The trauma will not go,
I will go to sea.
My lips reciting veda.

You hire the new currency
to buy a kiss of bodiless lover.
Sky offers the moon.

Infallible palm
spreads the leaves foe your
footfalls not to single
under the sun.

I speak wordlessly
you listen by eyes.

Mercy kissing comes
in vogue. You have increased
the surrender value
before the Agni.

Vespa,
the live wasp
of paper house,
feeding the insects
to little ones.

Silicon valley.
The oranges were very sweet
and carpet beetles
eating away the fabric.
I have come from a faraway place
to taste the blood-stained raisins.

Do you know why we bury
our truths? The ancient gods
were very pleased to eat them.

The hymns don't tell the lie.

I start breaking―
after the hate call.

Like emery paper,
something rubs my lips.
A raw affection bleeds.

It was only dust. I don't
want to wait for my tomorrow.

A conduit forbids
to improve the congenital
lisp of a godchild. You want
to preserve the ****** innocence.

Tears on both sides,
who will wipe off the scars
of the moon?

Not universal,
you were the cosmos,
staring into the eyes of void.

Why the naked cells of
heart- were fearing exposure
of blood pain?

The poem at midnight speaks itself
without throwing signs unto
the moon.

The night slaughter,
of beautiful dreams begins
in the hands of the
dead light.

There was no myth
of mercy. You cannot exonerate
yourself for not jumping
over the vipers.

The venom spreads
slowly, reaching the distant
thoughts which were buried
in wet eyes.

A red scarf
covers the blue lips.

Homeless, you
remained on the
wrong side of moon.

Trying to steal
yourself from light.

Now money speaks,
undoing Fabian formula.

Why one should exit
from the cabal of choosers?
Your infirmity will
sink you in wet sands.

When salvias were blooming,
you wanted to become
an accomplice of a sage.
Killing without crime.

Sometimes you fill
your life with meaningless words.
A trivia of hurting others.

For a lake feel
to find the four-leaf clover
grazing your absence.

But the road does not run.
And I cannot reach
the wicked rapture.

Where the gray sky
meets the water's shadow
every wave weeps for the moon.

Like a dragonfly skimming
the import, floats on the
dampened page of life.

You will not be able to sleep
in this full moon.
The pilgrim hawk was flying
very low.

Not fragile, I always
move forward. Theologically, I
will prove who looks behind me.

I remember you. The
morning is still dark. The dust still
covers our peers in the storm.

Rilke, how did you
find the power of will? I do not
wish to write the holocaust again.

Very scary, I admit―
your vintage―
******* with
a ghost.

Life in a crate was
creating nonpoems.
Water on the ice moon
was never there.

Unmasked you shoot a
songbird in flight.
The soft music went into
the barrel of the gun.

Come and meet my other
self. My penchant for talking
to flowers has made
me a martyr.

This was the first
evidence of altered genes.
Keeping you in abeyance, the
barbs fly from lips to lips.
It is pitch dark.
Reaching the tortuous path of climb,
unabashedly you want to say
it is over.
At the edge of hurts.
What was your pride? Very
private, very distant, thinking
to and fro, when someone wants to pull you back.
Do some questions arise?
Are you ready to talk?
The sermons, the prayers won't
help you become a subject―
to unseen god.
The delusion of being chased
begins. Truth becomes silent.
Will nihilism overtake?

The words are flying
away, enigmatically. There was a
family of god. Is the end drawing near?

Half- way you are talking
about sequences. Oceans are on fire.
A weak voice cries. I don't want to die

Who will call from the future?
The night will dance for the solar eclipse.
Don't touch me. I will not melt.

In the service of flesh
new vision was perfecting a cult;
silence was going home.

It was not there
freedom of defense for bread, but
I must pay the price of hunger.

The oblique afterthought
compelled by nocturnal infidelity
picks up the black threads,
minute by minute.
Death was very genial.

Comes silently behind the cacti -
across the intelligent green.
One has to pay for touching greatness.

The thoughts will never go
from the unwinking eyes.
I was listening to the footsteps.

Your night eats the―
umbel of light with curved lips.
What was the ethics―
of this getty image?

Your responses are weak. You
walk in, on unsteady path.
Will not lift the rock from the chest
unlike Sisyphus.

You roll down on lilacs
gnawing at my pain― nibbling
away at my poem. There
is no gender, there was no god.

The spilled milk of moon
now washes the face of night.
I become you in the embrace
of unlimited death.

Be what you are.
As night falls,
I start moon spotting
standing starkly against the pain.

Reaching for you
from you, in―
moonless night.

The relationship of
dream blood, was never
seen but heard.

The pursuit of location
where the eclipse descends like a dot
on truth.

I am going to touch
the surreal constellation
again in your wet eyes.

Come, sit beside me
holding my hand.
We will look at the moon.

Bathed in milk,
our life has signed a bond
to become history.

You will not follow-
the ****** eyes. Vision comes
in darkness, in stillness of voices.

The city sinks in creek.
Invaders had snatched the pen
from the empty hands, of lost truth.

All I need, was to
sleep beneath your eyes,
to wash the guilt of dreams, about
the falling snow on your lips.

And you were praying
with your invisible body.

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.

Inexplicable.
I run my own life, when
epicenter moves to periphery.

A drink of hemlock
from your purple― spotted eyes.
You want to squeeze the blue sky
in your chest.

Was I violating your
sanctum sanctorum, hidden
deep in crevices of ancient love?

Your voice was cracking up
hoarse, as I listened
in silence, concealing my
poem not to explode.

Wings become the tongue
flying off, like possessed
celebration of loosing
the glaze and becoming a naked mammal.

A cold-blooded laugh!

Not a single word
counts, when disintegration starts.
The catastrophe of cadavers will stop.

I want to move away now.
The tattoo on the arms is not
able to get the mercy of a Satan.

You can ****** the moon
Bee hives, shut the doors and
Helianthus will open the big eyes.

A broken step―
halts me. I move towards
you at the inner call.

Clockwise, going
sensual, you turn into
a greek fire.

Make me angry and suffer.
Don't carry the legacy
of dark peers.

Reading my poetry for
a while, you fumbled
tracing your fingers on some beautiful words.

The moon would
shine tonight to share the crocuses.
I may write your name
on scented winds.

Easy lips. Were your trying to say something? Yet
you fall on ancient adage.

Neglecting the presence of choiceless
pain, I became singular and I said
I would not allow the life
slip through my fingers.

Looking inside, beneath the rags
of awakening, makes you to rebel
against the decadent forgiveness.
Belief in dying was a reversed nightmare.

Till the arteries explode in the limbs.
A robot kindles the hope to walk
without a brain and I grieve for the
death of a nightingale in the woods.

I will knead the invisible universe,
roll it to the stone wall of conscience.
Age will undo the million dreams
behind the creative shame.

A running poem was
condemned to die. I will not change
the route. You know the art of breathing last.

Uneasy, you never returned
for confession. The fear eats away
like a virus. You belonged to me.

No strings. We are tied
by sacred words, like swans. We
are intertwined by necks to stay alive.

A weird solatium
was offered by putting
off the lights.

The animal inside you,
wants to apologise
for remaining pure.

The pastoral grief of―
a wayward priest―
comes to fore to be stared at.

Lessons inspired by
light were waiting
for the dark night.

And a tiger mauls
a hidden lecher
in the deep bush.

Again you took a wrong path
to meet the angel.
Like larkspur, you had
the dolphin's back.

Tears will not stop in the―
eyes of the moon. The
eternal itch remains. You will
not drop your smell like musk.

Like the **** salute, you
raise your right hand to bless
the crime of telling truth. Now
people listen― when you are gone.

The poesy suffers. As
also the ink. You want your
dark spots to come back. In
contrast, the sun will shine.

So normal, the poverty
makes you rich.
At the same time, you cry.

Not needed to be
adored, I was my own slave.
The long journey suffers.

The big shark makes
a dive. You fall like ginger-
bread in mouth of kismet.

Encrypting the cause―
of death. Why do you
truss up the statement?

Tell me, whom you were
punishing, accepting
the legitimacy of lies?


Anything would happen
to the author,
who was writing a diary
on the fallen saint.

The palace fumes. There
was an extraordinary delay
in execution of
fire spoons.

Silence has become
my book. I read-
from your eyes.

A wall you had
raised to unreach the
gifts of moons.

Electra complex of yore
still haunts you, walking
on blue lake.

I will sail crossing
the water barriers
scaling the heights.

There was a panic attack
igniting the stars of night
I will stand by the sky
when you rain-
in dots and lines.

When you would not be there
where I was, my fingers will twist
like questionmarks
not getting any answer.

Baby talks were increasing.
Time to leave this planet. There
was no death. We move from
breath to breath.

Sleeping without blinking,
dreamless, with hope, to
resuscitate the dawn.

Who will keep the fire
burning? You have not kept
the promise to come back.

King of stones, don't throw
the black statues in river.
Water was red and palms were
burning.

Everything I give to
you, to purge and touch the purity
of truth. Life has made me a broker.

You will never let it
happen, your unpredictable laugh
will break my invincibility.

There is no wait between
us, still we are bound to carry the
burden of an ocean of scars.

How far? How far the goodness will survive?
Born to suffer, a troubled mind
was punished, for melting down.
Livid with revenge sun bleaches
the man made God, a personal anger.
Executioner was on the street
lighting bonfires of your principles.

A silent hope revolts, like green fire,
evergreen, possessing the pride spurts
of hot flames, as the age grows,
the grieving will stop, and when the borders sleep,
it will rise on the horizon, a new moon on
a majestic innocence
of pure hills in sky!

Like a snake girl,
the black tresses trailing
behind the heels.

The wavering moon was,
gliding in blue sky,
for a rendezvous.

The beds had
become obsolete. Time to
use oneiric rocks.

Faith was no
more relevant. Now
you hear the dreams.

When my hand strokes
a flame, the white ash will kiss
me. Were you savior of darkness?

Why low morale? Moon
will never say he was supermacic.
Icons were climbing down the trees.

The other side of the
pain was an evening song. Go Greek.
Life's struggles have no ending.

It had touched, the wind
of sky.

The viola goes―
pansexual.

Purple, blue and white
dog violet,
one of the petal was
landing gear for politics.

A fugitive poet
grumbles, eating the dark words.

After suicide, the viscera
was found blank, except
the half-eaten plums.

Vicious, we are going farther
from each other to sensationalize
the sting of a rare kiss.

An algorithm makes a
new pattern to live. When you
come I like walking moss.

The white ash gives
birth to who you are. There was
only one book which broke the centuries.

A sleepwalker gives up
a snake,
inside the sleeves.
The dog outruns
the moon.

*

You draw a blue line
around the summer night.
Flames.
I will drive out
the ghosts.

*

The acid attack
went for the thatch.
You will snorkel now,
under the reeds.

To end an impasse,
I had placed a yellow rose
on your lips.

Where the world ends, my
poem starts to seal the bond.

A flock of birds flies- to reconnect
the warring factions of blue winds.
And the chemistry of river,
sings in between the two.

The green rattlesnake, falls from
the moon, stops the enmity. You are
not afraid, not nervous.

The hummers are in vogue,
flying backward. I will bring
the caped jasmine to celebrate
the truce.

You are now astute
beautiful inside. The bell
will not toll today.

Segment by segment
the secret breaks. There was
no song afterwards.

A robin hops on the dirt road.
Time was scare.
Living water was escaping.

Visibility has not changed.
I walk in great agony
without you.

The fabric was loosing
the color. The book will
never be complete.

I enter the colosseum, for
digging up the voices―
buried in the throats.

The daffodils wait in
backyard for the ceremony.
Light has come in the eyes.

Nobody was bigger than
your destination, you
were obsessed with the birth
of a new caste.

I was very angry
at me, to be myself.

We will not
meet at one dot
of separatism.

The arousal upsets
the mongrels. The wagging
starts liberally.

We will not exclude
the romance of delusion,
while interpreting the spirit
of the book.

Living by yourself
the inadequacy will
indulge in self adoration.

Where will I go?

Like for Terra,
the goddess of the earth―
I will leave everything to you.

Hot legs run,
run for the sea of shame,
to wash the holy guilts.

It was a holocaust―
stonewalling to elicit,
the number of dead bodies.

Dark circles under
your eyes. I love them―
for the sake of darkness.

Prepare the swan
song for once, the blasts
were ready to encircle me.

The swamp was in
boil. It was raining
again on the open wounds.

The scissors will
play a ***** game. You
divide the river
in right and left.

Enough was the greed
when you follow the bun.
After the surgery, no blood
was left.

I will go.
You would sing in praise
of coolness of water.
It refuses to move.

Escaped the blast, the
sparks. You can sail
in bottomless boat.

The snow mounds
have started gliding―
on the rocks like
mute swans.

I was collecting
the landmarks of my failures.
From jade to jade
and wins.

Plucking the fear
to remain alive in the
ruins of wingless dreams.

I cannot catch your
face now, in my words.
The grey hounds of dementia
would not wait.

Struggling with-
a fakir's heart, at random
fall, remembering a reverie
in quest for unstopping
in your home.

It was not a personal
guilt to modify the echoes
to let go the original voice of
the shelter.

Not believing in-
a parasol, I asked the moon,
why the sky was crying?
Walking alone in the
valley of dolls, I
assemble the broken watch
of faultless decisions.

Time was up and you sing
in honey-trap of life.

Strange, in silence, I lose
my way, my thoughts.
I will speak.

The long roots were
stronger,
than the myriad leaves.

A shadaw left
you in mid sun. No
one will follow you now.

The tree at last
enters your―
home in deep revenge.

Colored truth,
becomes a hot balloon
in denial mode.

For your own―
relevance, negativity will
not accept the defeat.

Between the stars,
anger erupts―
to reorient the gaffe.

Outrage and despair
are writ large
on the face of non-white moon.

One day in a dream,
I will ask the deity of ancient
temple, why did you father-

*

the elephantine
blunder of creating universe
to destroy it again?

*

I was also the builder
of bold world on the paper
for nightingale.

In a frame of a―
window, I watch
daily, a saddest,

star, and a palm
holding the clouds
like an Atlas.

No winds. The
bougainvillea still
drops the colored bracts―

in wait of moon―
unheeding the advice
of bright sun.

It was my grief.
And why did you start crying silently?
Do you know how honesty was killed?

Nothing was stable.
The protesters were holding back tears.
How many hangmen had come?

Grey people in black, will
come to condole the slaughter
of grass owners.

You drape me, with wet kisses
O moon.
I will not forget you
in freezing rain.

At dangerous arch,
blue-veined―
milk in milk has made me red.

The ecstasy digs out
the hidden lyric,
I would never sing.

Will you find any
questions, to defeat the―
intimacy of a ****?

A hurt here, a bruise
there, my faded shirt
covers the poems.

The fall
was imminent
on the moment of complete truth.
I was talking of annihilation
standing on scaffolding of fear.

Walking on burning coals
was a sacred commitment,
a spiritual solidarity,
with lake salt –
to lift the spirit
of sagging trees.

Of freedom of body
in camps of violence.
Without sound, I wanted to see
the creation in nothing.

Anything was happening
under the bald sky.

Frightened of ending―
what, that did not start.
I try to touch― the timeless zero.
There were no numbers.

I give you what I did,
not have. The future of gilded doors
and agonized window's past.
You offer an eternal smile.

Will I carry the red clouds
beyond your tears and
my trampled wreaths?
We talk ceaselessly ear to ear.

Your silent invite always
baffles me. This world has
always used me as stairs. Why
were you still standing on the ground?

The twinkle works. I shut
my eyes to grab you.

Like a birthmark
you will remain
on my forehead.

Round cups and
blue drinks, the dark
side was capitulating.

You become my
partner, I will unleash
many moons.

I intended to
talk in walk about the
woes of life.

A small galaxy
had been devoured. I was
watching earthworms.

Blots reached the moon.
Aborted, the last year's plan.
No starfish moves.

Scooped the dust
of ruins. Brilliant gems were
scattered by you.