Farce,
you think―
you will not come back

like Argentine
dinosaur
130,000 pounds

That was
metaphysical

There is no space sacred,
left to die

No time, cause
or substance

You can speak to me, unspeaking
without wires

There is no carrot
for the god

Sundown, the masks
come out and a game of
perfidy begins.

Words disappear. A
long pause. You will **** two
birds with one stone.
You and ultimate.

No threats. Only the
heat and flames of summer.
In a dark cave, the icicles
form a white deity.

The religion of the body
and flesh, has no god,
no prayer.

The candle burns―
without a wick, melts
into a blue lake.

A spotless white moon
was hiding the―
ink spilled on the apron.

*

The pretty nouns
scramble for hope―
if there was any.

*

You could not undo―
what a rose―
did, in broad daylight.

*

A town lives
under a tree, in shade.
The ants come and go.

Escaping the unknown
becomes easier
when you listen
to the echos of dark.


My god says, the peeled
oranges will feed the
starved moon, when you
invite the rains.

Invisible hills will send
the bronze poems to you,
once the black night starts
drinking the green water.

The nightmare looms large―
climbs up my chest to
lick the isles, throwing me in
parenthesis, failing the commas.

Unbelievability.
I am nudged to shift
the centre of gravity.

The flames are touching
both of us. A civilized frisking
to unmask the secret.

I look at the dark
sky to plant the stars.
Unreached and unreachable
were you― in the carnival.

A creepy night nods.
I must wait for your zodiac
to blink and release the
incense of dew drops.

There was no destination.
I am a surfer, will not skirt
a thunderbolt.

Blood stains will appear later.

Bliss of blue
and white, balancing
the dark.

This was my curse,
and this was my fate―
mixing the colors.

Do not go farther,
in sea, the fishes
have swallowed the sun.

The park-teachers
and path finders were
not aware of foot-faults.

The word stoppers
were abound. I have yet
to find an ear, drunk as water lily.

It was not true,
Truvia. The seed leaves
are not true leaves.

Ifs and whys were not
relevant, when
you become mute.

This country was never―
at war with itself.
The salt lake had dried up.

Two little girls hang
from a smiling tree.
Dreams are incredible.

You don't have to walk
in self-discipline
and abstention.

To transcend
the prying eyes and
rub off the naked shoulder
of moon.

2.
Would you come back
in dark to light the lamps
in my eyes?

I need no pain
to write the epitaph of
an undying poet
in jungle of wild screams.

3.

There was no beginning
no end. So from where
you will start reciting
the beautiful saga?

I don't think of your
luxury to pick up my craft
and hack me to hundred stanzas.

Your limbs tremble―
when you stand *****
to end the silence.

Nobody wants the clamor put to sleep.

It was a direct insult
of surgical ****.

When it was light, you start
covering yourself, caught in a vise.

Every dialogue was worth living.
You can only pray for the wrongs,
come to right.

A secret of tongue was
out. Ladders and snakes,
snakes and ladders, were not meant
for you.

The ambulances has always written the
letters― in reverse.

A soul-search violates
a code.You cannot
drop your mask.

A liquid pain, again
laughs from eyes.
Green was the moon.

Was your poem―
a truth? Capable
of death watch?

The squirrel hangs
down by tail, to watch
the man climbing.

You receive when
you don't ask,
celebrating the soul
with mind.

The matter, the blurred
awareness was made
of tiny faults.

The fabric breaks
in yes or no. ****** draw
the blood of million screams.

The moon catcher blights
himself. Flowers
pull up the roots. Nowhere to go.

The shadows close
the windows. You *****
in dark, searching the right
word or answer.

Don't turn your head.
Pathways are sinking.

Your face had only the
eyes, when you flew backwards,
hovering like a humming bird.

There was no absolute,
hoisting the beheaded god.
In transience I will meet you
in air and shed the body.

In mouth-hole you put
all your wisdom, to bisect the
****** house. Violence creeps into
the roses. They droop and bleed.

I will talk to burgundy-black
moon, not to leave footprints on
my face. My lips are going to
catch the stolen kisses.

Ah, this was the comfort of
defiance. You can
expunge the consonance.

You are not proving anything
except to play devious game,
with fossils. The lunacy
will hide you.

A thoughtless state comes
to exit. There is absolute stillness
in the busy bee suspended
in moonlight.

No awards. No flogging. What
you can give without seeking
any space? You cannot
eat your own progeny.

Float seamlessly in dark.
Come in my arms,
like a cloud―
like a moon.

The cult will live
on for eternity to
meet the challenger.

The objector had
the flatfoot. Will walk
overdressed.

In eerie silence―
an agile titan was going
to vilify himself.

Conscientiously I
wanted to feel you once
in my verses.

No virtue, no sin
was needed to come to
the lips of an abyss.

This command was
unpunishable.
I will not accept the defeat
from life.

You were mending the shoes,
of god. My vase had
broken. This is my burden,
I carry the body of a poem.

Waterfalls. I stand in
midstream. Throw my walking stick
in flowing stream. Will heal
the dead legs of a thought.

The belly is full of crickets.
No light. The unending muffled
trill. The pebbles fall in nightmares.
I seek the ending of blue marks.

The air fills the lungs with your prayers for me.

In moonscape, a flower
remedy, enters the white
smoke of your eyes. An open―
house shuts.

The coal writes its name on
blue skin. We were slaves of our
own deeds. I want to go back to
my ancestors, to learn the clock.

Unheard the suicide of
a viper, eating its own venom.
The fat people will come in line―
to pay homage.

White caps and black caps in
thick silence, drink the empty glasses,
cutting the meat of the books―
and reading again the sky.

Exploring yourself―
with an ornate dagger,
to find the missing link.

My integrity was at
stake. From where did―
you start?

Bring the steel from
the sea, and loneliness
from the storm.

The beige sunset
would dare to go ahead
of the red moon.

Will you threaten a
small reply? The lips were
in the state of siege.

I will meet you
one day at distant dangers.
How far you will go with me?

The animals are―
in solid fear,
of man.

Fauna was in distress,
delivering the offspring―
to unnamed creator.

Earthworms were
regrouping to start burrowing
under the mausoleums.

Stoicism would find
a new house. The mutiny had
collapsed in good weather.

Of winter and summer,
You know the discipline of
winds, when birds sing.

I do not know,
If it was a religious assault―
to meet god,
face to face―
when my poem was burning.

One tooth broken―
I cannot speak properly. But
my eyes will show my angst,
my unretrieved light
from a tunnel.

Who will find the sun, when
night was sick? And grievers
had gone to dig up a grave?

There was a meaningless pain,
in waiting. The poem was dead.

Day you are in, day you
are out. It was a beauty
to hear nothing.

Starting a crush,
on the baby face moon.
Only half-sinned
by staying quiet.

Think straight.
If you don't spell out,
you will snap―
like the fallen blue angel.

Falling in arms. Space
was small. Ars poetica―
faulted. You feel―
luggage was heavy.

For a griever, it was
a long walk. In trance a
city lifts your pyre.
You refuse to burn alive.

Calling names in sleep.

A circle,
will not become complete,
without a center.

The peripheries
cannot be defined.

Why should we
become prisoners
of small gods?

The hope―
is a gift of unknown.

Take it.

Walk warily.
You are in crisis zone.
Moon will not rise today.

*

A bare phenomenon
of shedding the
fears in dark.

*

Now you will confront
yourself
to take revenge.

*

Like nocturnal
flight of a bat, to find
the mate on plum.

*

Hangs a tale of
a squirrel, waiting
for a Buddha.

Circles under the eyes
becoming darker―
perforating the disaster
of moons.

The arcs will take a trajectory
going nowhere. Cannot reconcile with the
untouched depths of
failures.

Not enough was night―
rest, for death's pain.
Faraway the toes will meet
the pulse of glassy lake.

Defiant brows will come in
defence of the fight against tall
lies. You want to act till
the end of the play.

I do not sleep.
I do not move.
Waiting for the bell to go.

Where will you go
when you are not right,
not wrong?

And train will not stop
at your station. You
have to wait till sunrise.

Half-mist, half-moon―
and the glass houses.
The rocks refuse to fly.

The consecrated dawn
on a silent street whispers.
The city was dead.

I sleep after the naked
assault. The black shirts
and the white shirts have no answer.

Stone gods
envision the interface
between man and beast.

*

He sits with his
head sunk in knees.
Wants to become a painting.

*

A black piano
looks around for the
blind maestro.

*

He was fighting
with the shadows of ghosts
on walls.

Multiple hurts― and
you still want to live
in this dystopia.

The queue was
lengthening to catch up
with moon.

The gate man will talk
of an apocalypse.
The repeat flame, which
does not die in the presence
of sun.

The thoughts. Will they
ever stop in dark? The
moonlight gathering the ashes.

The erotica fails to
cast the net. You want to
collect the venom of desire
capping the end blues.

After a long journey
he wants to sit
under the moon.

*

Not calling home,
he wanted to cross
the religion.

*

There was no clearing―
of subterranean fears.
I have accepted the mats.

*

In boiling water
why did you jump
to save the fish?

I want to be
eloquent, with myself―
to write a poem.

*

Do you have
a clean blade
as pure as a plum?

*

Not enough
were the seeds,
for green fingers.

*

A grivever―
comes back, to undo
the guilt of others.

Talking of myths,
in dichotomy of grace―
when somebody said that
the facts were loose truths.

Your faith slumbers―
when you are awake. And
you, my door of night, will
wear the tears of dawn.

Not sharing the loneliness,
when I was dispensing the
laughs amidst the grief
of hills. The trees, the slopes
and seeds― that will never bear
the fruits.

And there, I did't want
to celebrate my unwritten epitaph
after completing the life
of falls.

And the neighborhood still
sleeps when I decide to walk away
towards the dark.

The wheels.
I decide to abandon―
the home.

*

The pain of darkness
returns. Wax
drips from a taper.

*

A sickle moon―
stirs,
my religion.

*

Deep anguish,
after the taste of
your own blood.

This was an illegal ****
between you and me.
I will abdicate―
my headstone.

The black eyes keep on staring
at the orange wings.
Butterflies presage
the quake's qualms.

Very unsettled, I was,
against the odds. I was trying
to figure out my―
new passage.

Slaughtered with a sickle,
a faith lies―
bleeding, I bring out the
cannabis for peace.

In this cruel summer,
body becomes a river―
embroiled in sun.
Gnomes tied to our
bones dragging you down. You clasp the portal
of a feral cat.
Obsession rises.
You **** the petty thoughts
discreetly.
On the edge―
comes the thrifty moon
in night. No holds barred.
In desperation, you
call all the dead stanzas.
Nobody believed in *****'s tale.
The black eyes burn
without flames.

I would not bend the
truth. A grape in mouth

will stimulate the wedge.
Night will hammer on my chest

with glossy fists. I am born
again in your muteness.

A ghost line walks with me
to pull out the delicate verse.

Everyday a tulip is delivered
in the folds of woodcraft.

At crisis of
inquiry, you search
the questions.

Life throws up a savage violence.
Bruising our psychies
we try to know each other.

At the end of the road,
we try to start a conversation.
There was a huge presence―
of some unseen force.

Much ado, looking
through each other. Would
you call me again?

Let there be a brutal
confession. I take back
my words and rewrite a poem.

News runs faster
than the sun. It is
dark already.

You have started arresting
the shadows. I was still
talking to a rose.

Let's go somewhere. Where
no war cries are heard
for a day.

How many, will you―
count the dead? Each mortal
wants to go home.

The postcards, don't
arrive from the front
anymore.

Will you take my message
by the severed head.

Sometimes the unholy fears
come obliquely―
from the scorpions.

Tongue tastes the salt of spilled
hate. You execute the hooded anxieties,
creating a cadaver pyramid.

Stich-open-stitch. Cobra
in the bush. Awesome colors of eyes
Brown-blue-green.

I am not going to kiss
the chillies. Burning hot lips.
The contours were enticing.
I shut my eyes for a weird encounter.

The floors pulverized. I still
stand in mud, on my own.

A dumb copy of me.
You were done for.
Sometimes the design goes awry.

Ptosis. You are called for―
a fall. But you refuse
to die.

You survive the clouds, the
first moon, the brown eyes.
Me before the sun.

Let us take a risqué humor.
Forget each other
and become strangers.

One intentional error.
Honey, honey, honey.
Bees ready to fly away.

The shrine of a flier.
Where it was?
I was searching the sea.

Sorcery comes handy
when you start
beheading the sunflowers.

The mountain goes bald,
qualifies for the
******. I set a bronze―

lover on the pedestal to
arrest the muffled
voices, coming from silent cries.

The grace was missing
from the artifacts, you pluck
from the freezing lips.

Stones are falling.

Millions of words.

No meaning.

I break myself
today, angry with me,
for small things.

Not able to finish
the track, I will sell now―
my dreams.

How do I turnaround,
to seek my aching legs,
for the fear of climb?

The call of the peaks,
in deep ocean,
for an asylum?

Why did it happen to
unhappen, when you were
fighting like a lynx with fate?

Hot fish
becomes topiarist.
I want to remove the scales.
Once for all.

The lesser island
holds the boat. You
become ready to rove
in dark.

Hot fish
scrambles at dawn.
Do not open the eyes.
It will go straight.

Knowing the beginning
and the end,
you stand in water.
Transparency should
come first, waiting
for your time.
A blind pursuit for a brilliant moment,
to break the black rock.
The bloodstained eyes
tell the opacity of eternal lies.
Can you melt the darkness?
The holy edge was inviting.
You want to settle
for a suicide, after the hymns.
O golden peaks
I don't want to climb the illusion.
Sun was sitting in my room.
A bluebird was
staring at me. When do I
start laughing?

You did not tell me―
what did you want?

Departure was sad,
unceremonious, escaping
an epitaph.
My legs become heavy.

Unthinkingly, you
write on the wall with foggy hands.
The silhouettes tremble.

Who will break this
infernal cycle of reincarnation?
That means, we should redefine
the death.

Nonetheless
a creed is born.

You walk on the burning coals
to pick up the poppies,
a gift of torn love.

How not to feel
the rapture of the deep
after arousal of a centotaph.

Like losing a hand,
while groping for
light.

This was the sin
of the silence, not ready
to share the pain.

Do not invade the
private domain, when
you decide to abdicate.

Dishonesty was
intact. You will not
bargain for lies.

When you love,
You make it *****.

O Earth,
today, standing on your bones
I will study my fears.

I am talking to myself
to say everything, which I don't
mean, presiding over the violence.

Bullet-ridden I
will return your sorrow
to sky, hailing the stars.

From grief to grief
I walk pigeon-toed,
to explore the mines of seed thoughts.

In summer, you
offer the naked hands to me
to write the poem of the day.

There were no regrets―
from the life to lose the game.
Tell me, how can I forget
you, when flesh was melting
from the bones?

The poetics. This was not
the world, I had dreamed.
Sinkhole. You are swallowed alive.
The script was changing.
War allows to drop the morality.

Eye shamed. For your sake.
O God, I had loved your creation.
Why it had become *****?
This was no more my property.
Take away the loaned apples.

It is the split,
the divide. I am walking
barefoot to feel the bygone dead
sacrifices.

Coming of age becomes
temporal, when
I start to speak.

It was my ancient wound―
which had come into being,
to bleed.

No mannerism,
idiosyncrasy or culture
was needed to stay dumb.

Time runs in a
narrow tunnel, to cross the enemy lines.
I will unmourn my death.

Like collecting the bluebells.
After the burial of candor,
there was no other ceremony.

The ache of taking a
call, when my
book was burning.

I scramble to warn
the bees, not to
come near the sundew.

Words hide the
sticky floor. Walk prudently
to swap the hunger strike

for bread and wine,
as the fingerprints untangle
the mystery of desires.

I will keep on
looking back, when you would
not be there.

Trying to put it behind me, the
Moon-blind dysphoria.

The riddled moments. You
are badly hurt, but
would not say.

Bare-*****, in
the oasis of flesh.

The mankind―
why were you feeling let down
by animalcules?

Into the grave milieu,
you― sleeptalking, without
voice.

Trying to rekindle the
flames from the wet eyes.

Clouds had veiled
the waning sun.
A topaz.

A blast,
becomes quite blasé at first
then becomes green.

With envy, the moon
gives no light.
My faith tumbles.

Sometimes I ask myself.
Why did you cover
your sore spots?

As a perfect pretext
of buying peace
why did you go for the lies?

O Zero man! you come
with a continuous denial,
of thirst of war,
a habit, predation.

When would you cross the blood lines?

The night blooms.
******* stars, moon
and chaste boundaries.

Nothing moves in the
stillness of voice, words.
A green light floats.

When there will be peace?

en face, I was ready to
fold the words, the sky.