he has the Piccassos, Dalis
and The scream, Munch's epiphany of mankind's predicament,
and all the galaxies from the dwarf to the most massive
present, past and the ones just fermenting on a wasted hope,
and the most original of the nights, the very last ever.

We'll drink the bubbling white blood of the day and dance,
the moon is our accomplice, we want to disappear together
before everything starts to disintegrate,
humankind on a pilgrimage, has then a change of mind
ladies and gentlemen we now are going
not for a fishing expedition in tranquil seas, but for a hunt in the wild.

hunt the rest of the world that rejects
our proposal to surrender, to the inevitable, we invited
we were immortals till the day before
but then we found out everything has a price.
For the gift of fire to the mankind, Prometheus had to
endure tantalizing days and nights,  countless
let's forget the fear of sin, and false happiness of hope
even water becomes our pain,
once we are forced to think in terms of sustenance.

the cigarette smell her breath emits
disturbs the delicate orchid,
it refuses her fragrance
using inhibitors,
as a retaliatory
measure.

An island lets itself go.
In rising  water finds a friend;
The past comes to naught.

Arresting artificial bloom from a  make believe garden,
Oh! magalomaniacal face of ill gotten glamour,
ribald queen of the kitsch, with endless variety in store,
age, cannot wither your, unmistakable garish taste-
or sadistic delights, each you do organize is outrageous,
than the one before, no doubt, how do you manage?
                  
I'll forget all those in an instance, but, that kiss, oh! that,
the one you gifted, to show you were pleased utmost,
stealthily away from the eyeshot of your posse of lovers,
other cannibals and party animals, under the darkened staircase,
was the last godforsaken straw;
 what a poor camel can do? if you so desire,
beggars, never were the choosers, you'd tell yourself,
in a self congratulatory note,
                      that much I am aware, my dear tormentor!

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.

Night sounds
speak to the sky's silence,
star lights wink
love messages to lighted windows,
unveiled night coyly smiles
at moonlight inching forward, to kiss;
an orchestra of million pieces,
lights, sounds, winds, waves and flights of passion
plays for a time capsule, to be kept in eternity's chest**.

Decide the course of the love therapy, you'd subject my body, soul and spirit,
my body is eaten by the poison weeds of passing moments, I am a dissolving island,
elate my spirit, still my mind, calm my body aches with love, the aura that ever surrounds you,
begin with your conquering lips, kiss me head to toe, let me drain in to you and sink in oblivion.

Wanton moon,
deftest angler I've ever seen,
my heart,
thrashes about wildly
caught in your fishing hook.
Pining for you each minute,
I wasn't aware where would
this love lead me in the end.
How blessed I should feel
for having my heart impaled
by love and longing
you tell me sans words
all the while,
What else can I hope
if I am hopelessly in love with this pain?
Keep me always like this,
your favourite minion.

1

Under the shadows of Albatross wings,

below the cacophonous calamity of

seagulls' unbridled mirth  at breeding time,

for us a secret hideout waits like a dream

far below the sea's foamy weaves

where corals reefs gleam in fluorescent glory

here, you with your nimble fingers would

caress my ****** moments and bring them  alive.

There, day or night makes no difference

for any being, from a sea horse to an ancient turtle.

                         2
A blue light pervades there  like eternity's smile

will you come with me to be my bride for ever?

I'll ask jelly fish to meld a wonderful wedding dress

more silvery than moonbeams falling on the foamy waves

none could ever imagine how it 'd look on your petite figure.

(Oh! for now I and you would forget  that we are perishable)

                                      3
The most peaceful coral castle we'll take over,

make life an extended adventure, play water games with mermaids

dolphins would be our horses, on which we'd gallop to long distances

become innocent like the children of yore, and see truth of life.

On the blue whale's back we'd sunbath, shoot arrows of flying fish,

to low hanging clouds to make copious rain ,  bring the skies down.

A giant squid for a day will be our moving bed, on it we'll bill and coo,

know each other's little whims, like no other man and woman had done,

we'll swim beyond the limits of elements, air, earth, land water and space.

                                     4

Once in a while, we'll come up, to see the sad realities our ilk breeds above,

let us stalk chemical polluters like ghosts, pay them in the same coin,

till they give up, we'll chase trawler boats, that **** all creatures

big and small unconcerned of a holocaust, constantly perpetrated,

takes only what gets them profit, the rest allowed to float dead!

Let's drive away other marauders of sea life, scare the living daylight out of

whale hunters, make sure oil spill will never happen again, even once.
                                 5

when everything is done, we'll grow pleasantly tired

dream an effulgent cloud, the bliss, leave our skin and bones

the old dress tired of us, wanted to say good bye as all others

we'd  become a florescent light, the algae sing at the depths

throughout the seabed; we'll soon be one with the blue eternal.

She is a true blue living legend
displaying  many colors of love
there is no doubt about it,if only
you know where to look at.
But wait,in the way she expresses it
everything  would get reversed!
if one concludes she is demure,
think twice before deciding.
She did invent a new tongue
entirely of monosyllables!
write it in high  hieroglyphics
none could ever aspire to decipher.
Don't forget to take this fact in to account
in bed, she is a whirlwind
unlike  most Indian brides,
who wear shyness as an armour
tradition prescribes for brides.

a mute ant army,
marches forward peacefully,
to a deep black hole!

moving ants,millions
from the hanging rock's crack
swarming,seeking what?

I sure miss you here,
(In the hope that
you miss me too)
And if you don't,
I don't know
where this narrow path
through dense woods
will take me at the end.
No way, I could go back
to the begining when
my hope is there in the
journey's end.

Presumptions, we think
would have no thorns to fear,
but cause  vein jumps
again and again that may prove
the grapes were sore after all.

Every wish prompting one
to hit the road, often with
no rhyme or reason, would
have underlying conditions,
though unseen from where one starts.
Why, are we afraid to speak openly
how the journey would end
even when we set out so excited?

On your wall beyond the reach
of  my eager eyes are sketches
still incomplete;
that may break or make me.
And what it does to you then
is an idea vague in my imagination.

From the moment my eyes riveted on you, my painted stork,
I haven't ever seen you separated from your mixed age flock.

I tried every trick in my book as best I could, to lure you,
To have a word in private, but you never seemed to get the cue.
All I could tell you at your earshot was this "Beware, impending
Drought would be severe, fly down alone, in the pond I keep full"

But you still loves to hang out on the trees near the drying  stream,
Though you fly around my fecund pond to survey once in a while.

On elephant’s back,
Mahout tenuously perched,
Swoons over moon!

Water lilies, libidinous lover boys, on the sly
circles her naked body, impertinently
while she unaware of this, swim and play
in her water-crazy, noisy country girl self
in this enclosure of ***** pines wildly in bloom,
She's happy for being shielded from prying looks
of rowdy village boys, adept in disrobing her with their eyes
  
Enamored, the lilies, white, blue and purple
inebriated all, by drinking the nubile beauty
limitless all along,under the  level of water
and above, breached all the reserves,
ahamelessly sevoured her saucy proximity
til she left when the dusk, shed saffron all over.
        Yet in her innocence she would think,
"Poor darlings,how much did they suffer, as I
splashed and broke the calm of the pond all evening"

we ran, to beat rain ,
huddled seeking tree’s cover;
a flood of time passed!

copying the sky, I
unable to stop the clouds,
reach infinity!