Would you live without your
shell, one day? A chasm
was growing between us. I
was feeling very aloof.

Intruding on your private
grief, sometimes I will
see the blue veins ascending
the marbeled thighs.

Beehive and death, sets
us apart. Beyond the age
a sun sinks in crimson glory.
To bring peace on the spikes of grass.

The dreams were disappearing.
The house sits knee deep
in thoughts. I will be collecting the
knobs fallen from the doors.

Call me avenger,
after the punch line had-
damaged the hidden ghost.

I want you to
let me go now after the sunset.
My odyssey has not ended.

You are not
what you were, once
upon a time.

The seven colors
are wearing the dark dresses.
Trading has become the hallmark
of light.Let me write my name
without alphabets.

The echoes come back
to pick the mundane sounds.
The celestial music will not be played again.

Nothing has ever happened
to me. I meet my road
daily in wilderness―

tasting salt.

The lake was frozen.
Surfing was not possible.
I was walking as if on cotton grass.

You think I have become a hope
in dark?

Sitting in the sun
preparing the relic, for
future visitation.

The geranium bleeds
for the god particle, which
always eludes
the man.

A tiger would sleep
in my bed, jettisoning
the fish of your eyes.

The glass eye breaks,
enters the tomb of the orb
sheltering the darkness.

There was no clear answer―
from the mask, as if why
the tryst with stars failed.

When you stand still
in unbearable agony, the unquiet
dark starts settling
around me.

Why this crisscrossing of
ill-bred beliefs and credences?
Hacking of the circinate thoughts?
After the rolled up,
tip of pain lies in the center.

The dead leaves,
noises of the past-are gathering up
with ugly exhibits.

As origami, you fold it
and put it back
in ice box.There was no need
to decorate the death's crown.

Eyes half-shut
will not see the moon rise.

When you stand still
in unbearable agony, the unquiet
dark starts settling
around me.

Why this crisscrossing of
ill-bred beliefs and credences?
Hacking of the circinate thoughts?
After the rolled up,
tip of pain lies in the center.

The dead leaves,
noises of the past-are gathering up
with ugly exhibits.

As origami, you fold it
and put it back
in ice box.There was no need
to decorate the death's crown.

Eyes half-shut
will not see the moon rise.

The cult moves in
circle. Stargazing
starts. You lie buried in
wet retreat. Eyes protruding

The veil sends a sweet death.

The death. Only you would
know, what was the conversation
between the repentant
and priest.

Superfluous. To beautify
the grimace. The lips―
always cheat.

A black cloud devours the moon.

Cupping the water in hand,
you feel the nativity―
near the mute swans.

The silence of a bird, explodes
before it flies.
The hands flutter in excitement.

You take a cipher to
measure the infinity. Figures
become drones. One of the
suspect throws a bomb.

The quietness of sea, when
you start drinking the mist.
I will discover the beauty of death.

The words will reach,
when you would not listen.

Awakened
at the partition.
Left bleeding, the spider silk
had started weaving
the web.

I am trying to understand,
the sign language,
your tears.

You have to become
transparent.I have not
crossed the river yet.

Words not weapons
were needed to heal after
the cannibalism.

This world will
spare us in night.
Trajectory of moon
was changed.

He has been spoken off.

Sometimes I feel,
it is time to go.

Sun is preparing to depart.
After sometime moon will arrive.

You want to stop writing
and shut the book. Enough.
All things said, world will go on its way.

You change the clothes,
alter the ***,
exchange the god,
and refuse to die.

Nothing, but the ***** game survives.

I like to rage on with
flying snakes. The fog deepens.
You skid on the ice of the bridge
after the freezing rain. Infidelity
becomes the pick of the day. I
look at my Goldie, the pug,
sitting on the step. Waiting for me
like a meditating Buddha, eyes
half-closed.

Let me see your hands. Your
bones are becoming frail, twisted.
You cannot lift the book, hold
the pen. When you write, your hands
start trembling, as if you are
being watched, to write your last
will or ready to jump in the river.

Life had been very cruel.
When you said, you are a dervish,
the hyenas started laughing.

You tell me in no
ambiguity to hold on the solitude.
Life was overrating the return
of a prodigal saint.

In wet distance
would you plant the seeds
of spiritual lockup?

Was it not two timing?
Riding on the waves
and starting roots music?

Shot in the back
of head, you wanted to die quickly
being sincere towards life.

Self-abandonment,
it were you, which was, for
what it was not.

I am counting the tongues
of flames, licking
the acid burned virtues.

It was not the worth
of a cloud,
your garden, sitting
on the lake.

Refresh drops, in the
dry eyes of the rope, which was
wounding around your neck
like a snake.

You want to become
a blue god now, on
opioids. A living ruin, attracting
the tourists.

The terrible change,
we are dragging our dead body
under the shadow of
the toes.

You had left me reeling
under the bluebells,
like a trembling leaf, like wheels
in human conflict.

Trying to learn the democracy
of honeybees, like the
cohesiveness of fireants,

Handcuffed, staying in
solitary confinement, hitting at
the walls. Chipping away
the ungrateful.

The triage will leave me
unattended. The road...
do you think, it will be visible?

The stars will listen,
night will not.

O pathfinder,
you wanted to leave unsung.
One day I will track down your footmarks.

Last night I understood
the unholy drowning of the truth,
before the priests of innocent surrender.

Jealousy was the secret of
downfall.You can use the parenthesis now
to defend the corporate
blunders.

Politics has become a
grammar to cheat the morphology
of gospels.

Do not go like naked truth
in the crowd.I wanted back
my eyebaths to see clearly.

The gap between the lips
was widening..

Put a candle under
the rose bush.
I am going to draw blood
from the moon.

See my body has become
a boat and you are the sea.
I am an opus Dei
and you are my deity.

We mist and we rain
on our frailties. The drama
unfolds, when we grieve
for the butterflies.

Who was taller than
our sins? Like pixies
falling from the skies.

Unstable like a mercury
drop, when you hold
a pen, hiding your
icy thoughts.

Like an archer, ready
to abandon the bow, without
shooting at the target.

The bull's eye was a
blue rose, sitting in the dark
niche, afraid of light.

In synesthesia, of
nights assault, you fume
and sizzle, when the dew
drops hit you.

You will not give the name
of slayer, who killed you with a smile.

I want to shake them off,
the weird thoughts,
like a swarm of bees,
buzzing, whining, aimed at nothing.
Want to write me off?

Loneliness.I
observe the hands of a watch,
looks like they are not moving.
Time stands still.
Waits for me to move.

An atavistic ache.Again I view the world.
Everybody is making a sound without bending.
With dreams dead, I step into emptiness,
barefoot, to feel the earth.

Not going to quit,
free to **** my ghost,
I move into sunlight.

Genus Viola.
Which gender you want it
to belong?
***** was most effeminate.

The tender touch.
It reaches you inside. You
start trembling
like aspen, ready to fall.

Full breasted, a
crimson moon will spill
the buttermilk for
a rosarian.

It was hot, very hot
for the quivering pearls of pistons;
for merciless decapitation.

Snakebitten
you raise your hand:
not to strike back,
but to salute the pain.

Weaving the aurora of stainless performance
of inevitable.

Not going to change my path.

Gazing through years,
the fog, the hurts.

You were flame-born
in strong winds.
Father of woods,
the hunger was very faithful.

Night melts into tears
day sums up the pain.
A fear stalks the flute,
and darkness falls on the drapes.
I was a lake
and I was the sun.

I held you on to my breast.
Give me your fangs
and give me your venom.
I was blue and I am the death.

Centuries of wounds
and million of scars.
Silence of sky
and lull in the clouds.
I am the fire
and I am the gale.

Less of charity
was needed, when you sleep
till dawn.

The spirit of the tree
comes down to
wake up the sage.

It spills the light
for a troubled window
cracked by hail.

A drenched house
of words
becomes pale, page by page.

I do not know
how to tell the story
of two bats which flew without wings.

Is raining. Since night.
You have no claim on
dry lips. Wry stance. The
city walks slowly. Wasted
faces. You want to ****
the words, the profanities.
Want to unwrap the knife.

I don't need any flowers.
Always making faces. Too
Many boats in the sea of eyes.
Rowing, arowing. I am
Afraid. The fast currents. And
then my shirt becomes stained.
***** words.

You reach the bottom. The
terrible depth. Digging up
my body. Even my hands
become shovels. Slowly
I erase my name on the sand.
The sea has divided us.

A streak of sin was
always there, when I looked
at you in brief encounters.

Cathartic.
I would not kiss the
eyes of a viper.

The giver was insane.
A bane of togetherness.You
were getting pheromones all the time.

Parenting was difficult.
Now as the holy month starts.
You were always near the moon.

In golden sunset,
I will prepare my elegy.
The flames were always green.

With the relapse of grief,
drums sounded loud.

A city burns.
The child carries the father
on his head.

The museum of skulls.
Nudes had blue veins
and scars on thighs.

The names were inherited.
Gettysburg water
refuses to mend the bones.

Ah, daisies are throwing
up the seeds in despair.
Civilization has come very far.

Progeny of death
were searching the mother
of all sins.

Pupil was on parole.
You abandon the inexhaustible
patience with increasing distance.
Everything was fading
when you look back.

The things, always return.
Like you did not carry a bundle
of postcards written
by your father, while emptying
the house.
His carved signature is still
printed in my brain.

Now my grand daughter saves
the e mails sent by me. The woes
of a pilgrim. A neutral passage
with no feel. Some day a glitch
will wipe out the treasure.

We have changed the costumes.
The inside has raw palisades.

What happens when
you stop thinking?
Reaching near the god
or becoming a stone?

It was not enough even,
when you go in coma.
A shrine of dazzling failures.

The animosity, the politics
of violence.I cannot remain
untouched.Wounds would
never heal.

All fever.I am not alive.
of the marvels of religion.
I ask you to go away.This
Friday another Christ will die.

Becoming whole.Was it
possible today amidst the
unbecoming of human beings?

Becoming fiercly personal
with no physical contact,
the crescent moon
ultimately occults the Venus.

The grazer now turns into
fugitive. Was not the knower,
was not the known.

No past, no future, you
move with your eyes down
to deny the assault, the flirtation.

Your silence was
unthinkable. I will bring home
the dead. Light is gone. The
slapper sleeps.

In emotional agony I
start prowling for the body.

The shades of dawn
under the waning moon
reflect on your face.

The lace trembles―
when you watch the Venus
disrobing in dark.

Confession made.
You wash your feet in
Milky Way.

Let it go, do not touch it.
You had been negating the bare truth.
I was part of you
once at the shore of tragedy.
Life was treacherous
and I was free to laugh.

Come September and I will be chasing
the fireflies again.

How time takes revenge
from the innocent commitments?
You start returning to your roots
and I was still surfeiting
on the secret fidelity.

Where was the need to be tied down
to god? Nobody was honest to forsake
the fear of nameless nemesis.

The myth of rock still haunts.
Water still boils under the clay.
Petals fly in dark alleys
and I cannot find the door.

Oh, templed god, why did
you snare the palmer?

The importance of being
the autonomous? I am trying to
stay away from me to keep
a watch on you.

The itinerant sorcerer had
become a legate of gold trade.

The flesh is for sale, the
small mouth with big hunger.

A fledging of scar has become
a bleed. The synopsis was out.

I am going to ask some question
from the bo tree today.

You can legitimate
the loot. There will be no
spineless resistance.

The skull cap only covers
the baldness hiding
the keratinized skin.

The lust shines
like pearls on your upper lip.
Beehive.

Poking the rabbit
before it jumps, you will
remember the ducks have no ears.

Ah, the learned
professor, he has started
teaching the full lips.

This was profanity.
A dead club moss resurrects,
when you sprinkle the water over
dried wrinkled leaves.

From darkness to light
you break the bowl of an angel
and the invisible spills out.

Brother in terror -
of mixed turbans.You smell
the burning flesh all around.

Speed of light from superflares
was not colossal, than the blast of man.
Look, it is still dark here..

Now climb the holy
hills, rising like the *******
of weeping earth, to collect
the daisies for final call.

The dark borders
were shifting, rejecting
the inner voices.

The echoes bring apocalypse
with costs. I hear
the silent prayers.

de jure? I want
to letter the unknown fears
of the epilogue.

The whistling pain of the
words, brings
the blood flowers.

Aghast, at the cupidity,
of man, where shall
I start the charity?

You collect
the crowd and it will
change the truth.

Have you seen it coming? The
sounds?
The kiss of greed?

Are you going to climb the rope
in air?
A magic of collecting the coins
to become the richest man.

Irregular beats
will stop the band.
The vision falters and you let me go.

The burning bush
will take you.

Bigotry, is that you with
the lost numbers?

Looking back, will not
light the road.

I could not haul myself
out, of the kitchen, of narrative.

Something makes me jittery,
counting my failures. You revert back
to the caravan.

After the love. The lines
burn and you set aside the goal―

of becoming free from writing off
the man.

You become absent in
repose..I try to rein in the
subterfuge in stranger's eyes.
There was nothingness. A chestnut
tree was refusing to let go
the nuts.

The phantom fight begins between the
daffodils. The sun had given
the borders, step by step, to
different colors. Still the bloom
weeps for its blindness. I will
not unmake me. The faith―

this winter was bad. The
deathmarks were evident. We
wait for something to happen,
ready to unroll the schizophrenia.

Less likely to be a truth,
let's celebrate the healing touch
of a hidden god.

It was an absolute
invasion, but I did't believe
in any war.

Timeless quest for the-
elixir of life and enigmatic
divinity.Answers were
always fragile.

I want none of your books.
In humbling pride I will
find my own solution.
Life was a question.

No birthdays.
Rolling thoughts- need
no sermons.

The snow:
Pounding the earth, trees
the man.
Centuries of hunger repeat the
raven's walk on icefield.

The drum beats again.
The cold war tapping
at your doors. Missiles made
ready to fly.

The rhyme comes back to
weave the funeral song.
Blood curdles, as you step up
the agony.

The stings, the venoms,
the blue veins. The murderers
were ready to―
receive the gifts.

Your thin white skin spreads
on the front. The blue
veins have become the strings,
annexing my peninsula.

You had said, it was a
bit of stretch, to cover the
lies of a fading sun,
for a delayed penitence.

Living water will bring clouds
to fill in the lakes of grief.
One day the lilies will grow―
meet in the air, for sombody's sake.

The black moon was still
raw. All the weeds had
become snakes. I start
hating this season of mating.

Watching the charred remains
of the toys
you want me to search for another house.
Eventually I decide
to go for a voiceless door.

Who was calling whom?
Eternity hurts me.
I want to come to a stop,
pause for the evening
and climb up the hearse.

A howl is waiting for me
to engulf me in myself.
The blind statement will sit as a judge
and decide the fate of the key.
I cannot open the lock!

I don’t belong to me,
to you, to her, to him.
Who are you, I ask myself
again falling in love for a tender shoot,
uncoiling under the debris of unfaithful corners?

I was watching a small birdie
hopping against a mirror, cracking the beak
to **** a rival.

She was pulling at my arm
white death in red scarf.

This is for you my fellow-traveller,
a beautiful sector of my hidden garden,
where I have permitted you to come for a walk.
Hand in hand we will watch the peerless evening –
sitting on the wings of gulls.
Will you like to break a promise
before I implode on the moon?

You light the earthen lamp daily under a tree,
to possess me, trap me, digest me. Voicelessly
I melt into smoke, fly away in small huffs.

It was a basic instinct.
You wanted to become something-
on unstable legs, hijacking my dreams
for treason.

Like an amputee-
you were hobbling around
to find the door of gold
in the jungle of twists and breaches.

Only a fathom depth
you need to hide your cadaver
of past sins.

Scattering your seeds in vain
all-night, the dawn was away,
still waiting on the wings of tomorrow.

The mourners with their quivering
lips cannot sing an elegy.

In a pair, they were flying:
two monarch butterflies.
Hither, thither―
Fluttering in synchronized wings.

There was a Stark effect
in silhouette. The fever rises
in the bush. Someone streaks
in the street after moon
Let us stop the mouths―
to remain open. A missile flies
above your head aimed
for the burial ground.

A nascent star screams.
There was yellow blood
on your hands. You had
squeezed the young fruits.

Why are you packing up for final journey?
I am not getting the signals from the stars
through the amnesia. The moon will rise
on the desolate landscape of broken dreams
A shudder gives away. You always pursued incompleteness.

So the striving continues, for wholeness,
without sitting in meditation, remaining restless,
churning, agitating, creating comets on the lips,
touching the tulips, red roses, scented air,
traveling all alone through the black memories.

Talking to yourself in emptiness, wading in the
green eternity to find pure, unblemished truth,
the secret of eternal youth. Which fear had
perverted my vision? Why should I be afraid
of meeting you in me? Cannot I maintain my.

Integrity? The wheels are moving and your
gifts are lying unclaimed. Where do we meet?
No temple is safe. A foreign land where the
clouds bleed and sun unloosens the threat,
I will seek to close the circle.

I believe, I had not arrived
when you were arbitrating
between naked steel and the truth.
Violence were you. I was watching
the burning pyres in a row. Small hands
were collecting the ashes,
casting glances on the falcons.

Why reincarnation of the reaper again and again
arching the helpless life in terror?
Half-filled cups of tears are spilled
on the marbled smoke.
We made the truce with slaughter
in moonlight pitying the survivors in sun.
The face watching from the window disappears.

An auburn dawn wakes with swollen eyes.
I might find a lost child of the empty womb –
wandering in wilderness of three dimensional sorrow.
O mother! somewhere the roots are waiting!

After the sunset,
the moon comes out whitewashed.
An extremist flies a hawk.

The bird's meet was
disbanded. There was no
mandate to decide the fate
of eggs.

I cannot think. After the
arrest of an anarchist the cauldron
was left to boil.
The bones start melting.

Step out from the dark.
The blind men were protesting
in the street against the sun.

It is a small world.
You meet me again and again.

No final goodbye. No poetic
apology. No introduction
to a frightening joke of
a blue Buddha.

The neonates were blind.
There was no alternative, except
to wish them luck. I wanted
to leave my pangs with razor points.

Morality and hunted crimes.
It was a shadow boxing
in cryptobiosis. A bleak day
invites no more clouds.

You talk to the solitary moon.
The silence enters the reeds.
A whistling wakes up the night.
Death goes for a walk.

Wages
of alienation
were increasing.
We were afraid
of reflections.

Shifting
of landscapes
will hurt the river.
I was blinded
by blues.

Relationship
becomes a speech
impediment,
bonds start
breaking.

I wanted
to call your name –
in solitude.
The echo
reaches the whole sky.

The valley holds on, to ******
of moon, behind the trees.
It is dark and clouds are meditating.

You think of a perfect horror
and a poisoned arrow flies straight
into heart of a blissful sun.

It is red, splattered on the wounded sky,
scrorched by shrill cries of crows.
It is dawn.

You feel intense ******* of separateness,
from the beauty of a drop,
reflecting the wholeness of an ocean.

The stress starts breaking you.
Can you take me to my home, into abeyance?
My wakefulness, reaching by silence?