He faked a letter to god
and slept whole night.
(Fallen in a creek from a moving train.)
Indeed, he saddled himself with luxury
of oblivion.
The success around him was most obstinate.

Pretending to condone the arthritis
of social limbs, he walked straight
to become what he would be,
a fakir among riches without fanfare. The
absolute renunciation, slapping the door –
shut, for blackness.

It was visible, the nakedness of brazen lies
falling like cottonwool around him. He touched
coral eyes of truth and wept, never to speak
again. Cosmos would split
for his journey to home.

This was meant for you, he said to himself.
Your own choosing without any regrets.
His fingers traced the figure of a mother
of the thin moon, who was assaulting
the crib of sun.

He felt very guilty
while defending himself. Being nothing
in the times, he became so dangerous
for himself that the buttons were lost for
patriarchal connectedness.
The faces had become the permanent masks.

Now what?
Flutes lie broken in bottom of the pond,
stones had committed suicide.
A window lets in darkness.
I love the pace of history walking on the back
of alligators. It does not die.

I am emptying the urn, again and again
to write poems on the flyleaves of life.
Pure pain. I am smile with tears. My
knees carrying the amputated leg. A big
throw on the trash. I am thirsty,
not hungry. My hands reach for a strip.

The art of losing the
core-hurts, standing in deepest
mood.
You want to see, what your
prefrontal cortex thinks.

The suffering: the debris
fall on the eyes.
Vast Greenland melts.
The terror strikes. You
inherit the barren land.

I start talking with the
spirits. In the shoe box, lies the
past. The water was rising
in eyes. The scent of moon
sometimes misses the earth.

The butterflies, sometimes
come, declare the deadline
for garden prayers.

It was unbashed invasion,
and then you were paraded naked.

The marrow was depressed.
I will not be able to collect you.

Lost in thoughts, I
am losing you in every book.

There was no striving,
to be called by any name, any monument.

Hyperplasia. The rot has set in
Would you come to greet the death one day?

There was a speaking ache.
Word was me, I was the tongue.

The turgid lips still remember.
Once the sting was here to take a kiss.

To be honest, there
was no poem today.
A refusal to celebrate
the loss of truth in me.

The weather is climbing.
They have assembled to-
disgorge the peace efforts.
War was in our blood.

The great divide of
guillotines and blessed swords,
to behead or not to behead
the god.

There was very little good
in the evil designs.We have
logic and logistic problems.
You do not want a friend, only enemies.

The rebellion, the treason,
the betrayals, all were meant
to upgrade your divinity.
let us revert back to animal status.

The bread, land and water are one.

Sometimes I would
look at the lame moon. For
whom you were faltering?

Perhaps, I was a
mirror. You trip, fall
and become a raw wound.

One day I will
touch you with my ragged
hands, to heal my knife.

In search of lost
memory, there was no regret
of losing any achievement.
A Buddha was ready
to walk away.

Zebra stripes become
evident at sunset.
Was there an eye in the eye,
the smell in the smell,
of an infant sea?

There will be no
ache retrieval. I am dancing
around the fire, reversing
a sin. The ugly and weird
life has become hypocrtical.

A smoke shapes your preference.

Behind the iron mask, with
unsteady hands, I
separate the conjoined thoughts
and start greening.

I will ask, the god
after a chilling spectacle
of undying freeze, that
don't give me the bliss,
but only truth.

No mercy, no sympathy.
I will walk on the spiked
road to reach you in your own
sepulcher, to become you
and suffer.

Who needs eternity
to grieve for dying lights?
Darkness has its holiness.At least
you won't see the beasts in action.

O god, let the blue sky
open like an abyss to embrace
the fallen baby.

It was not,
just a kiss of a zodiac sign.
You had become a stranger
between fight and flight.

The trick was capricious.
Albeit, a calligraphy
on a bare tree, engrafting
your name which keeps
on growing with broadening trunk.

You watch the sky
at night and start a monologue.
The stars were expanding,
filled with grief. The
despair of going back home
in dark.

I do not write about something
or anything. You will
not knock at my door.

I will be pained, if
you sweep the floor, to
tout the unwritten song.

I sing wordlessly. Even
the echo will open
the waning wounds.

My body, I give to
hawks, to escape the
elegies in the death well.

Even the night
will bring the pillow
for the dying moon.

The summer moon with
poetry and musk.
I waited full evening
to become a coherent whole.

I wanted to quit, like
a Buddha, not to come back
in the baked mud house
where the sun would not break.

The earthen lamp with
a flickering flame, under the
holy basil, wants to die
before the moonrise.

Paralysed lower limbs
will make you sit like a god
on the altar, deaf and dumb.

You don't want to learn
about the red lips of the goddess.
Moon was bleeding heavily.

Sit in a lotus position.
Sky is going to fall.

The milk run appears like
flesh trade. A bigamous
marriage with two ideologies.

The politics looks like
a fudged slogan. The silence
was broken by screams.

A dwindling faith, could
not revive the ancient Buddha.
There was no pity, no sorrow.

Activism wades on home―
turf. The colossal night
releases the lynx vision.

I am the cipher, you
said, will not connect
to any integer.

Life had tossed you in
flames.
Like hearthstone, I sit
deleting my colors.

Time on black feet
runs, on the sacred
river bank.

Molten lava will ask
when, and from where
the funeral procession will start.

A ******* wants
the evidence of ****. Two
leaves will not cover
the naked aggression.

The spooky game had
become, ultimately― the biopic. Once
angles used to roam
on the burning coals.

A repeat lover,
moon comes back
every night in different robes.

It was a question
of your conscience, when
you were being eaten alive.

Hyenas will come again-
to unearth the bones, to
give you the message.

Remaining poor was a great
bliss.You don't
need to pay for anything.

The hunger goes deep.
Fathomless.Your eyes roam
in search of a face after the hanging.
Was he smiling?

You hanker to touch
the eyes, which were burning
like coals.

Deck is empty, today: -
physics of life unfolds.

I know you less now, what
I knew you earlier.
A cloud city after the collision
had become distraught, after taking
a dip in mudslide.

With chainsaw I am cutting
myself. Why not to become a fossil
with imprints of the collapse―
of our culture and education, in
coal pits of ancient times?

The body has hardened, bones
twisted in agony, I grab the window,
to pull in the sun. Only
the eyes will shine in dark.

The caterpillar on the lawn―
in the name of god,
eating away the copper,
the blue veins of thighs.

Barefoot I come to wish
you farewell. You must stand―
in the decaying woods,
to pronounce me dead.

The auburn fawn climbs on
the podium, to mimic a birdsong.
It was sloth time. Moon was
away and it was dark.

The eagle swoops on tiny
*******, popping up from the
nest of muse. There were no
feathers and no beak left.

The mood-lifters
you will need, when
night falls and the poems
start howling.

The crisp massacre
of golden dreams, and you
start disposing off the defunct philosophy.

The myths of heaven
and hell, causing the colossal
anxiety.A dog walks past
a dead body, near the burned temple.

This is the world apart, where
you opened the book for
an eye hole.Then you **** the images.

The pebble in the pond
starts moving.No water was left
to wash the ***** idols.

Trying to quantify the vices
in you, I am becoming
brute.

Going my own way.
I join the migration
of invisibles.

A plucked tiger lily
roars. Amphibians were ready
to invade the mountain.

The curled fingers
had become question marks.
Blindness had become a bliss.

Inlaid in the redwood
lies my blood. I lived under
the branches, naked, carefree.

Do not sleep, as libido
Moon will visit
the shrine of love today.

It was an end of the―
lone journey. You recover
the path of lost poem.


A river lies buried in
my chest, unawakned.
Would you kiss the stone today?

Hunting calm, without
a ****, without a
mirage.

A momentary lapse
and you suffer
for centuries.

The pangs of separation
were rising.No birth.
You become a white mausoleum.

And the ancient
bloodshed will take care
of the pearls in your eyes.

Ask the moon
to lift the veil.Bonfires
of sharp pains have begun.

The halo around
your face quivers.I was
not a god.You were not mortal.

Moving among the glittering―
crowns, as in glaciated valley.
once again, in capital of grief.
I am folding the twilight.

The viciousness of the hisses, zooms,
once you sleep on the bed of silence.
A blue light cuts you half.
I survive on the black tongues.

The assault was imminent now.
Flat foots will invade the afterthoughts.
The incline was treacherous―
You cannot climb up, nor down.

Give me a haiku after the sun.
There was no night work left and―
I am plotting not to **** myself.
I will burn an empty bark.

I left a piece of moon on my
table and started writing about
the broken mirror. There was a time
when we used to cry together.

Dusting off the old books, uncared
for months. A rare ritual
defines the motion. It was the
temblor giving me a dustbath.

Do you know who was the leader
of the pack? The greed, the authority?
There was a bright door, between
the umbels. Would you taste the hemlock?

Every thing is in disorder. You
remember how cranky I was when
I found you unframed. Today
I will embrace the empty wall.

Something exciting
was to happen.You
call for an assayer.

Morality has failed,
running after the
false values of untruths.

Pure virginity.
I won't touch you again
for the sake of god.

Crossing the threshold
like walking on burning coals
to test the bonding.

The mankind was
always cannibalistic.
You devour the body without blood.

Zinnias were stalking.
The fading moon hangs upside down
from the massive Ficus tree.

Ultimately the grace withdraws.
Now you sit under the bo-tree
becoming a wet Buddha.

Unthinking, unblinking
falling out of thoughts,
and start supervising the barren landscape.

The dawn sets free, the white
pegions to become prey of ravens.
Would you talk about peace?

The evil touches every next door.
I will write a long letter
to me, to unwrite the sermons.

Abuzz with profanities.
There were gene faults in your
conversation; when the
ice cap was melting.

It should not have happened. The
sea was creeping in my veins.
I will hold back the floods
with my weak hands and strong roots.

The shifting sands and deep
flaws in melanoma distribution,
makes you caste away. The ultimate
lullaby will find death at the door.

Let me commute my frequency
into zero. The worst was yet to
come. I will have no fingers left to
lift your name.

Let me paint a still life.Like
your eyes- unmoving.The irises
with shut pupils.

Why I should be green-
I ask my old mentor?

The terror of a smile
wipes away the tail of dust, with comets.

And the pachyderm remains
buried in the sands of time.

Touching the margins was gone.
You cannot leap over the grass of antiquity.

In fog twin hills will move away
without any acrimony.

A denial becomes a stake
a part of the golden ring- the boundary mark.

The sleep was disturbed.
A book reads me.
The thinker will not rest in the arms
of Morpheus.

There is no road. You will
walk in the kitchen for the last supper.

A scream in the throat
dies. I have no soul. The night
looms large. I will not surrender
my pen.

Unquenchable thirst
was me. My head in a spin,
I go beyond the words,
to find the clapping hands.

I had met the flower
after a longtime.
The rose.

And its fragrance
hauls me to childhood
after the big dying.

A tender, scented dream
will touch me,
to become a poet.

Lying on dewed grass
you think, a promiscuous
microbial libido begins.

The explosion will eject
free verses, waiting in silence―
to witness― the April fall.

Annihilating your
own minarets to meet
the god once.

Little time left to make the score.

The climbdown has started
absolute and final.

The methane was
spilling out.You need a matchstick.

Awful.You cannot see
the kitchen fire.Where was
the sanctity?

A noble cause.Dousing
the flames, to leave a naked
body of truth.

Don't split the hearts.Only
give the shrouds.Faces
must not be seen

The shallow incursions
grow louder. I have
burnt my fingers, lighting
the moon.

The future of currency
was changing hands. You
start bargaining for―
the water, the air.

Armageddon: will it take
place in the modern times?
Where are the titans
and the hill?

It slows the search for
the truth. The mudslide was
rising and the buried will
not speak, at peace with themselves.

Living in a different
reality. You wanted to confuse
the honeybees. They were dying in large
numbers. There was frantic search
for the skullcaps. Power
of the crowd was on display.
The stingers were on prowl.

Again the mountain
slips. The terrain becomes pathless,
placeless. So where to sit with a mirror?
A tulip garden has arrived
for inquisition. Are you ready
to surrender your cloaks? The
public servants will make an inventory.

The day dreaming does not stop.
I wait. The best is yet to come.

Like a blood sport
you play with me.
My thumb bleeds.

Cannot be salvaged.
You are put on display
like lamb meat..

Jealousy will ultimately win.
Uncoupling has started.

The betrayal hides
under the lids.Side by side
are laid the golden chips.

Now you liberate the unbeliever.
One day the avalanche will bury the rings.

Let's not go back to the
sordid details of relative truths.
I only wanted to to prove that
I was wrong.

Knees broken, I will walk.

This was a perception defict
when only a suicide could stop you.
From where to where we
Have come in traumatized stake.
Black tongues always ruled. No
rite of passage, where money changers
speak. How will you cover yourself now?

Feminized, the dance of wolves.
Do not throw the chunks of flesh
in arena― for hubris will
bring the nemesis.

The flint makes a pledge.
When the red rains come and
overwhelm the innocent earth,
we will make the tools again.

The spirit was not there
under the skin―
in grey domain.
I will not seek any revenge on self.

The defeat was my solo passage.
I am still searching
myself in the crowd.
More than enough, I had my share of hurts.

Talking of the innocence
of a womb, when you were not
born. The steel in your hair
and empathy in your tongue.

A wandering sage will
not love the fall of night.
You see better in twilight. The
shadows give an illusion of angels.

Like wounded tiger,
going for last innings.
Like Orpheus listening
to water, without looking back.

Will not entrance you
any more, under the moonscape,
getting light from
the nightingale.

Finding the passage of
sunrise, I will wait for you
to come last time-
for a goodbye.

Trembling like aspen
leaf, to steal your aura
in moonless night, when Milky Way
will spread the diamonds.

It was revenge on you
by unknown.
You were sentenced to live before
the ashes arrive from thumb to thumb.

The onset of grief
was caliberated. I would
not live with a mad weaver
who will not heal the moral bleeds.

A line delimits the dots.
The dance will not begin tonight,
of democracy. The sparrows
were frightened. There was blood on the road.

You want to go into a long sleep.
The moon had an excuse to rise late.
The seeds will observe the silence,
before they come out of the asphalt.

Purity of thoughts,
must limit the knowledge―

collective withdrawl from
the valley of words.

Each life you had changed
the bed, to meet the god, in different attires.

Hanged from the roof
to understand the pangs of poverty.

The unborn century will wait
for the collapse of identity.

Man has gone too far carrying
the burden of acoustics.

And I will hear you
without noise,
in the yawn of night
when I will open
my wound!

Burning in the
intensity of time's blood
I will not touch
you in my dreams.

A fakir wants to leave his skin on the
rocks in sun to become
parchment, so that you can
write your name on it.

And my vacant eyes
in summer night, will search
the legend of undying
grace, in the wasteland
of life.

You call an all night truce
of all stripes in moonlight.
Only milk will flow in dark.

*

The violets had a secret to tell.
Tonight the moon will
appear red after meditation.

*

A single parent, gay, has
come to stay in line
to accept his godless defeat.

The causal effect
was the kiss of the blind spot.
I wake up every morning
smelling blood.

The space animates you,
leaving the truth outside.
An unwritten message was lost
in the watering eyes.

The aquaduct dries up. You
get the cramps of city,
after the memes of swollen eyes.
Do not open the umbrella,
sun was hiding.

Your brain becomes wired.
Someone slaps a sticker on your lips.
You cannot cry. A muffled scream,
shatters the windows of the capitol.

Was it necessary to see,
what you wanted me to see,
when I was keeping open my wound
to hear the unheard scream?
What was that which was getting in air?
A little disjointed time, asking
peace for the land
to stop the moulding on the medallions?

The divide and hate the hate and divide
the **** the **** the **** of mercy
and this was to be believed, not to believe
in the grim fate of the fall.
Pain was you was me was him
the guilt of chewing polluted words
to accept the uncertain,
the naked lies.

Blood was on shirt blood was on sheet
blood was on paper blood was in eyes.

The king
made a fun of our poverty.
Marble faced girls always thought,
wearing black scarves –
sweeping the floor of white mausoleum.

You made a death
a loving eternity.
We die daily
in the face of old shine.

Who shoots a peacock
on the tree?
I mourn for the blue peace,
let the clouds come.

Who remains unhurt
unpained, when the night calls?
I seize a moon
to enter the crack of dawn.

Don't spell the deportation.
Mind seems split-
with a maddening feel.
Do you see what I see-

the invisible lines on
my hand, piercing your heart?
Do you hear, what I
hear- the Hum, which has
made you go crazy?

Dying to unspeak, you
hide between the leaves.The
borrowers come like Crab fish,
ugly and demanding.River
bed was drying up.

Black sticks, things not
required- get piling up.In
wheelchair, you push
a crying doll.

One small step, in dark.
A silver of fear
slaps you.

You move around
to confront the past.
It was the partition of night.
Cobra white, when
eyes would not listen.

You drugged the stone
on stone,
hiss on hiss,
hair on hair.

I did not touch you
like burning coal.

My waterfalls
on red salt, bring the
largest tears of moon glittering
eerie wet.

Eons ago, it snapped.
You don't fit into the mold.
Like onion peels, I am trying
to open myself
holding the secrets.

Flawless,
you alway had to invoke
the inner god and―
forgive yourself.

With the same
left foot, always leading you
to truth. That was not now.
Your belief was going up in flames.

Who was sleeping
in your bed, ****, like the
moonbeam, when I was not there
to undemand, the eternal sleep?

Courting the dark words
picking up from beautiful life,
I weave the tapestry-
in circle of silence.

The liberty of blood
had become obsolete.
You wanted one ****, one voice,
one faith.

The acid test shoots down
the black roses.What
about the mass graves as a
signature of victory?

You cannot stop
the bloodbath.As if a swarm
of big bees was ready
to hound you.

Closing the last window
I suffer.I would
never become you.

You had tasted the
salt of a viviparous.
There was no asterisk
no bluff to cross.

Why did you turned yourself in,
when the rock was
melting? Was't it an act
of surrender, of sort?

At the end of the road―
moon was waiting for
you. Could you climb the
night for a rendezvous?

Coming of age,
you will not exit the stadium
till the **** victim is shot dead.

The vagility
was close to disaster.
Standing amid the ruins,
we were ready to break ourselves.

We had come afar
in search of the golden deer,
which we find now standing dazed
in the moon's dawn.

The dark circles under the
eyes run deep, hiding the babies
unborn, looking back at the dead,
living god.

The sick society now finds
relief in the screams of
windows, that will not allow
the sun to peep in.

The cuckoo gives
a final call.
Moon was rising.

Trivialities of the earth
be aside.My dream
is going to burst.

Golden keys in a ring,
hang down from your neck.
I am imprisoned again.

Into some intimate
moments, I will inject some
tears.My time has come.

Where the road
ends, a tall tree will wait
for your coronation.

After a little wee,
I will put the record straight
by removing your name
from the hit list.

No more, the river
bleeds, chasing the mannerism,
of falling stones on
the glass houses.

A massive selfie campaign,
overtakes the school bus,
full of wayward, tipsy
wandering kids.

The negativity
targets the blooms. Roses are
roses, they will not stop
sending their compliments.