Running in the moon's shadow
I catch your glimpse,
Your eyes wear a burning glow
A cruel smile is on your lips.
I know what's in your mind,
Revenge for all the wrong,
The slavery, the perpetual grind,
The suppression borne so long!
You walked the fire with patience
Stretching limits of your endurance,
But my might, my blinded sense
Felt no remorse, no penitence!
I'm fleeing from the moon's shadow,
From the wrath your heart drips,
Your eyes wear a deadly glow,
A monstrous smile is on your lips!

The earth pours
All her woes
To the stars,
How her eons of toil
The earthmen spoil
She can’t as fast renew.

The stars burn
In her tragic yarn
Till the night pales,
Leave on her leaf
Their tears of grief
As the morning dew.

The poet's manuscripts
are preserved for posterity
with odd bits of his personal things
historical than literary
immortalized with passage of time
as his timeless work
perfumed in air conditioned staleness
letters sent and received
the mortal mind sending poems
desiring to be published
and outside on a falling winter day
in a dog's head
the crumbling desire
for a crumb of bread.

I came into you when you were a child
You dreamed me, shaped me, loved me
And conceived me from thence….
There was no looking back
Whole of me pervaded your sense!
Outside you, you had to find someone
To have that climactic one moment
Just to create me, in you latent,
And moving away when you had me
Womanhood attained, joyous, free….
You knew I would be the one outside
Recreate the moment, continue the ride
To bring back me in you again
Never tiring, forever yearning for the pain!

they dress up the dead.

he doesn't move from his place of peace
savors the incense's aromatic bliss
adorned with flowers robed in white
ready to take off for the final flight.

the mourners breathe in whispers low
head bowed down cheeks wet in flow
muffled sobs seek shoulder's rest
bid adieu pray soul be blessed.

*this morn i found one chick dead cold
born too in a cage a few days old
the lone mourner of a severed bond
i picked it up and threw to the pond!

In the shadow of shrubs on the marigold dew
You will not be there but I'll smell of you.
In the stilly evening on the moon kissed tree
I will think of you in melancholy.
When the day end shows the evening star
I'll look up and wonder how far you are.
As the sky paints the water with bluish hue
I'll know life won't be same without you.
On nights forlorn bereft you so grim
I'll pine to see you once in my dream.

A good man is soon out of company.

The woman he lives with
believes he is a fool
and having seen no sign of his cure
she feels insecure.

He is weak and so acts good,
she rues in bitter mood.

Goodness buys him no good place anywhere.

People interpret his grace his kindness
as his meekness.

He leaves his seat for others
but is never offered a seat
with sellers he is nice
but parts paying the worst price
being never vocal with claim
favors seldom find his name.

Yet in goodness only
his heart loves to dwell
and on the humble bed
he sleeps well.

Ms Lovepeace
Seeks no fame nor pelf
She feels bliss
When left to herself.
She craves not company
Loves not to party
For her the best moment
Is one with herself spent.
For this queer nature of Ms Lovepeace
She wasn’t ever anybody’s heartthrob
Nor was ever her cheek pecked a kiss
All she ever heard was o such a snob.
She likes it that way, she doesn’t demur
The unflattering things said behind her
She wants it and it makes her happy
Times she spends in her own company.
You may think it too mean
This dislike of her own kin
But Ms Lovepeace doesn’t mind the cost
Of enjoying the peace in her permafrost.

I dipped my toe
in the inviting shallowness of the creek.

her muddy water
gurgled in joy

she stoked the fire of my desire

wove me dreams
with moonbeams

and I waded far on her

till the water rose
above my nose

death seemed close and nigh.

I didn’t die

drifted away on her

going stronger
growing weaker.

(so they say once you dip your toe
soon lose your way
in the muddy creek’s flow)

On my shoulder a heap of garment
In two hands two birded cage
In my mind time management
That I love to do with craze!

List of my works to do
Keep growing in a hellish way
Clipping nails polishing shoe
Time is too short for one day!

When to do them you may ask
If all loose ends I’ve to tie
So I take up multitask
There’s not even time to die!

At 8.30 her medicine
9 I must run the pump
I must keep my cheek trim clean
Traitor time not run but jump!

With one hand I push toothbrush
With one eye I keep check on milk
Alertness aids in the morning rush
Time’s too alert for you to bilk!

Stairs to climb windows to open
Pluck some flowers from back garden
Time autocrat hears no bargain
Slow down a bit get a big burden!

I’ve to make time to blow her a kiss
Will be away whole day she’ll miss
While I peck I hold a biscuit
For the dog at the door badly needs it!

I don’t ever think time kind to me
Give me respite a little time free
But chase it hard without relent
A multitasker bent on time management!

*In this thankless pursuit I can’t tell thee
If I manage time or time manages me
But one thing sure I make time on bed
For not just love but what cooks in head!

Gallery after gallery
in the cool conditioned air
sketches and traces and objects of his art
capture the heart.
His songs played in low tune
fills the atmosphere with an unworldliness.
Here you are immune to the outside
where a hot sun scalds hungry dogs
a man carries ten times his weight
people haggle for little bargain.

The museum hides the pain
and the poet's dreamy world matters little.
But you forget and delve deeper.

The dog struggles to learn
the art of living
for a day.

Maybe so I willed
In half sleep’s ethereal stream
In January’s mustard field
She hugged me in liplocked dream!

What now she said eye on eye
I’m come past all fear
So our lips never go dry
Nothing stops us from here!

I put my tongue on hers
Rolled in her saliva filled
Her eyes blinked million stars
Traveling time in the mustard field!

Bloomed yellows thunderous bright
Rained sky a sweet redress
Dream came at end of night
Wept wet in her embrace!

I tiptoed on her bedside
Her lips quivered moist filled

Maybe so she willed

Same dream in the mustard field!

This one poem must write now
Can’t foretell but see it how
The trolley bearing a sunken frame
Someone whispers some known name.

The lips quiver for all left out
Knows this journey is last no doubt
The game is off time in checkmate
The words hit head on iron gate.

Some whispers breathes too slow
Doctors tell gods only know
Fingers twitch for one last paint
Before goes in smoke to firmament.

What's not seen veiled in dark hue
Are frosted drops that fall like dew
Orphaned born begs for no name
Inked in tears this one last poem.

I hold onto
like they're precious

my ego
my anger
my vanity
my dignity
my belief
my faith

miles of them
they would need reams of paper
to be written
and when stacked high
could be seen only
MY.

MY

the self ruthless

wiping out your face!

I’m happy to have lived here in this my abode
Without bothering to think if it was made by god
Nor needed to know why here only the bell rang
For the earth to take birth from one great big bang.

Know this much I’m bound in circle of cause and effect
With god playing a truant he himself isn’t perfect
Often when and where needed he keeps a distance
Not just feeds the good the evil too he gives a chance.

I’m happy to be here the abode of god or not
What’s his designs and purpose I spare not a thought
Happy to be here till I drop down like a leaf
That lived without a question a faith or belief.

Today I looked at her face
Her way of looking at me
My attempt to crudely assess
If she only fakes to be happy!

I noticed how parted her lip
When she spoke if twinkled her eyes
If her words fell gently or steep
Is she happy or hiding her cries!

I tried to read her face’s lines
Looked to find on it a trace
If were laid there some signs
Crying loudly of hidden distress!

Can’t say it was much of a success
For my eyes were biased lovingly
To read only one thing from her face
That she is quite happy with me!

She stops as I stop runs when I run
Having her beside is such cool great fun
Having her beside is a big plum peace
Just she not there, my world goes amiss.

She stops as I stop looks when I look
Each fuzzy corner dark hole and nook
Having her beside is a joy in its own
Just she not there, I stand all alone.

She talks when I talk listens when I do
Always by my side a friend she is true
Being with her is most precious time spent
Just she not there, means for me a torment.

When worry beaten, she wears my weary face
How she knows my mind its all redress
She is a true mate, my one and only Daisy
Just she not there, my world goes crazy.

She teases me would you dare
climb few steps and go upstairs
sleep the night alone.

She knows well my fear of ghost
knows too well I fear them most
a fear I don't disown.

Phantoms I do conjure
a malady without any cure
a fear I've not outgrown.

Dragging footsteps shadows around
hearing sounds where there's no sound
whispers eerie moans.

Creaking doors yawning darkness
present they all fear's ugly face
shivers chill in bone.

In my mind lies on topmost
swirling mist of bothering ghost
a fear I can't dethrone.

So I don't love lone upstairs
gobbling ghosts and chilly scares
all the threats in store.

Tell her *dear tease no more
give my word not to snore
make my bed on floor.

Up my backyard tree
A family is my guest
In a happy living spree
Cozy in their nest!
I saw them build it strong
With whatever scraps they found
Laboring all along
To beak-pick them from ground!
Secure and steady
The nest was soon ready
To welcome in one morn
Cute little new born!
Rearing them is hard
Feeding the hungry brood
When mother stands on guard
The father goes for food!
Fast they grow sweet chicks
From fluffy to colored plumage
It’s a matter of weeks
Before they turn a new page!
I don’t want them to haste
But I know they would soon fly
Leaving a hole in my heart
For the expanse of the sky!

They still follow the lizard’s motion
Her eyes a sky mirrored in ocean
My oldest mate at the kitchen door
She wants love and nothing more!

At age of six a grand old dame
Understands when called by name
Her furs are white grey fleck on head
She’s a ravishing beauty heaven made!

I still don’t know her fondness how
Sings the notes of melody’s meow
Her profound eyes they forever plead
I want your love more I don’t need!

In the morn’s hour when making tea
Her loving look births the first poetry
Tell her lips her heart’s tender purr
Love me a little don’t keep me far!

When I pour her morning’s due
Croon her name to give her the cue
Blue ocean’s eyes in gratitude say
Love me a little I’ll make your day!

Man oh man be kind, don’t be so mean
Leave for me a scrap, don’t lick it clean
Men of toiled hands, creasy worry face
My home is not forest, but this urban space
I love yer food so tasty, spicy, fried in oil
Peck at everything, even your bowel’s spoil

Man oh man be kind, don’t be so harsh
Leave a little space, my space is sparse
Men of busy walks, bushy knitted brow
My home is not forest, here only I grow
I love yer food so tasty, but it ain’t a shame
Pick up everything, even your spit and phlegm

Man oh man be kind, kindly look at me
Leave a little love, I love your company
Men fair and dark, having or lacking grace
My home is not forest, I live at your address
I love yer food so tasty, crunchy salty sweet
Pounce at everything, your waste becomes my treat

Man oh man be kind, I ensure your place don’t rot
Pay me your sight a little, spare me a kind thought
Men of all shades, all religion cast and creed
My home is not forest, your space is what I need
I love yer food so tasty, the smell when you unwrap
I’ll gleefully pick up, my friend’s throwaway scrap

Man oh man be kind, don’t feign you don’t care
I’m your all season mate, comrade of all weather
Men of generous souls, broad and golden heart
My home is not forest, I love to be your part
I love yer food so tasty, baked or fried in oil
Throw for me a crumb, a scrap for all my toil

A sedative of love
Round the clock care
An aura of tender warmth
You give it all,
My mind reader!
I’m scared,
By the delirium
That overpowers me
Enslaves all my senses
And makes me blindly yield
To you, my mind reader!
I doubt
If I deserve
This God’s bounty,
Your hawkish eyes
That shadow me
Shade me
From getting burnt.
But what if
You’re gone mind reader,
The only one to make me smile,
Wipe my tears,
Reach beyond skin to my mind
And able to read every page!

I couldn’t read you
After these many years
Words I thought would bring you cheers
Brought your eyes a drop of dew.
I couldn’t be your perfect guy
What I tried all the while
Couldn’t bring your eyes a smile
There still lumps of sadness cry.
My woman after these many years
I couldn’t get through your tapestry
You still remain Christie’s Mystery
Couldn’t explore your hidden layers.

My eyes are roving, clever and playful
In the tensest moments I don’t lose my cool
From my fingers the bullets fly
I dive deep and jump from the sky.
I do hide behind occasional beard
I want my martinis shaken not stirred
My mantra is only one word ‘win’
The only car I ride is Aston martin.
My name turns my enemies morose
They’re pinned down by my gizmos.
Women just madly fall for me
Clad skimpily in alluring bikini
Chiseled figures slim and tall
I choose the good but go for all.
I am pressed for time so much
I can’t do without my omega watch
Though I’m not stuck in a brand or two
Rolex and Seikos will also do.
I feel instead of lengthening the list
It’s time for me to clear up the mist
A suave smart and fearless guy
I also happen to be a timeless spy.
I play with the villains dangerous games
Love to be called Bond without James
With me the baddies can never get even
You know the world knows me by 007.

On the rooftop
I meet my shadow
On the hyacinth pond!
He leads a carefree life,
Happy at just being
My shadow!
Like me too
He sips the moon
But pens no poem,
Swoons not
In the ethereal night,
Only drops dead
When the moonlights fade!
He has my life
Without my worries
With my passions
Without my strife!
He doesn’t yield
When I say
‘hey, shadow, get my face,
take my place’
he says ‘no,
I’m happy a shadow
on the hyacinth pond
reflected but not reflecting
on a moonlit night!

my son is a better version of me

i easily break
he rides storms smilingly

i crumble in a crisis
he handles stoically

my emotions play loud on face
he hides it handsomely

i'm doubtful of exploring
he ventures courageously

i speculate on life too much
he bothers not seriously

At the tiffin break they surrounded him all wanted to have a look
He held it tight in the dim class light in his hand the hidden book
The boy was proud for the gathered crowd each wanted to win his trust
Went on to plead made frantic bid reading the book was a must.

With no option he started auction the boy saw in the deal a chance
For the mystery book seemed worth more than a mere cursory glance
I stole a look at the tempting book leapt my heart of a curious child
On the cover glowed bright in dripping blood the title ‘Mysteries of the Wild’.

In childish imbalance I lost all sense was gripped with one mad desire
Come what may at whatever cost from the boy the book I must hire
The boy having got a whiff of my plan and gauged the urge on my face
Said ‘ten full rupees is what you must part I would settle for nothing less’.

Ten full rupees was real big money no way could be arranged by a child
Knowing it was absurd still I pondered at stake was ‘Mysteries of the Wild’
That day I ran home with just one thought haunting the mind of a child
Ten full rupees is no big deal for an access to the mysteries of the wild.

On that evening of ceaseless haunting I gave all my lessons a miss
For there was with me a note of ten rupee given by dad as school fees
It needed a tough will to strike devil’s deal put the money to misuse
But possessed as I was to know the mystery I needed no reason’s excuse.

Next day in the class without a fuss I paid him the sum of school fees,
‘Give me the book as you promised for I’ve brought your ten rupees’.
‘I’m so sorry’ said the cunning lad ‘the book is taken by someone,
so stand by for the time be in the queue like the other boys in the run’.

Hell on me broke loose tightened the noose I could hardly stand on my feet
Heard my dad shout when the truth was found out the result couldn’t be sweet
The thrashings I got scolding and what not the bitter memories of a child
Sank all passions drowned the obsession to unravel the ‘Mysteries of the Wild’.

Years rolling by buried the child’s sigh lay hidden in the lost mind’s nook
The momentary thrill that remained unfulfilled forgotten was that prized book
Then one afternoon as I was passing by an almost antique bookstore
It peeped through a timeworn glass that book of mystery from the yore.

I felt an inexplicable yearning to own for once that book
To retrieve from its breast my childhood dream it took
‘What price’ I asked the man ‘I want to have it please’
‘Never mind it’s unsold long not worth ten rupees’.

I got the book with a heavy heart came sat in a corner of the park
Caressed soft held its bound cover that at last got my finger mark
In that twilight hour under evening star I wept like an inconsolable child
Knowing no more I had need of it I would never open the ‘Mysteries of the wild’.

They all said they had seen none
The owner vouched he had it on bed
But in the morning the mobile phone was gone
Who could steal it troubled the four heads.

The four mates in the house had their alibis
They slept sound after late night chore
One can’t expect them to be up by sunrise
The question is who opened the door.

Only one boy said he was out for a walk
But he locked from outside before exit
He affirmed he found untampered the lock
Everything was as it was when he left it.

Another boy’s story gave a vague impression
Earl morn he sensed someone was there
But before soon he vanished in thin air
He wasn’t sure if it was an apparition.

The remaining one he needed no alibi at all
They knew he would sleep without cessation
In his state of slumber would be nothing to recall
One could safely keep him out of suspicion.

The last one left was the owner of the phone
Of course he wouldn’t steal from himself
But fact was in his room he lay alone
Could remove it without any help!

He didn't appear much let down by the theft
Said somebody might have sneaked in
After the first boy for a walk had left
The apparition the other had seen.

To this day the case has not been solved
Among the suspects can count all the three
Each one had alibi but none could be absolved
The missing mobile remained a mystery.

The three still talk about the fourth guy
The owner of the missing mobile
For that same afternoon he went to buy
A new phone to close the case file.

On the mangrove bank of the tidal river
lie embedded the mollusks,
they appear mournfully motionless,
deceiving you to believe
they’re too passive to be alive,
are just displays of dead shells
in their muddy graveyard,
though the truth is
they are mystic monks
silently enduring their estuarine transience,
bidding in meditation the time
the return tides carry them to their marine abode.

Each morn
awakening's first breath
recreates the myth
today would be born
a new kind of poem

Mind in the heavens sail
seeking kind of a tale
never unearthed

travels the whole length
the *****'s renewed strength
digging deeper
evermore
foraging space time
for one rhyme
that in its first breath
would reinforce the myth

on this earth
a new poem can still take birth!

When the day is out
we know it's one myth
we can't live without.

my woman I possess you in what way
what way I have owned you up to this day
are you just my need's flesh my hunger's food
are you only a play doll that must suit my mood!

my woman I own you in what way
what way I have dealt you up to this day
are you just my resting perch my end of day nest
are you only the banyan's shed beneath what I rest!

my woman I claim you in what perceptible way
what way I have famed you living up to this day
are you just my showcased pride on my finger a ring
are you only the need to be back home at evening!

my woman I say you are mine but how you do I own
what way I have nurtured you on you affection shown
are you just my desire's skin anchorage of my lust
what I have done to possess you your love and your trust!

everyday you pick up the hammer
you hit on the head of the nail
words surround you madly clamor
you can't make head or tail.

rarely the nail penetrates the wall
oftener it breaks by the blow
all that's hidden inside the skull
more refuse than pour out to flow.

you drive the nail's head with your might
wishing it goes all the way
miss in the wrath to hit it right
fail in what you badly need to say.

the hammer gets blunt slows your hand
you are saddened no progress is made
on the next day the same place you stand
looking at the twisted nail's head.

not of blood
not of gene
not of love
not of kin
not of need
not of trust
not of creed
not of lust
not of skin
not of class
yet so much mean
its purpose

some relations...!

Heavy chested I breathe
as the moon whitewashes the night.

The season is changing
and in the wind is the vapor of hyacinth
in the thick of which
the glowworms drink the nectar of night.

They have no philosophy and I have many
like while they dance just for the sake of life
my mind enveloped in obscurity
has shackled my feet and clipped my wings.

I wonder if the glowworms have a mind
that knows when they dance
they have an audience.

Maybe the stars know the same way
when they twinkle.

Lychee blackberry of sweetest variety*
Shouts the vendor
They look juicily nice
But when I ask the price
Find it too high.

Why them forgone
Summer’s yields live short
I lay my hand on one
They are money’s worth.

And I think of my place
In next year’s summer days
What if I vacate this space

Nothing forever stays.

Relationship is pretty weird
follows no logic no rule
link of blood is not required
nor matching of genetic pool!

The ones you have never set eyes on
living on distant lands
come to be kin of your own
you feel their touching hands!

A magic how in spatial apartness
the bond grows up intense
hearts find place in heart's recess
share each other's joys and pains!

There's no need in these relations
no deal no give and take
only the urge to vent emotions
with no collateral of heartbreak!

Carrying silence on its wings
Over the night's city
The bat moans unheard by men.

Softly it flies in hunt for food
The noise down below seems distant,
An alienating sound he never was a part of,
His flight engraved on the pale moon.

There's so little time, morning will come soon.

But the city spews up only soot
His search is despairing for a tree bearing fruit.
Oblivious life noisily flows below
Consigning the bat to a death of doom,

There's no food, and morn will come soon.

When bog water steals her wings’ day-smell
Comes the night heron to roost on the marshy night.
I have often caught her lost in the dim orb of moon
Got a whiff in the wind of her fishy smell
That says the night is not yet old
Her feathery dreams still unripe,
But like a philosopher in thought shy
The winged wonder would at my slightest hint fly
Leaving on my homebound way a trail
Till the moon reclines the night turns pale.

I wonder what thinks the night heron
In the stillness of the boggy night,
Is it her day’s catch and contentment
Or some way to carve a place in the starry firmament!

beyond the lighted city
past the festive crowd
beneath the melancholic halogen
outside the shut doors and windows
upon a lane paved with garbage
amid an air stenched with *****
between two wooden wheels
head resting on holed rexine
arms limply down from heaven
feet embracing the dirt
sleeps another night
from the ashes of day
dreaming just enough
to muscle
another
morn.

Light is out why you toss on the bed
is there a poem storming your head?
is it some ache gnawing at your heart
bubbles of thoughts are breaking for a start?

How the night passes hours you don't keep
eyes forget closing shut tight in sleep
with tears and joys you bring the newborn
hold them close so they live to see the morn.

At the nightly hunt eyes glow like hawk
preying on words defying the restive clock
your mind runs roaring maneuvers your hand
turbulent oceans, the sky and the land.

You move beyond boundaries, cities and towns
reaching up the mountains digging deep down
sailing with the drift when an oasis you find
you let the night go, blank goes your mind.

Wearily reclines the midnight moon
Stars dreamily wait to fade
The nightjars somewhere sleepily croon
My eyes slumber doesn’t invade.
I hear my bloodstream in the canals of vein
The lubdub of my doughnut from deep
Echoes of footsteps, long forgotten pain,
My eyes can’t trace a wink of sleep.
The night ages the moon seeks west
Stars yearn an end to their trek
Inside my head they still abhor rest
Run random my thoughts without break.

When at the peak voltage
streetlights **** the stars
and behind closed doors
rumbling slumbers
down the cries of the nocturne
awakes a world of opened windows.

Home from the last show
eyes colored with screen idols
shadows huddling over supper
talk of the length and worth
the plot intrigues and intricacies
the creator's whims and fantasies
while unbeknownst the night lengthens
tiring the shadows
that excavate the trash bin's bottom
for living through the morrow.

The filaments feel lonelier
as those last windows shut down
starlight wasted
on an enveloped town.

Enslaved in her dark waves
I ride the night.
In this journey in starlight
I pass by the witch flying on her broom,
Her eyes not vengeful but wear weary gloom,
For though she’s forever going away from earth
Pines for a home and hearth,
While I disintegrate into comets
Dreaming one day to find my way back to the sun.
Absurdly wondrous my night trek
In piercing moonlight towards stars.

As in the endless firmament I rush,
Sleeplessness seems no more a curse.

Nirvana was half awake
When broke into his stupor
A dove’s plaintive coo,
Still a little rattled from a dream
Where an elephant chased him,
He kept his eyes closed
To send his languor back to sleep,
But then the dove didn’t sound as plaintive
And his baggage of worries from the day gone
Tugged his eyelids against gravity,
He was so bothered that
Bestowed with one more choice
He couldn’t rejoice
In the chance to live
The simple way he could.
He got up to make himself a cup of tea
And start once more
The arduous task of finding himself!

in the trust on sports a breach
a void on the pitch
passes away a flower in full bloom

on the gentle game hangs a gloom.

Death for causing death
You can't be lenient
A cold blooded slayer
Deserves capital punishment.
He snuffed out a life
With no hint of remorse
Extinguishing his life
Remains the only recourse.
He killed one
Still in its bud
Justice must be done
It bays for his blood.
The law takes its course
To the gallows he's sent
There's is no remorse
He deserved capital punishment.
Did it happen again?
Killing of an innocent?
It was no lesson
The capital punishment!