The name. You were my
flesh, my bones. Forgive
me for this moment. I am
burning all my belongings.

Looking at small things,
weather beaten. I have
come back to pay my
indelible debt.

Darkness was always there.
Who am I to light the candles
in storm to glorify the thoughts―
the shrine of past sins?

Ichthyotic. I am peeling
off the skin, the dirt― the stains.
Want to stand naked, firm, rigid
and ***** in my aloneness.

It was time to climb blood totem.

Waging a war
for peace. Rage of
silence abates.

The heart of a flame
has an earthiness. It will
bear a smokeless slight.

There was a terror
link. You could not handle
the trick.

Come to the fore now
and place the honesty,
on the back burner.

I will not speak
between life and death
going from light to dark.

I was the shadow,
and I was the moon.

Do not live like dead.
The minarets were trembling
without a dust storm.

*

Will the man change one day?
Your fair skin turns brown in sun
after burning the book.

*

Stars move sometimes
to understand the weird landscape
of the squirming earth.

Can you define this relationship?

In a tumultuous city
I was missing…
But in this absence I become whole.
A chemical clock becomes awry.

Night was my poem
I was writing for the moon
and throwing a handful of dust
to meet the dust.

Black flamingo will not
eat tonight. Wading through the
water, its will broken,
searching the pink eyes.

How do I catch you when
you have flown away?

Light a candle. It burns
white in a black stormless garden
******* the anger of water.

What do you do with
my poems? Where will the libido
go? Something has been left behind?

Ah, my friend, what is
relationship in a millennium ?Was it
a song to a lone nightingale?

This was not physical.
Which part of your psyche,
I would touch?

Sometimes you swing
without a rope. A chasm
appears, then vanishes.

Blindfolded you open
a death door to see the fall.
The deep pain bifurcates.

The distance was increasing
between clouds. A crack
of light burns the dark. Animals
awake.

You remember a yawn
of cosmos. Someone becomes a fever,
high as sun, in earthen heart.

Purpura, I will breath in you,
the purple-pink flowers of
foxflove, when you collapse.

Clairvoyance. I can see
through you beyond the fog,
in the darkest night.

This was the primitive pain.
My pampering has given
you a taste of surrender.

Like an unborn poem
you swim on my tongue
to find the shores.

I want to lower the―
guard and dance with the roving death.

Ah, the passion flower.
You will not mind, if I
embrace your beautiful sunset.

The moment of truth has―
arrived. The earth
has moved the man. It was
accidental verdict. You know,
which cell you will be incarceated now?

My flame-singed eyes, search
the inception of integrity above board.
I am afraid of myself to
admit that societal violence
has come to stay!

Celebrating the birthday of
a self-propelled god, I go
into irreversible retreat. God
bless the wax house, fire was
raging on hills.

The blood cherries, blood on
your shirt, blood rings on your
fingers, and blood in my eyes.

Time
was the great avenger.
It takes you away
into war,
with swan words.

My baby poem
cries. Lost in a crowd of swindlers.
Not finding the home of truth.

Was it a rarified
phenomenon, that it was
a dark nebula,
that gave birth to the sun?

Are you free to
agree with me, with my existence?

The conclusion was
beyond the judgment of insane people.

Are you going to harm yourself
by accepting the fireball questions?

This was the rise of animal
after dividing
the pain of man.

The shared past―
would guide the misreading,
calling bloodbath a mistake.

Balancing the pole, walking
on long rope, in sheer
darkness of moonless night.

The words fall on your
feet, begging the exoneration
from name-calling.

Square meals and two lipped
lavenders, will bring the aroma
to wipe out nonexistence.

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.

You are living on
your own, to find me. I was
in between the lines. Was it a misophonia?

To make a temple for
each other to give a farewell. Will give a
relief when the pillars will stand forever?

Who will touch my poverty.
An invisibility gives a resilience
for a love song in reverse undying pain.

Like a dwarf planet,
you follow me in distant
sky, so near― so far.

I love you like poet
Pablo Neruda. My eyes in―
your dreams, wide open.

When the tears would wait
to bloom like hidden flowers―
under the steady rocks.

Not me, not you, were
aware of the rising moon,
between snow and sleet.

Returning to the ragpicker
like a lone fly
of love triangle, said― were you
writing a letter to confess your love?

Like a glue sniffer, I
am stuck with you.
O brown earth, raw
wounds heal …

When I sing a blade
of grass, when I sit
under moon, holding your
hills for comfort.

My head nestling on
your heaving breast, while
I sleep without―
a dream.

It was devastating to eat
you. Your cauldron, bubbling.
Someone wants to pay
back your sun, your moon.

Dressed to assassinate,
not having much hope.
Were you really―
serious for me?

Like en face
a star giggles, between
quivering small moons.

The night is drunk. You
hear a long hoot, from
enfant terrible, to scare away
the kiss of inevitable.

What a bliss to live
in the black heart of the moment,
when the sun unwraps
the flame.

Complete annihilation
of million desires. You
become the walking death
of unknown.

Fear of ars poetica
overtakes the unwritten
poem. An anguish will
gather the wild thoughts.

From autumn to
the spring, I took to you
like a scream at the sunset.

I didn't omit you
elliptically ever. The moon
was your watchman,
I tended to slip.

Take a walk with me-
like the shadow. Sometimes
I feel very lonely. Needed
an alter ego to share my angst.

The Zen has invaded my roots.

Like toothache.
Would hear the voices
of dark.

No beginning, no end.
I will not conclude.
Like the setting sun in west
dying beautifully―
without moon.

It is a chilling confession.
No offending. Trying to
understand unmoving lips.

In my suffering
there was no faith healing.
I won't ask your hand.

Every syntax, regenerates
the truth of the ***** mind.

Living amidst the
dangers of orthopedic blunders
you cannot walk straight.

The queen has gone insane.

How would you describe
the stampede, when there was
no crowd sourcing?

You can draw a perfect
square. If I lose and you gain a miss.

You cannot win a war
without coitus.

The life and death
of a jinx was there to see.

The sun will have a moon―
moment in dark.

Who was building the pain
of emptiness, when
I am filled with grief?

Why did you want
to become mine,
when god was not there?

This sun, this moon,
these stars. My Miranda,
my nightingale.

An Atman floats
without a body. Can you
touch it with lips only?

Like potter's wheel
starting, you want to create
a body with words,
not hands.

Then why did you follow
me, watching me to take
the ash-bath, becoming
sinless?

Tears runs faster
than blood.

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.

A mentalist does not feel
secure, when you start
jaywalking in the empty street.

What was the need to
rescue a predator, when
the river was dry?

The ducks were crossing
the road. Stay put, till
the kids want to make a halt.

It was a renaissance
connection, when a clan is
sentenced to speak softly.

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.

This age of depression―
Do you hear―
the unheard sounds?

I always bleed―
in the books. Some words
won't stay for the sake of propriety.

Nothing is held back,
not even modesty. The biggest
savagery, of being a human.

And a flock of ravens will
go on hungry,
not feeding on debased carrion.

The baby moon will
not smile. History has
cheated us out of the truth.

The heat, noises and
dust. Every face was covered
in soot. I cannot recognize myself.

In fluid state
my words will catch you
one day.

Almost mortal,
a goddess visits the dream
and wears your face.

Not trying to
reach anywhere to get a
new name in writing
you a poem.

Would you ever
mean to die for a cause
when the trigger finger
didn't pull?

When you don't mean
something, I had become
a thing.

Beyond the time
there was an endless bliss.
Will you care for me?

Can you heal my
insomnia? Raise the bar
and eat your words.

You have stopped
singing. Take me moon I
am getting very hot.

Why people are dying
without blood? Someone
was sending the message?

Let's go to search
ourselves, in our bewilderment,
to defeat each other.

In our home, what
was this game of the
infinite mystiques?

I will ask the blind
moon, are you
a futureless theme? Validating sun?

A hallucination effect
ensues after choking the
missives. The reject it was.

My dream becomes
a volcanic glass, crying
for a mother's hug.

I was losing the Midas
touch. Clay was shrinking away.

Inheriting the unending wars
of human beings.

Between blue and black
the moon peaks in harsh winter.
Are you in the emergence stage?

Give me the sacred
water. I want to salute the eternal
beauty. I was an observer.

The butterflies dance.
to celebrate earth's marriage.
Ganges invites all the followers.

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.

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.

Sexist barbs against
wooden *******, street-smart.
I am something not, I am. A wall
of tears. Liquid nicotine, I will not declare
myself, creating a poem in different ways.

Waywarding, protégé digs the gullies―
becoming unfaithful to himself. The
hope, will it be extinguished? The
tall mud slide, a devastating statement
burying you, me, everyone.

A black beetle, collecting carcasses,
to feed the young. It is on the rise,
green sea. I cannot see myself bleed,
by the grasshoppers. It is like
committing suicide solo.

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.

Leave your seminal
expression with minimal
damage.I am excluding the
human race.
Your chin protrudes
when you think aloud.
Were you becoming-
a unique animal in haste?

The man has the
erectile ego as that of
gastropod mollusk.You will
never cross the Atlantic chasm.

You always wear
a slippery shell externally,
when your thoughts are born.
God save this earth.

Soundlessly steps move, in
midmoon― deleting trust.
Now I am the time.

You left your guitar
on the moving sands of beach.
Waves pick up the song.

Watching a seagull―
wolfing out from eye socket,
of a sinking fish.

A gift from a barbie
doll of tanned skin in nun's garb.
Please stand in hot sun.

It was the ascent of
lies. The truth wants to say goodbye,
for empathetically in dignity.

You wear the stars in
darkness and sleep with the moon
on the cacti in the desert of love.

The cosmos permits
to be devoured to make a new
godism and genera and species.

I didn't want it any more.
In pain footprints, I will
not replace your gift
for any blood money.

The angelic profile
had no deadly option,
only to dip into your eyes water.

The moon
fell for the thief, who
stole away the smile of purple lips.

What else was your
dream, when god made it
to your house for begging pardon?

Hunting in the clouds
a poem was searching a
beautiful title.

Why did you come in the way?

The brown dust―
floats, while reading
poetry.

It was my first―
love with the dancing words
in the jungle of departures.

The genocide of―
reliefs. I ***** a shrine
for the slaughter of unknown.

Innocently, I utter―
your name in dark, that
lights up the aubade.

Strange things happen.
I stand where the roads don't cross
parting the emptiness.

The deadpan. Another city falls.

On the run,
was a bon viveur―
in amber thoughts.

I start unknowing you―
O invisible. A curse
will follow if you make me
a god.

I plead, standing
on the rubble, I will not learn
to live without the muse.

Sometimes you disappear
unshorn, in the rain forest―
of stunning phrases.

I hold,
the existence of a ghost.
Undying for the sake of
forced acceptance.

That was the art of inevitability.

Poetry stares, unblinkingly,
in dilemma―
at mindless extremism.
Evolution of words,
was going retrograde.

Your pretty face―
needs dusting. I was
curious to know about the story
of night shifts.

Sometimes I am hit―
by your feline grace to go for
immolation of male chauvinism.

You ***** the barriers,
so that I won't
reach your lips. The moon
went laughing whole night.

A slow poison, like
hemlock, you drink the hurts
to stay alive in a wax house.

The art of faking
will not come to me.

Your breadth
twists the moon, making
a dent on the face
of lookalike.

Becoming a stranger,
celebrating love― without
my arms of flames.

An old story repeats.
Beautiful but trembling,
the farewell handshake.

Neither comes
nor goes, the vase life
of withering roses.

The sculpture
was not yet ready.
The angel recapitulates.

In a pinch of light,
waiting it to happen―
becoming me.

You, my crush―
floundering in fever
of the moon.

I track you down
in the tears
of earthquake, when
snow was trembling.

Thin needles in eyes―,
I retrieve the―
history of fallen
god.

A survivor would
rise from the rubble
to reconstruct the shrine.

Misreading―
the time zone, clock
refuses to rewind.

The brain shuts,
absenting the self.
No seeing no hearing.

The street,
resuscitates you.
Train whistles to take you away.

What home?
There was no destination.
You will not reach anywhere.

When I was laughing,
I lost my poems. After the iron grip of
venom and fangs there was revelation.

Are you a good listener?
Great poets are on the return. My
thumb prints the key to open the mausoleum.

Will you see the truth
of ****** of a prayer and the questioner
comes to know the flowing blood.

You will not define
Hubris, walking on the
velvety rugs of ancient beliefs.

Living in my poems,
made for cherry blossoms.

In spite of half
sins, mounds of rose petals
of every color were strewn
on the way, to reach
the drunken gods.

There was no point
of vindication for making
water tainted green when glaciers
were burning red.

Delta,
the fourth letter of
Greek alphabet, has lost
its shape. The rivers
have stopped flowing to seas.

Asking for privacy, a
green snake becomes deviant,
and turns lunatic.

Lunacy demands innovation―
like atavism, returning
to primitiveness.

The fear becomes
your enemy. Instinct develops
to ****, to slay.

Again a beheading, you
wash your hands
with the blood of a god.

And dedicate your
life to a goddess of bodypiercing
crime, soaring high.

Not superficial,
real inside,
something was ruined.
Tonight I will walk out in dark
beyond me.

Creased,
under tyranny of love,
wanted to unwrite the script
in the stampede of sins.

Impeachment
throws up the shock syndrome.
No wish to swim back.
Drowning, clutching my truth.

A mystic paradox?
Million faces of yes or no.
Wrinkles are getting larger.

Again I have come back
in the crowd of fakes,
to understand the nature
of dark.

The questions have become
my beacons, I am prodding deep
to stumble on the temper,
ethos of white lies.

You will not take your own
life now. We will stop grieving for
the sunken ferry. Who allowed
the novice, third mate to steer the ship?

Do you know, where the country
was going? The swords had
become a junk shop. Tongues stale,
the language foul.

So we will go for a collective hara-kiri?

In war you plowed
the love, synchronising the fall
and rise of rare victory.

Between us, a river
flows of marigolds. But blood spreads.
Can we find the solution of darkness?

Waiting for the next wave.
The drums are coming near. I am
asking about god, not you.

You suffer, nothing
comes to your mind. Like you are fondling
your wounds lying in a tomb.

I will not steal your
face after the disaster of losing faith
in the religion of power.

I will not stop kissing
the red flames of bargain. The tears
will decide, no mausoleum will be made.

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.

Brutal poem. But you
want to touch it. It severes off your thumb.
You climb the rainbow to see a ****.

Will it go beyond the
kisses of a cobra? Walk slowly in peace.
The panthers wait for the fall.

This is April Fugitive
trees have started unloading. The
forest goes in flames. I am counting rocks.