Drawing behind, her gathered black cloak ,
the night reluctantly withdraws
behind the numerous skyscrapers in the making
springing up, impatiently at various stages of scramble,
going one step above each passing day
as if there is no intention to stop,
till the day a fortress is built up around Bangalore.
Not the garden city of yore, any more
an unfamiliar painted doll, robbed of innocence,
full of malls, glass, chrome and marble pomp.
The fluorescent eyes of the city, bids
farewell to the retreating night
with which it played varied games till morn,
and wearily view the approaching daylight.
The world is changing its color, now, so fast with vigor
yet, it is just the same as ever, in essence.
A blue train wearing a white turban,
measures the bottom length of the new skyline.
As I watch, an observer of a bubble, a phenomenon
I look through the eyes of one similar,
a few million years later and see light, only light dominate.
Then, like I do, two eyes would observe and
think of eternity, the imaginary construct called time
and the interplay of black and white and the time in which both dissolve
Behind me you stand quiet, taking in my scent, dense with pheromone,
a witness on the verge of arousal, you gently caress my neck
your sharp teeth bite at my earlobes, sowing goosebumps
all through my body's landscape
Your long fingers, love to travel all my back and shoulders,
I dissolve within the present, travel down with your fingers,
your love transforms in to gentle all engulfing caresses,
that alone is real all through the ages.
I view through the eyes of the stranger,
who would see what I see in another time, in a form different
then we would have to accept, we are one and the same!
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
Drawing behind, her gathered black cloak ,
the night reluctantly withdraws
behind the numerous skyscrapers in the making
springing up, impatiently at various stages of scramble,
going one step above each passing day
as if there is no intention to stop,
till the day a fortress is built up around Bangalore.
Not the garden city of yore, any more
an unfamiliar painted doll, robbed of innocence,
full of malls, glass, chrome and marble pomp.
The fluorescent eyes of the city, bids
farewell to the retreating night
with which it played varied games till morn,
and wearily view the approaching daylight.
The world is changing its color, now, so fast with vigor
yet, it is just the same as ever, in essence.
A blue train wearing a white turban,
measures the bottom length of the new skyline.
As I watch, an observer of a bubble, a phenomenon
I look through the eyes of one similar,
a few million years later and see light, only light dominate.
Then, like I do, two eyes would observe and
think of eternity, the imaginary construct called time
and the interplay of black and white and the time in which both dissolve
Behind me you stand quiet, taking in my scent, dense with pheromone,
a witness on the verge of arousal, you gently caress my neck
your sharp teeth bite at my earlobes, sowing goosebumps
all through my body's landscape
Your long fingers, love to travel all my back and shoulders,
I dissolve within the present, travel down with your fingers,
your love transforms in to gentle all engulfing caresses,
that alone is real all through the ages.
I view through the eyes of the stranger,
who would see what I see in another time, in a form different
then we would have to accept, we are one and the same!
Sky line in front of my window was an orchestra of tree green
as far as eyes can see
and birds of many kind criss crossing the sky
But now all i see is a mad scramble of concrete ogres!
My fairy tale city of gardens has gone to dogs!!
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