the only reason
i ever submitted
to all of your childish needs
was because i was alone
vulnerable and broken
and in need of a hand to hold
and the fact it just happened to be you
that tripped me up
along the path to recovery
is the only reason
i will ever look back
upon my past and frown

A gleaming, sharpened  sword, SHE could **** without bloodshed,
HE is Buddha's gift of light, surging above, wind and waves,
they wouldn't cross each other's path it would seem, from the outset,
                                      but both are sublime,
in higher realms they permeate, in greater cycles they spread,
the sword that's her at that level of awareness
never would shed or touch blood, but cut away confusions, with light,
whichever be the path, once one  becomes accomplished,
peace would fill and lighten the soul, preparing to soar to the abode eternal.

He stood tall and strong
at the mountain top
Beneath his feet
is the strongest mountain in the world...
He took this mountain
with sheer determination..
He has conquered this mountain
With hardships.... with pain
Blood tears, Blood sweats
Frost bites, he faced it all...
The mountain is his in the end...

This mountain ...
is upon his grips, He understands it all
He and the mountain spirit blends...
He feels the air surrounds...
The mist, the breeze, the echos  
as he takes his breath...
His spirit is high and strong...
He has won his biggest war
He has defeated his biggest fear
If he could conquer the highest mountain in the word...
No other mountains he couldn't take  

At the top of the mountain he stands
with his country's flag in his hand...
If you couldn't move this rocky mountain...
Don't ever think you could move this strong will man...
No, you cant  neither  touch this man nor his spirit
As tough as the rocks....
As hard as the mountains..
As rough as him the man who has conquered the world...
As tall as Mount Everest his spirit stands ....

Just bought some capsicums
Big,round, fresh capsicums
Sweet and sour chicken in the menu
some fresh tomatoes, ginger and onions
A great recipe from mom's kitchen,
doesn't it sound and smell awesome?

green and red capsicums on the table
Take a sharp knife to cut them into halves
Paprika adds  flavor to my chicken recipe
The taste I must adore...

Surprise Surprise...  almost trip from the kitchen stool
A sharp knife falls on the kitchen floor
The green capsicums screams in despair...
" Are you really cutting me to pieces?"
And the red capsicums yell,
" Cut the greens not the reds?"
Is this my imagination ? Am I cooking in a dream?
capsicums can speak? Oh.. They really speak...
and pleading me to omit them from the recipe...
Again I look at the pretty capsicums..
Deciding whether to cook them or not

To capsicum I offer this thanks,
when needing something like peppers
It's you I very much adore,
Without, this recipe is lacking in so many ways.

Decided! In mom's kitchen
There is no compromise
Pretty capsicums green and red...
In my cooking *** you go.....

Its a silent chilly night
Sitting here alone
My boredom is maximum
Decided I need a night out..
Perhaps just a walk and breathe some fresh air...

Walking past the old museum
A glimpse of an old man
sitting on a chair...
His shadow on the wall can tell
Just how bored he must have been
Working all night long..
especially on a chilly winter night

I approach the old watchman
Offers him a cigarette,
It may sound crazy
but I really need a company
This Night watchman  says, quite surprisingly,
" everything is quiet"
too dead in the museum...
as if he understands my curiosity
about being a night watchman

I don't need to probe more
he says its too eerie in the inside
surrounded with a hundred to 800 years old artifacts
and some classic works of dead artists
I work for the pay... he says...
I don't need to protect the antiques..
To this I am quite amazed...
but he says, " at night when everything is dark and quiet"
the museum comes to life...
my heart beats faster to this...
a real creepy story.. he is telling me..

He admits having difficulty to breathe
when he sees all the musical instruments
played by themselves one night...
when he tried to run... all doors are locked by themselves
he even peed in his pants watching all the statues
dancing and partying in every floors of this very very old museum
a spooky place... yes... ghostly spirits yes...
name it.. he says "I have met them all"
and even shake hands with them every night...

I have cold sweats... I have goosebumps...
I ask him whether he'd like a tuna sandwich
I'd go and buy them and come back for more chats with him
Its 3 am and I am listening to all these horror stories
from an old night watchman...

He agrees for the offer of sandwich
and demands for a black coffee too...
I runs to the nearest Seven Eleven
and returns as soon as possible...

I am standing here now in front of the old museum
with sandwich and coffee in my hand...
The Night watchman isn't there anymore...
he just disappears...

Curiosity makes me come back
the very next day
only to find out..
the Night watchman I talked to ...
and smoked with...
has passed away a year ago...
what an eerie feeling...
I just had an interview with  a dead Night watchman...

Is it true?
Is it fair?
Is it necessary?
We are all different in our own way
but at the end of the day,
we all have feelings!
do not judge so easily
without first trying to understand...

the scent of a woman
the best perfume
perfect garden of roses