Her feet dancing on the white sands
Her hairs toyed with by the breeze
Waving in joy her sea-drenched hands
Her olive skin forgot their crease.
How ageless she became under mid-noon sky
Turning feverishly playful and wild
Matching the seagull in its hunting cry
Turning once again into a child!
Not someone’s mother somebody’s wife
A pretty little girl she was once again
Unshackled from a mundane life
Gushing out like a revived fountain!
I didn’t want these magical moments to rush
Became a part of her romantic whims
Found once more a long forgotten crush
Dreamt lost yet timeless dreams!

Her dark silhouette moved beyond the grilled window
Was she a living woman, an apparition, or a shadow?

In the evening sitting there her head bowed low
I loved to think of her a ghost on the window.

That house from ours was within a stone’s throw
At that time looked remote now only I know.

Her hands they always moved what she was up to
Was she knitting corpses’ shroud I had little clue.

Don’t look at her, mom would say, stay away from her
Her words ran me down the window didn’t seem far.

Quickly I shut my eyes there was no way I could dare
To ignore mom’s caution and had her in my stare.

I went back to my homework not that I much willed
But lessons had to be learnt pages had to be filled.

I heard ghosts could pass through wall anyplace they could be
What if she had stopped her work and come looking for me?

I sat frozen in benumbed fear my courage they all fled
For courage would be of no use when dealing with the dead.

I wasn’t safe alone cried out 'mom' to find her I frightfully ran
*Passed by the house the grilled window but there wasn’t a woman.

A low monotone ‘snip snip snip'
Drooping heads as in slumber deep
The mirrors reflect telling it all
The shedded strands quietly fall.

Goes on the buzz ‘snip snip snip'
Are they awake or in deep sleep?
Getting off-loaded here's no hike
Lines of souls sit vampire-like.

No one speaks it's nobody's call
Heads mildly roll, tissues fall
Shrouded white from world disguised
The snipper's spells have them hypnotized.

The stupor breaks once ends the ride
A cruel world is waiting outside
The spell was so short, it's a pity
Time again for reality!

he's a much sobered man
when he's drunk

words then flow with elan
he's a jolly hunk.

he's a much sweeter pal
tipsy when he is

nice and warmly liberal
he puts you at ease.

does it so smooth
each inspiring peg

no more uncouth
he's no more a dreg.

when drunk he's at his best
never was a kind sweeter man

unburdened of his heavy breast
he kisses long ignored woman.

when boozed he's passionate no doubt
the hidden emotions are in spate

his heart freely speaks out
opens his secret's floodgate.

next morn he can't just recall
why stands an empty goblet

he lies in smell of alcohol
worries aren't light on his chest.

Don't ever get down at Remount Road
on the train's brief pause.

Once I couldn't resist
when through the window
I can't say what beckoned me.

The sky after a drizzle was awashed blue
and its miniature carvings on the puddles
sprung from my steps like thousand dreams.

There on the unshaded platform
were faces as puzzled as mine.

I didn't intend to detrain here, I spoke,
we didn't too, the voices echoed
but it felt so like the place
we wanted to be but missed.

Walk me barefoot on the sodden earth,
a girl offered her hand,
recount to me the unfinished stories,
make me a home.

I won't miss this time,
I was crying.

I have recounted the story to many
but they all have eyed me
like I am mad.

They only repeat there's no Remount Road
on this route.

I met that man in a coastal town
over his face beards flowed wild
his eyes they knew only to look down
his years didn’t count he was a child!

He smelled of bile feces and phlegm
his skin was a thick layer of tar
from his **** hung loose his shame
they said he was a castaway who came from far!

Sun and rain found him a barren rock
a sculpture that birds could err to perch
standing unmindful of the passing flock
as if he was lost in a deep search!

He just stood there holding his ground
eyes cast down on the paved road
none had heard him utter a sound
muttered neath breath even one word!

To the townsfolk he was a statue on the square
that losing his way hovered on the brink
but I had a feel within him somewhere
was a man looking for a long lost link!

The path winded through the jungle their tread was cautious slow
Walk they must still a long way till the sun goes down below
They carried with them precious merchandise monies earned from trade
What dangers lay on their way what would befall them they were afraid.

They walked ceaseless in worried face their words broke the silence
The shadows lengthened it bothered them still long was the distance
As luck would have it there came along a retinue of tradesmen
They too were heading the same way carrying with them trade's gain.

Thank god we have met you for we carry with us good treasure
The way is not safe we have heard dangers lurk in immense measure
We would be secure if we travelled together in large number's strength
For our wealth we must safe keep till we reach the journey's length.

As was proposed so was done they befriended and resumed their way
Warmly chatting sharing anecdotes not knowing when passed the day
When came evening they halted at a place set up camps there  for the night
Unburdened themselves for rest and gossip enveloped in glow of moonlight.

They discussed business profits bargains the many losses and gains in deals
Smoking hookahs chewing betel leaves passing time till served their meals
When dinner was over they sat together shrouded in smoke and night's song
Basking in friendship not once doubting tomorrow would never come along.

Behind each man sat another one a silent sign game was on play
Eyes roamed on eyes death in disguise waited to fall on its prey
Then came one call ominous and small a voice said let's take break
In one clean swift sweep fastened handkerchiefs strangled the unaware necks.

In less than a minute stopped each heartbeat with such precision was it made
Bodies lay still the hunters got their **** without much struggle and bloodshed.
They buried each corpse leaving no trace the two groups became one
In the name of Kali they had used the noose got the ***** for a job well done.

From the day his mother died
He had no time to mourn.
From the very next morn
The same robe he had to adorn
Same wares he sold door to door,
Forgetting mother is no more!

Up the tree high up from ground
the stubborn lover makes a metallic sound
if from the foliage can reach his voice
a mate finds out makes him her choice.

The summer noon is deep lonesome
hot winds blow in somber hum
'neath gray sky he strums in wait
a soulful beat in search of mate.

She seems so close yet never too nigh
his breast breathes out sigh on sigh
Spring is gone soon will come rain
yet finds no soul to dispel his pain.

He doesn't give up calling from morn
if comes his way a heart lovelorn
I too want he gets his mate
the stubborn lover coppersmith barbet.

The leaking tap dripped all night
Tip tip tip
Sleep took a flight
Dream couldn’t reap!

First thing next morn
A plumber I must call
How I scorn
The ******* tap its nightlong fall!

Poor tap has a mind of its own
******* at men’s free will
Left in dripping groan
Its pain who can feel!

Yet it doesn’t bend
Will fill the bucket
When the plumber will mend
Valve and socket!

From pieces of woodsticks
the tea seller makes a fire
in the night of summer,
people sip tea
as they merrily
talk politics.*

When rises the first star of night
day flickers out in the earthen lamp
shadows dance in the oil's light
finds toil's pause a resting camp.

Wispy smokes fly from the kettle spout
outside the long night awaits day
sip the lips elixir of thirsty mouth
claypot's brew finds anew demons to slay.

Fires fly as fireflies dance around
stars find the earth below glowing hot
words dry empty minds dims sound
eyes crave for escape to dream's cot.

The last cup winds up the day's cash
marks the night skylight in cricket clocks
weary hands beneath a tree throw the ash
time to count gathered amount in the tinbox.

Night then devours light's last post
his feet walk the soil of his years' trail
this lonesome hour he loves the most
when his wishes with the winds to the heavens sail.

Tell the loved ones, how much you love them,
waste no time, and it's no shame
because if silence, steals your word
it may be lost, and never be heard.

Don't defer it, to another day
what you feel, immediately say
we don't know tomorrow, what's in fate
it's too far away, it'll be too late.

If you willed, know it to be true
it's easy to say, I love you
when you hesitate, high will be the cost
chances postponed, are chances lost.

When they are with you, it's such a boon
to have the loved ones, so tell them soon
before time snatches away, you or them
with your love unuttered, heart unspoken.

Amid the rustles of leaves,
he strains his ears
to hear the footsteps
gone before him.
Through the web of mist
that rises from under his feet,
his eyes probe intensely
for the trail of the traveller
he walked with yesterday.
The jungle stiffly silent
hides the secret deep within
veiling it in dark shrubs.
The man feels a smoke
rise in his eyes,
‘where is the traveller,
who just the day before,
walked with me? ’
His questions
more like wailings
rend the unresponding wind.
Before him as far as the eyes go
stretches the unending path.
He begins the search once again
not knowing
the next traveller is on his trail.

Blessed are the poets
who read more and write less!

burn up nights in passion's flame
breathe in breathe out every poem
hours rewarded in busy ingest
no repenting on forsaken rest
a drift a wind a stormy rush
din of mirth a grievous hush
won't forgo once embark
heart's vent in light or dark
like a mission promise to keep
wake they up in a world asleep
read and read till the seeds are sown
in heart sprouts up own poem full grown!

Blessed be their tribe
for them the poemdom thrives!

I knew there was a turn
but it never turned up
and I kept walking straight
in search of it.

The road was familiar
the turn was on the left
in every known way
yet in the broad daylight
it left me.

I know you wouldn't believe it
neither did I
as alike a puzzled wayfarer
I kept on looking for the turn.

It happened to me.
P'raps it happens in other lives too,
the turn always there
keeps eluding.

Then when found,
it's no longer needed.

Time stands still on the twig.

The sky keeps changing colors,
Blue, dark, ivory, violet -
She grows old, I turn feeble,
Ego, enmity, jealousy fade,
Our stories dry up to the end!

The twig remains there,
Braving rain, bad weather,
Doesn't break, doesn't complain,
Endures mutely the passing of pain,
Standing robust under the changing sky,
Reshaped landscape, agony's cry,
With no wars to fight, no belief to defend,
Just there to see us reach the dead end!

It showed on their face.

The rides were fun
but they were breathless.

From the cable car
the sky seemed not that far
and to the wind it was unfair
to have two men without much hair.

Rain had brought color to soft eyes
huddling and cuddling at free wills
but sought shelter these two guys
from the teen lovers' merry squeals.

They rushed to be in time for the first row
childishly enthralled by the 3D show
dipping the whole of their emotion
in the history of origin and evolution.

The day had been too soon done
when in the melted afternoon sun
the two forgot all the worries
in the romance of rediscoveries.

I want to erase that ugly line.
It’s not seen but it’s there
Between you and me
Day and night
Deep down
Eating
Thru
Us!
You
And I
Created
And allowed
That line to grow
And build between us
A rift that makes us enemies
Drifting away as two islands!

The ugly is no face no color no skin
It you won’t find on surface
The ugly also known as bad’s worse twin
May hide beneath a pretty face.
None is born ugly but later convert
Lured by power and greed
Ugly is ugly from meanness of heart
A shameless and self centred creed.
Bad for this world that it usually rules
Dominates politics and governance
Both bad and good are to ugly easy fools
Victims of ugly’s pretense.
The clan of ugly raises its head
To shed blood and wage wars
When ugly reigns the good falls dead
Struck by its satanic curse.
The bad is one that lives on threshold
Can go with either on ride
Deviant of good its soul isn’t sold
If wants can switch to good’s side.
Bad isn’t as bad as ugly can be
It has quite a few streaks of good
It still has the choice to make itself free
And be as good as it could.
The good is surely of the three the only wise
That serves without craving for glory
Makes for us this earth a paradise
Hardly finds a place in history.

The king says with a long grim face
My wealth brings me no happiness
With all the courtesans around my throne
There’s no fulfillment and I feel all alone.
My courtiers have only good words for me
I know they’re not genuine but mere flattery
They smile at my smiles and frown if I frown
They wouldn’t have cared a fig but for my crown.
You may not know but my crown feels so heavy
With the curses of my people for the taxes I levy
They suffer to see me in wealth and affluence
The king’s might make them bear it in silence.
You may envy me for all my treasure trove
Not knowing how much I pine for little love
Crave for freedom and life’s little pleasures
That cannot be bought with all my treasures.

The air smelt of doom
Mystery hung in the room
No one was allowed to leave
Right on the job was Mr. Steve.
One by one they were called
He had them mauled
With questions often uncouth
But he had to get to the truth.
The smart as well as the shy
Had something for alibi
The tall and lean Mr. Brown
Said he was out of town
Ms. Percival said she wasn’t there
Had gone out to see a theater
Mr. Hubbard was stubbornly quiet
His face pale and ashen white
Ms. Christie who leant on a crutch
Was talking irrelevant too much.
Each one of them denied having heard
Any sound that could take them off guard
Tim the butler slept through the night
Janice heard nothing after putting out the light.
Mr. Steve fumed as his vexation grew
Knowing for sure not all said was true
The ****** has been committed by one of them
Who could it be in this hide-and-seek game?
Was the offence committed for material gain?
Who could benefit from these men and women?
Or could it be, more ghastly and strange,
The ****** was done as an act of revenge?
He couldn’t find flaws with any of alibi
There was no evidence to nail down the lie
He found it unsolvable, and that irked Mr. Steve
His reputation was at stake as a great detective.

It was tough job going home from the evening shift
he would keep coming back before taking the lift
stand gazing intently at the office noticeboard
umpteenth time reading the roster word by word!

Not sure he had seen it right would find someone out
tell him please see my morrow's shift to dispel his own doubt
I want to be doubly sure haven't missed out something, mate,
please do me this favor I'll give you one cigarette.

Knowing him well that man would say for you can find it out
but one *** is not enough to clear all your doubt
will tell you the morrow's shift surely dear mate
only if at the canteen give me the treat of one omelette.

After the deal was fully done would end this funny affair
convinced of next day's schedule he would come downstairs
the night already was quietly deep with not a soul on the road
it had taken him quite some time to decipher the noticeboard!

When came the tram splitting the night below a crescent moon
he would raise his hand but strangely wouldn't board it soon
till someone would drag him in much against his will
knowing he would be stranded if he missed the last vehicle.

The dogs' bark welcomed him home as he reached its door
the neighborhood was in slumber known by buzzing snore
but then told him his riddled mind he certainly couldn't tell
if at all this was his home and he should ring the bell!

As he stood quite confused with the minutes growing more
light footsteps were heard inside a woman opened the door
he asked her if a man of his name was residing in that house
it's no time for such madness would pull him in his spouse!

He was ready when they came to take him
stepped out to the day as in a dream
and with a face unmourningly serene
entered the waiting palanquin!

How quickly passed his seventy years
he felt having spent not a year even
now on a ride on the bearers’ shoulders
his lips moved in prayer to heaven!

His heart was not weighed with grief
but a resignation deep and tranquil
there comes a day one has to leave
preordained by kind God’s will!

That way he had wanted it to be
when death came to knock on the door
would hear him say I am ready
won’t keep you waiting a moment more.

Through the hush when rang last bell
and to the wind his breath was free
echoed through the mourners’ wail
the untamed refrain *I am ready.

she speaks of hills
from times passed behind

of cloud capped tops
and snow capped peaks

can't we go back once
where wind stole my stole
and you chased down the wind

clouds dipped to see me blush
as you wrapped my heart warm

can we go back once

the yaks may still be grazing
time may still be standing

by chance.

When the city gallops
Uncomprehendingly fast in his slowness
Wearying his blood wrinkling his face

He watches it go by at the bus stop.

No bus stops here anymore
Get in get out then closed door
But the shade homes wayfarer’s wait
If one sits broods on fate.

Contemplates mind how they’re redundant
Left and right all movers’ want
Sunset mellows in the time brewed find
The redeeming way is the one left behind.

The city races in a maddening buzz
The wayfarer only needs to trudge
Back to the road now sunk in dust
Retracing footsteps of love and trust!

I could be anything the way I wish
A bowlful of food an empty dish
A blade of grass or a redwood tree
But I want to be the way you want me.

I could be anyone the way I wish
Furrowed forehead or smiles that please
A heart rigid or a mind that’s free
But I want to be the way you want me.

I could be a face covered with veil
A man of dogma or with free will
Kissing wind or a stinging bee
But I want to be the way you want me.

I could be the man I thought I must
Winner in suspicion loser in trust
A narrow stream or the boundless sea
But I want to be the way you want me.

There’s no love sated
In one man, one woman
It flows unabated
For endless span!

In life she had seven husbands
But love with her is buried where her tomb stands
Many more might have come to her life
The lady she’s known as *the seven husband’s wife.

Empty would seem her heart’s treasure trove
If she had stuck to merely one love
So when tired she banished one for good
Found herself another as her soul’s food.

She searched love towards that end made attempt
But after a while grew familiarity’s contempt
Love is no water that can be held in one jerrycan
When one man was exhausted was time for another man.

Often she fell for them drawn by their exterior
Only to find afterwards their inferiority to her
All their sweet talks were hollow in every bit
Impossible was to endure their annoying habit.

Yet she didn’t cease her search for love true sublime
To bond in a relationship that would stand the test of time
But that she never found remained empty her treasure trove
She passed from one man to the other not found real love.

The seven men that failed her in love she ended their term
For they unbeknownst to them had caused her fatal harm
By not fulfilling her cherished goal not being loving husband
*Leaving her with no choice but with their blood to smear her hand!

When need to be with myself
sets in a lonely mood
mind seeks a space to delve
sink in solitude

I slip to that unused room
where a window to the north
paints a sky of white lily bloom
for dreams to merrily birth!

I fly above the town house tops
up the tallest palm
reach the clouds to touch raindrops
drown in deep calm

whiles pass mind travels eon
far beyond the earth
till lands back to anchor on
the window to the north!

The house seemed to live on its own
In the silence of a monster waiting prey
Skin peeled off mossed abandoned
In a gloom quite untouched by the day!

It was the house standing last in the lane
Hidden in its dark ominous nook
Locked in closed door windowpane
Holding secret of a never opened book!

Not one sign of some life did it show
Bar a glassed shadow in the candlelight
Flickering for a while and then go
Like a passing phantom of the night!

Never go anywhere near that door
Cautioned us the elders in childhood
It was said weren’t seen anymore
Those ventured had disappeared for good!

We found in that lane a peaceful space
For a winter afternoon’s cricket match
Bowling and batting in low pace
When the ball was in air shouting catch!

It happened one day jumped the fence
A bounce took the ball past the wall
The children were worried and tense
Who would go to fetch it make a call!

None was ready to give the door a knock
Having heard about the house its weirdness
What would reveal once the **** was unlocked
Peeped from it the most macabre face!

They left as I stood there alone
With terror creeping to my core
When the wood creaked with a groan
Stood a woman on the opened door!

On her face shone a smile’s beaming star
As she held out the ball for my reach
While I wondered what made them call her
A ***** and child slaying witch!

as i turned at the bend
the house showed up

at the gate she stood
smiling at me
her hair fell down on her back
black slightly curled
perfumed oil fragrant
which when she raised her hand to comb
revealed her navel
that like every other day
lusted me to grab her
press her onto me
coalesce
till i would not know
the part that was she
the part that was me.

the house stands freshly painted
there's a woman at the gate
but she is not her.

i sniff the wind for her fragrance.

twenty years is a long time
but why my lust still seeks her

why these hands burn
to grab her just once

do the time we leave behind
and the space
immortal?

The woman I romanticize.
Her abode is not in my mind
She has no place in my heart
Her face is not in my eyes
Her frame is not in my dream.
Who is she then?
Where I found her?
When I met her?
Where is she?
You know it as do I.
She isn’t someplace
She isn’t someone
She isn’t part
She isn’t full
She isn’t love
She isn’t passion
She isn’t dead
She isn’t alive
She’s one I made
In my bid to survive!

I haven't seen her in years.

Maybe she's still there
when the tide rises
foraging in the river
dreaming in half moon
they meet their fate
floating into her net.

With the tide ebbing
maybe she's still hugging the shore
praying for a little more
till the stars blink weary
waiting for her to go home.

Is she still there
her skin smeared with mud
stalking like a night heron
silhouetted against the skylight
her feet kissing the riverbed
her bed lonely and cold.

I wonder why for me
she's so mysterious
a predator in the river
a foresaker of life
for the life of her
brewing a love
deeper than I've ever known.

In my eye's river
she's still there.

Age cannot catch up with her.

Will you help?

Or you need the world only for yourself!

Then you needn't heed the warning bells,
Sparrows are vanishing, so are squirrels,
Water hens and coucals are almost gone
But you don't need them you wannabe alone.
It's such a small thing disappearance of a bird
Tiger is vanishing, not far is leopard,
It doesn't matter let your tribe grow
Let them perish the thylacine and dodo.
You can live alone so what for the howl,
You need no drongo no nightjar no owl,
Rhinos are butchered, gorillas only a few
Not the wild ***** must survive is you.
You must alone rule with tooth and claw
Let them all go the eagles and macaw
The otter, the cheetah and the polar bear
You needn't think till they're there.

Then when they go it'll be too late
To know on their survival depends your fate
Even the smallest one lends you their help
But you needed the world only for yourself.

They went to see the King.

The King’s resplendent robe
they all glorified

but in hushed whispers were heard

There’s no robe
The King is naked

but nagged them doubts
surely their eyes were lying
or the royal attire was too fine
for naked eyes

what they saw
shouldn’t be seen.

It's then a child
before the King boldly stood
and upon his face said

*You are ****.

There’s a mirror
I tend to ignore
rarely stand before it

so little surprise
it’s through other eyes
I get mostly noticed!

They see on the face
creases of stress
shadow or twinkling light

on its marks read
contentment need
glowing day despair’s night!

They watch all the while
ways I smile
countenance sunshine or cloud

if my gaits grieve
stooping submissive
or walks are arrogantly proud!

I hardly see myself
it’s only their help
let me find how I may look

but unlike the mirror
those eyes make error
in reading the write on face book!

When I say I’m scared, know I’m speaking of ghost
Freaky flimsy phantoms my fears love to host
In the lonely nights, as I lie in the dark
These spooky souls, on me disembark
Move in my room in the weirdest possible forms
Stoke my fear’s fire raise eerie whisper’s storms
Gather around my bed with ghastly glowing eyes
They aren’t eyes of ghosts but burning fireflies
They stink of rotten flesh, I smell in them my doom
Of all places on earth, why they love my room?

Two innocent eyes look up at me
Blue pleading watery eyes
I catch that moment on my cellphone
Before long they would be gone!

Come back cute fluff
I croon in each dark corner
Come back milk bright fur
Come back silk smooth caress
You can’t have gone too far!

Crescent moon hides you in shadow
Covers you the pale ashen star
Come back not wrench my heart
You can’t have gone too far!

Why the ones I love don’t stay long
Like you I carry on my cellphone
A few tunes and part composed song
Hushed into dusty yellow tone!

Why I can’t hold them back
The ones I love disappear at dawn
Go hide in the moon’s shadow
Leaving me bruised forlorn!

When I'm stuck in a poem
Do I come out wounded or healed
Are my emptiness deeper or filled
Do I smile or feel a lump
Or in that wondrous bump
I jump in the joy of crying
And cry in the joy of knowing.

You have so much to tell
And upon you when I dwell
I'm changed and evolved
The exchanges lifting me up
Adding eyes to my eyes
You take me through sunset and sunrise.

If I'm eager to listen I learn
You give my life a new turn
Each poet is a unique book
Transforms me, my outlook
The young makes me grownup
The old makes me a child..

Such is the magic of poetry!

I'm grateful you took me in
Gave my life a new meaning
Gave your shoulders to cry
Offered your heart to dry.

Life has a short span
But I'll be here and hear you
As long as I can.

A young man from Spain
Fell in a cold dark drain
When asked, “Are you Mad?”
Said, “No, I’m insane.”
This young man from Spain
From the fall in considerable pain
Attracted a large queue
But him none did rescue.
In his fall he saw no gain
This injured guy from Spain
He exclaimed “Oh, what surprise,
I’m showered with only advice!”
Many suspected his brain
Asked if he was or wasn’t in pain
It really was suspect which side was sane
The ones gathered or the man from Spain!
“How funny” said the men and women
“Surely your eyes were not open”
Some said, “It’s simple and plain,
The fellow is plain insane.”
They said, “You should have been more alert
More cautious and certainly more smart
They all agreed the men and women
He should not have been in the drain.
The unfortunate man from Spain
Wondered what’s the bargain?
Though pain made him blue
Why was nobody coming to his rescue?
They left the poor man to his fate
Expressing anguish and regret
We never knew which side was insane
The crowd that gathered or the man from Spain!

The fire crackles as it feasts on his flesh
burning all layers of skin
soon it will crunch the bones ablaze
gobble up the soul within!

When alive his mind was a mess
dreams only fulfilled his wish
now in the searing hot furnace
finds peace in disintegrated piece!

Thirty minutes in this solitary chamber
and he will come out to lie in an urn
from dust to dust each part dismembered
to be beyond all care and concern!

Soon his ashes will kiss the riverbed
for him is marked no other fate
will live the words vented his head
the man the thinker the poet?

When destiny threw them together
for thirty minutes

they heard each other's heartbeats

thirty minutes together
they were pair

he preened her feather
she spread her bare

don't love me
I'll soon go away
he said broken voice

this thirty minutes together
I'll cherish forever
in her voice rejoice

and end of time
they went their way

you love don't mean

you would forever stay.

They don't see it in any different way
it's for the like of them another day
another day to sun in the chill
another day without a square meal.

Then when comes the unfriendly night
the cold bares fangs hounds for a bite
a roofed mirage underneath warmth born
to live it out till comes another morn.

If you break your run in reflective pause
and feel inside a stir to act a Santa Claus
weigh yourself high in the scale of spirit
enlarge your hands so they hold enough gift.

Enough may not seem for the kind of your ilk
but enough for them a crumb a saucer of milk
look into their eyes the night is no more cool
you have warmed it made their hearts thankful.

give me a break
from the seas rough
I greed a bellyache
badly need to laugh!

for too long weathered
a stormy bumpy ride
I need a breather
bare a guffaw wide!

give me a break
give me a break
life is burdened enough

give me a break
not give a heartache
I badly need to laugh!

been too long bowed down
with the pangs of grief
needs himself this clown
a laugh’s relief!

long buzzed this head
with the groans of pain
this heart has bled
time and again!

*give me a break
give me a break
life is burdened enough

give me a break
not give a heartache
I badly need to laugh!

On this first day of September
as I look up at the rainwashed sky
with cheerily flying grey white storks
I grow fonder of belonging.

This is the place I call mine
where in the autumnal shine
open all doors
and the wind whispers

All is yours
yours

this is your place
forever and no less

all of today
and tomorrow

for you made
yours in essence.

This September day
insignificant becomes transience!

There's no happiness this side
The river is without a tide
The soil unfertile for seed
Here grows nothing but ****.

Behold the river's other side
Soil is rich so is tide
Spreads out mile after mile
Lands rich and fertile.

I wish I were on that side
This is not the place to reside
There I could get good harvest
There I could build a happy nest.

The man on the river's other side
Finds his river without tide
Finds everything there vile
The land barren unfertile!

I long

for a belief

that would keep me

strong.