Zen--emptiness
         in emptiness
         is freedom
        
         in freedom
         is wisdom
        
         in wisdom is
         enlightenment

        and he who is enlightened
        is
        fullness

LOVE’S PARADISE LOST

Paradise lost
love shall come no more
ashes have consumed
every blissful moment that has gone before.

There is no comfort
in tears
the past is buried
in the nowhere of a million years.

A BETTER RESURRECTION

I have no wit, I have no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
A lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is like the falling leaf;
O Jesus, quicken me.
(Book: The Collected Poems by Sylvia Plath)


Coda of mine:

Is there light after the darkness
if so, how would we know?
we mortals are born to suffer alone
in life's stormy and unfriendly waters wherever we go

but the spirit of man
is larger than man---in suffering he will grow
(purified by a better resurrection)
and richer seeds of wisdom he will surely sow.

Love’s Philosophy
BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
The fountains mingle with the river
   And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
   With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
   All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
   Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven
   And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
   If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
   And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
   If thou kiss not me?

Nancy, do you remember me?
I was a member of the Dramatic Society
you played the part
of Juliet--you stole my heart.

I was not good enough to be Romeo
I wished that had been me--I know
that would have drawn me
close to you--now all I have is the beautiful memory

of you saying those words--so amorous and sweet
I dreamt since--had your eyes did mine meet
you would feel the love stirring within me
do you remember Shelley's 'Love's Philosophy?'

Your home address I got from your brother
he knows me like none other
he will testify to my high morals and impeccable character
my mobile is .....I would really love to meet you and chatter.

signed:
One who adores you but is shy and lacks the courage to approach you-forgive me for writing this.
I am Arthur

Love is bereft ---abandoned by the heartless
    cry not, nor lament--none is around to listen
     sorrows of the broken heart
    are never assuaged by reason
    
   ..ah ! when would love
  its splendour once more  glisten?
  my pillow I #bite this sombre night
  in tears--I never knew love was such a prison.

Snakes hide under the grass
crocodiles and sharks under the sea
lions, tigers and leopards have their unknown lairs
where's your hiding place? Tell me.

You aren't my friend for sure
yet I count you not as an enemy
but something's lurking inside you
I can sense--it's about me and I've to be  vigilant and wary.

I ain't sweet
I can be real bad
I pull my dog's ears
when I'm not glad

I kick the pebble back from school
hoping it would land on someone's head
I don't like our form teacher Miss Carey's ugly nose
I'm a monster many teachers dread.

It's hard to be a king
easy to be a pauper
why is it nearly everyone
would rush to choose the former?

I don't want to know
more than I should
too much knowledge makes for mischief
seldom does it do any good.

The learned I shun--all the time-
they rank as  the world's most rude
barking at one another like mad dogs--cantankerous, contemptuous,
supercilious, condescending, spiteful and outrageously crude!

Come, share my dreams
never mind our wrinkles and sunken cheeks
let old age be but a metaphor
our love grows more warm and tender  and the sweetest language speaks.

Come, share my dreams
if there are tears in my eyes, you will understand--you alone
we had laughter, we had many a sorrow
faults that had been (forgive me) were never yours-but my own.

Come, share my dreams
let me lift up my violin from the case
let me sing you the songs you loved most
for your love and devotion I scarcely could find the words to praise.

Come, share my dreams
they are as fresh and beautiful as all the years' gone before
come into the faithful heart that worships you
and all that it can say is:  'With each passing day, I would love you more'.

Come to my dreams
(as you would not speak to me)
chide me then to your heart's content, say the worst
as though I were your  sworn enemy.

Come to my dreams
and declare: ' I never loved you--it's your fancy
remove me forever
from your memory'.

Come to  my dreams
I'll show you the scented letters you once sent me:
'  You've filled my heart with such joy
You are my ecstasy'.

Come to my dreams
Let me show you the photos of you and me
at the back of which you wrote:
' Our love is meant for eternity'.

Today holds you captive
you can hardly escape
tomorrow is still asleep
oblivious to what you do now or shape.

Today stares right in your face
(every thought and action of yours it does tape)
can you free yourself from its clutch?
only if you have an invincible mind-scape.

Sit still, don't dare move
fix your eyes on them--stay so-
remember
it's their show.

The audience is clapping
follow, don't you fail to follow
furtive eyes are watching you
remember---it's their show.

Intermission: hold your opinion
they have agents looking around--you don't know
don't whisper a word to the next person
Remember--it's their show.

They must be the cynosure (nothing less)
wherever they are, wherever they go
stay out of their way and trouble you would avoid
remember always---it's their show.

I CAN’T LOOK BACK EVER

I've taken this route
I can't look back ever
my footprints have disappeared
rain-washed and sun-burnt away--never

will my life
be the same again
though dim the horizon
and I walk in pain.

I can't look back
I won't  regret,  I won't look back
though the journey knows no end
and there's no food or drink in my knapsack.

Ah, via dolorosa
which traveller is without a tear ?
but I won't look back
I'll still venture forward alone--I know no fear.

Not this time
  once is enough
  hungry and thirsty I was
  life then was rough

  and you let me believe
  in your El Dorado
  I returned more destitute
  all because you I did blindly follow.

Because I don't know
and know I don't know
it saves me from putting up
a stupid and self-stultifying show.

You thought I knew
(what a mistake you did make!)
But I knew you knew far more than I did know
I held back and my folly I did forsake.

Because I speak the truth
( '  To speak the truth is the best policy')
those around me raise their fists
crying foul and threaten: 'You are our enemy!'

They would rather I lie
( '  Say good things about us lest
you pile troubles over your head
we will hound you and you would know no rest').

In the court the judge says to me:
'You must speak the truth and nothing but the truth'
my enemies in the room cast me a murderous look
I would end up either in prison or suffer the boot*.

What should I do?
I am done for either way
the safest way out
is to cut off my tongue-then nothing I would say.

BECAUSE I LIE

Because I lie
you will catch me somehow
some day
though not now

I would give
myself away because I would slip
at that critical moment
my cunning I can't always keep

though I had triumphed
many a time--in many a place
the mask must fall down
and what I inherit would only be disgrace

but I'm used
to telling every lie--I can't stop
I have become my own victim
and at the end I must lonely sob.

But such people-
the mighty, the powerful
the rich, the pseudo- intellectual
the influential
are the most odious

what **** sapiens?
they are the mal-products
of evolution
who bring shame
to the human race
in their inhumanity

bullies
narcissists
items of assorted pathology
but they can't see-
' We are the authority
and can't do wrong'.

In the newspapers
they are the centre-piece
their pride oozes
from their every paw

but time brings down
even the mightiest
and such people end up
as discarded old newspapers
in the dust-bin of history
where they belong so appropriately.

Because of memory
hate, more than love, returns to roost
(love knows its place and needs nothing
its steadfast joys to boost).

The gaps of time are closed
the past like a cinema-screen unrolls-
faces, scenes, places, words, dreams
sorrow and pain--each its story unfolds.

Memory like a task-master
wields its well-seasoned whip
its punishment it threatens to unleash
with cuts painful and deep.

Now in my days of decay
yet I've not forgotten-
me you did abandon without a single reason
do you dare ask to be forgiven?

From a broken heart
tears will fall to water
the garden of love
that someone will come to  be your lover.

If the sorrows of love
you never did know
how would you taste that ecstasy
when love its splendour doth show?

Enough of the moon and stars
of serenades sung under the moonlight
of wines spilled on the floor
of passionate kisses late after midnight.

Night is a heartless seducer
tricky games on lovers it does play
how many hearts has it misled?
how many has fallen  prey?

Enough of make-believe
of dreams doomed to perdition
of promises to be broken
of vows that will fade into oblivion.

Who says life is  never-ending romance
love is meant for eternity?
so many poets had been unhappy in love
they assuaged their agony through heartbreak poetry.

HUMAN FRAILTIES
Smiles do not tell the true character
Love is not what it seems
Friendship can be faked
There is deception in dreams


Words hide too many lies
Promises are made to be broken
Who would self-accuse
Condemn words he has spoken?

Who is to say-
old age is wisdom?
rather it's an
unknown kingdom.

The older I get
the less I know for sure
life is a mysterious continent
to live is to struggle, to explore and to endure.

Certitude, what certitude?
wisdom, what wisdom?
human intelligence is finite
the mind that's fixed on certitude is serfdom.

In the beginning  nothing I knew
and at the end--still nothing
nay,  old age is doubts and the
beginning of learning.

You come to me
where ever I am, near or far away
at your will
over which I have no say--

never had I compelled
love to suit my way
only that you would
your own heart obey.

Ah, my beloved,  I struggle
not knowing what to say
(words are feeble and they fumble
nay, they shiver and quiver...so little they convey).

You come to me
be it the depth of night or the break of day
at your will and this is all to me you say
'  Light of my heart, let me love you this way'.

You can no longer knock at the door
of your paradise lost
bliss you forfeited
now you are tossed

into the oblivion
of limbo
there's no light to lead you
and you don't know where to go.

Here is the abyss
of the darkest of the dark
worse than the ship-wrecked
not even the weakest spark

of hope will appear to console
none will hear your lament
banished from the golden land
in this wretched pit all your years will be spent.

Anger first cost me my friends
then my job
my long-suffering wife left me
it's too late now for me to sob.

I quarrelled with the bank manager
the bank cancelled my credit card and recalled my loan
I scored an 'A' for being Melbourne's MAM (Most Angry Man)
it's too late now for me to moan.

To depart
is to die a little
good-byes are tearful and break the heart
life is brittle.

'  I must return to the open sea
which is my home
I'm dying, dying every moment when I think of thee
and I wonder: ' shouldn't I cease to roam?'

Reason walks half the way
and complains: 'I'm weary'
it asks the heart-
I don't know why,  please tell me'

The heart is quick to reply:
'  You don't know
  why you are taking this journey
  as for me--my dream I faithfully follow'

Time doesn't exist
but for mankind's presence
it's amoral, heartless and nonchalant
though it doesn't utter a single sentence.

Wielding a whip over everyone's head
like a cattle-drover
none would it leave alone
it's a bully and a dictator.

The day is bleeding
men and women are in frenzy
work must be done--deals must go through-
everyone needs the money

too eager to push a competitor down
it's survival of the fittest
it's a jungle out there
pity the weakest.

Many would be the day's losers
hopes will be dashed,  tears will flow
hearts will be broken,  promises unfulfilled
that's the way the world does go.

This is the bleeding of day
and a heavy toll it has taken on so many
the evening and night offer little rest or comfort
while time is watching without the slightest sympathy.

..... but, in the dark,
light, however weak,  flickers somehow
(though we know not its source-
it matters not)
and robs the night
of its complete control-

we might fumble
but would not fall
and that's consolation enough.

If we have faith
in the light
it would brighter glow
as it is in direct conversation
with us---and does know
where our hearts yearn to go
while darkness lurks nearby
but is powerless in limbo.

Each heart is a candle
waiting to be kindled
even a droplet of light-dust
will set it aflame.

Even in the darkest night
there is a light, however weak
to guide and befriend you
are you that person who lives
in the light?

Night and day
they aren't just separated by time
but are worlds far apart
each has a soul of its own.

Day is unreal-- artifice
of men and women in action
doing their daily round
(so called 'earning a living')
almost like cogs in the wheel
in a place labelled 'society'
human beings are mere numbers
and in the collective they lose themselves
and assume a common identity

but night dispels
the collective
it speaks a different language
and deals with each individual
in specificity
it appears either a friend
or as an enemy.

It's  crunching time
there's no escape
(safety in numbers as in the day
has disappeared)
the inter-face is real and even foreboding
will the individual be able to celebrate
or will these hours
be sheer torture and punishment?

No, not discontent
but the consuming fire
that rushes through the veins
to allow words
to find their voice
in the poetry-land
of the heart and mind

here is the culmination
the distillation
the illumination
of the poet's finest thoughts
and feelings
where experiences
gained
through every life's passage
come to blend together
to find utterances
so mysterious and profound
as to be beyond
his human comprehension.

Is the poet
a chosen breed?

He asks himself
but knows not.

You knocked at my door
in the harshest night-hour of that winter
frozen, hungry, pale and in despair
you were gladly invited and we had a hearty dinner.

We chatted about life
and all things  beautiful and sublime
we sang and recited poetry together
our laughter filled the night-air and we lost count of time.

I was then so young and my heart was eager
to capture the essence of each moment of wonder
old, weary, derelict and only a spectre of a man
I am at your door this summer day--' 'I knew you never' comes your answer.

The same echo of an old song
drifts every midnight through my window
it will not leave me alone--I know not why-
every note seems to sigh in sorrow

but I have no tears
for the long-lost past
as youth is but a forgotten blissful dream
the poet speaks lies when he says that love does forever last.

A boy
thinks he knows more than a girl and is so much stronger and smarter--he builds his muscles by going to the gym and wears the best brands to impress her.  He likes the neighbours' daughter but is afraid to speak to her when she appears over the fence.  He opens his window at night and sings Are You Lonesome Tonight? --loudly so that she can hear.  Sometimes, he reads aloud the love sonnets of Shakespeare hoping she is there...
Nothing happens.  One day, in desperation, he writes a note and throws over the fence with the words-- Lucy, my dog is lonely and needs a companion--can you bring yours to the field and I shall bring mine so that they can become friends--I mean, get to know and like each other?
They do meet one day, they go to the same university, they fall in love and they marry---and now they walk their dog together in the same field
with their little son and daughter.  I was once a boy like other boys so I know what it is to grow up.

Girl
means what boy is not--she has what he doesn't have--she is more patient and intuitive--she can deliver babies when she's old enough to marry--
she will then be the centre of the home and bring the kids every joy through her love and dedication (the boy is then the father who just watches on and says: Yes, very nice, very good,  we are a happy family'--
where would you and I be if we had no mothers who were once the sweetest and prettiest girls?

The world #has grown# old
before its appointed time
it has about lost its soul
once so noble and sublime.

Upon its brow, pale, wrinkled and cold
is written:  '  I am no longer in my prime
once I was the boldest of the bold
now my every song and verse no longer holds a single rhyme'

I came, I saw
but I did not conquer
it wasn't my goal at the outset
to win a battle --only to wonder

what the whole wide world
to me held in store
I returned a little wiser
and am eager to venture out for more.

There's no escape from THEM
they will hunt you down
not of your doing---they have to find a scapegoat
though you know them not---somehow

they will attribute their failings
to you---' You caused our downfall'
you are their 'marked man'
and hopelessly you protest-- 'But I don't know you at all'.

There's no escape from THEM
even if you become a monk in a faraway monastery
or decide to be a recluse in the furthest mountain
they would still come in hordes as your relentless enemy.

   None hears you though you say'  But I did none any harm
   I'm just another human being--a nobody-
   why have they chosen me as their target?
   Alas!  I'm doomed !--can someone help set me free?'

Many things we humans
can set aside
the hardest by any definition
is our pride

standing at the centre
of our being
like the Commander- General
and saying: ' I'm either EVERYTHING or nothing!'

Everyone is consumed at the end
   but sadly
   so many were consumed long before their end

Take a genuine interest in people but don't get upset if you are snubbed by some---you can't expect everyone to be responsive , considerate or generous in spirit--the world is far from perfect.

The deaf and dumb person makes the perfect neighbour.

However mangy your neighbour's dog is,
don't comment

From this, I can tell whether you are happy or unhappy-
how many complaints do you have each day?

Yes, I am your friend
          only insofar
          you don't impinge on my self-interest
           or step on my little toe.

'I thought you were my friend',  I said
    Reply:  '  Sorry,  I am not that person'

The truth will not set you free-
it will disgust you.