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.

Blue black, the red sun
breaks into your eyes. I go crazy
running after doves.

The lake goes on fire
I collect the shells. Luxury
of becoming poor.

Carpenter will do his
job now. Declines to sit,
carves a goddess.

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.

Walk like me
on burning coals.
You will taste a moon.

A misty link
of inner planet, flaunts
the projectile, going straight
for the sun.

So you believe in
incredible rebirth of darkness
after full moon?

No standoff of this kind
will continue, if the
nightingale returns unveiled.

Infantile ache
spurs again the honeysuckle.
It was red sky after
the sunset.

Pray not crunch
with muffled scream.
There was a rose without thorns.

An unborn poem wants
a name to make a poet of me
to discover the black truths.

To lacerate, the moon was
running shirtless. Why was there
devastation of culture. religion and morality?

What was the merit of
karma? You were digging the farm land
to bring out all the grave sins.

Trying to solve the puzzles
of life. Is it not you morphed cloud of
lips in fusion of love and stings?

The heart of a fig tree says
it with flowers. Why did you look back?
Would you like to sleep under the stones?

Invent a truth like a lie.
Critique will give the jdgement. Why
the moon will confess a ******.

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.

A candle burns in the
eyes. It is my quivering poem. A broken
sun. Will give you a gift of the moon.

Covered with flames. You
will become a comet. Ice, rocks, dust and
the water. You will weep without tears.

Are you everything? Blue
berries are blooming. I converse with
flowers of wilting roses.

He wants to revert
back to mutism.
No thyme―
no secrecy.

The half-baked pursuit
of non-violence,
accepting the violence,
on other way round.

The otherness.
You want to identify yourself
with a new religion.
Terror of anonymity?

A night blooming cereus
wanted to avoid the sun.
And love, must you
play desert?

Twitching will not stop
after you hit the bull's-eye.
Somewhere a nightbird,
had a hallucination, moon was
scared to come out.

The game we play all
the time. Tracing blue nudes
on the beds. A gang ****
went unnoticed by the
diehards.

A sphinx was rising in
east. What you have done
to stall the riddle of winged monster
sailing like hawk moth,
drinking your honey?

We are going back.
Let it be.
I will never know―
when will you arrive.

In the aloneness,
going blind to the playing
light, you prepare to drink
the darkness of noon.

Becoming dishonest will
not be possible for me.
The times are revengeful,
come back in black to fix the smiles.

Like water hyacinth, the
disquieting worries will grab
you and hound you to the white bones
and turn away.

Where the blood and
nerves went down? It was
no sin to rise and
stand against the sun.

ShareShare Grafting The Lichens

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.

You are not me.
It was not gentle,
it was not sweet.
It was fire in the glass.

One yellow rose was opening up
in a very bright night.
I was shivering
under the leafless shade of hawthorn.

One surrogate mother
picks up the wormholes.
One tendril oscillates
to entwine the lover.

Stealthily, the sad moon slides
into the big ***** of clouds.
My eyes now search,
the bared, Venus fly-trap.

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.

You have to spell it out.
Where the sun sets
in shifting sands?
Picking up the heart rocks―
I was learning to
walk away from undying.
Who would confuse the
infinite falls. There was no conclusion.
Again you come howling,
waiting for the snowmelt from
the face.
The lips become the stones.
You will not count the peaks.
Overnight, it has
turned grey, my red moon.
I will take hold of the night.
There was no referral
of lying truth.

It should not have happened.
But it has. For a god
of dreams, there was
no paradise.

You had become an alien
to your body. Split scenarios.
A fight going on―
between two selves.

Every morn, a shock comes,
a revelation pops up. You
fall, a victim of civil war―
in surprise.

The headlights on, you
were driving straight into
the bright sun to burn
your wings.

Don't speak the truth―
loudly. Bipeds
are listening.

I will not blame
any one ever,
for my poems.

I must invoke
Buddha, if he
was an avatar.

Rage again for
the dying sun. Night
was very cruel.

It was defenceless,
the death of dreams. Why god
has lifted the sorrow of pain in eyes.

Open your inkpot, the
tears pay the price to purchase
the inner mercy after tasting venom.

Do you think I
possess everything. I want
to become Sisiphus with empty hands.

The truth has no language.
It communicates with God only.
Destiny builds the daydreams only.

The last word of the pain
wins the Milky Way. You were afraid
of eating granates. Not the parrots.

How would you carry
the brain dead love? Legally end
has come. But the heart is still beating.

You can listen to words
laced with meaningless truths.
I will draw your profile in blue.

It comes devastatingly.
The marriage of mind and heart
in democracy of flesh and bones.

People don't love peace.
The excitement comes from wars
between fingers and necks.

Selene, the goddess of
the moon, promises―
not to fall in love.

Putting on hold―
the shrine, the statue,
going for sale.

No epilogue was
needed, at the end
of play; it starts again.

The painter was dead,
before completing the art
of defying the end.

Walking in ruins
for love of poetry, you
wanted the feel of the beginning.

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.

Butchers were in panic.
The bulls are coming.

Dandelions were
in strike mode.
The Ebola dream
was competing.

Nobody there
sleeps in open.
The stink of dying
poems overwhelms.

Please make a
self-potrait like
Rembrandt ****
without a mirror.

There was no
night watch.

Give me,
some poison to live
I had been dead
for many years.

I burn my hands on a flame,
blank space has started talking.
I am ill at ease –
My lips are not moving.

The pellets, the bullets, the steel –
nothing matters now.
***** games can go on,
I am going on bromides
to ******* the pain.

Sleep will not come in dark
nor the relief in white robes.
I will remain awake till eternity.

Give me,
some thorns to bleed.
Rose petals
are hurting now.

It was a mixed affair
of love and hate.
You are in deep water
to engage in a dialogue.

Almost farce was the
black ice. Animalism was the―
same. It was ******
in one form or the other.

The landscape would be
remembered for illicit violence.
The ****** sea hides the remains
of midair collision.

The purple men talk of
casualities in war times. The
relocation of peace march was
a big mistake. The vultures―

refuse to move from the trees.

The dark side of moon
simmers. There was an outbreak
of romance on planet.

*

Ah, the senile edge of
twilight! Which way the light will go
to shine dry humor?

*

Shall we change ourselves
in dim hope of rebirthing
of our ancient gods?

Like the banana peel
thrown on the sidewalk, you
come across the life.
And you still go on, in the―
search of moonlight―
without pills.
The drugged sleep.
Unorthodoxly you insult
the sun. And one-liners
go abegging for the listeners.

You are talking to your
peers now, long dead.
Fair amount of water, is
needed to sink.
The river merchant has brought
no fish.

You were not facing
the facts to defeat yourself―
with palm leaves wiping
away the stains of moon.
The confessions were not
valid in light. Darkness will
decide the fate of an exhibitionist.
In the game of survival,
onlookers become strangers.
You will not stand on your feet.
Invisible hands clap.
Sometimes we don't talk and look eyeful.
I have nothing to begin today
nothing to finish.
The sea swells up without a storm.

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.

Asphyxia. Too many
words. They scream. The voices
dominate. Truth dies. New cults

Your mind revolves
The debt of unknown handsfor
human suffering belongs to rich temples.

In your half shut eyes
I will encounter your tears. One
day my impatience will come out.

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.

You were comfortable,
when you abused in native speech.
After the conviction,
there was smoke and ash.

Bring down the white plumes
from the volcano's crater,
and begin the swan song
for the sake of vanishing grace.

It is my turn now to
walk in penumbra, wrapping
off the dark core of human mind
and give a prelude to matephors.

Below the wings, the
trapped wind lifts the fallacy
of a fall when you were
already buried in a shadowless flesh.

I *****, I fumble.
I do not seek
any death.
You will divide,
my body, my soul.

Concealing a double
of god, you disappear
in zero visibility.

The bullets,
the knife.
Will they break the pride
of defying the norms?

The nonviolence speaks
from podium.
Hate breeds hate.
Would you drop the weapons
for enemy?

A rose will say I don't know.

Half acting you take
the broom for the journey
of doom.

In human odor, you find
a secret sin. In stampede
you may walk on the fallen bodies.

Between me and my, you
stand squeezing the lines
in holy script. There was no dogma.

Your image overwhelms
the prayers, insulting the
future of man.

Like amber encased,
parasitism, comes alive
with mass execution.

Manipulating grief, ***** hands -
open the lid,
release imagos. Eyes are blank.

You unravel the last of roses.
Surface tension wavers. An imbecile
sky pours the eyes, nose and ears.

Courtyard fills again, morphed resurrection.
I am persona non grata
in my own home. The moon does not cry.

Mystical lights. Headstones not legible.
Lockjaw. Waiting for morning-glory.
Stars are blinking.

Still I am stupid, courting my failures.
Cushion of thorns, I am weary of heavens.
Me, this earth, I do not die.

Let me go away from you
and from your hugs. The kitchen was ready
to bake you in moonlight.

I had decided to remove
my thumbs. World was going to
win to burn the books for a cult.

The author sits quietly.
Smiles at poison in milk. Why does she
want to play with the asps like Cleopatra?

Let the opus begin
in evening robes. Your hazel
eyes will speak,
will not shame the knifed trust.

Still dazed, I trip
against the mirror. I have always
spoiled me. Following your stars you move
with feline grace in charity
for truth of unknown.

I felt connected to some
invisible spirit in many shades.
The body smells the soul
of strange thoughts, you could't catch.

Under heavy foliage
sleeps the sun. I go for
your trembling hands.
A grueling travail begins
to find you.

You become a magical
crystal ball. I can see through you.
Twin loaves cry.

Standing alone in
dying light, to find darkness of
sun crying in bushes.

You were not me in
shipwreck. The sea wos rising,
Will call doorkeeper.

Truth was not the need.
Will collect messages of
sad, ravaged moon.

It was not mental,
when you said, ―
in solstice, the body
and the physics of ashes become
one, the duality is lost
and indentation removed.

This fall it was a freak
weather. The tangerines are
covered with accusing ice. The
insomnia has set in the trees.
No body was sleeping
in gray.

Do not forget the prayer.
Retroactivily you can be pardoned.

The blind moon falls
in sea. Encounter breaks out in blue
green water and an enigma.

Don't look at me. Struggle
for power began after the
magnificent queen was dead.

You wear a talisman,
upside down unceremoniously,
to catch the violent heartbeats.

How much I know me,
I will ask you one day.

That was a symbolic
wish, if you were on moon
to celebrate your own death,
at the hands of unknown.

The deepest mystery was,
why must you live.

This was a culture of thriving with
make-ups. If you recite
a truth, you become ugly.

Hunted by lymphs and
nodes you cannot walk straight.
You turn back, when
the time of departure comes.

Hail the dead, who
licks the rock-salt in end.

Nothing else was real.

I always differed
for the sake of semblance.
Feathers did not agree.
You flew away for your sky.

Impatience had killed the defeat
my elixir, the baby sea in my eyes.
Genocide of the figs, unlearning
the sweetness of life.

Yet a white python was hungry.
A heart rendering feat to dig-out
a home after the earthquake.
Alligators were dying in midstream.

I was running after the desert.
Why bustards were disappearing?
Trees were hung upside down.
There was no suicidal note.

Small things were
witness to genes
of freak mutation.
Tooth in eye
becoming boat in blindness.

Witch hazel
fails to stop leakage.
Thumb with beads of lymph
stung high in stillness,
wants to peel off
the concept of injury.

A brace
stops the smile.
Blue-chips have nothing to offer.
A king had hemophilia.
Timbers drip the blood
from heartwood
dropp by drop.

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.

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 *****.

Unresponsive, an
alien ego: I was moving
deep into the soul-search.
The compactness was
snapping. Played against
the hype, the hawks were descending.
Like milkweed I drip,
waiting to be kissed. Copycat
the moon makes a scar. I am hurt.
I wanted to touch you
behind the lens. Closed in,
the lips won't meet. Cobra will
not spread the skin.
The lamb has lost the
innocence. Knife was
a blessing.

In being and unbeing
I come to you today―
in unconscious state.
Excessively leaning on
cause, it is not heart―
not brain. Just a beat.
Evening is settling
down. Time flew past. Birds
going home. A lone moon
will rise.
Underground thoughts start―
stunning the secrets.
You open the lost book.
In war go the alphabet.
Questions arise. After all―
who was me.
The awakening begins.

To catch himself
he jumped into fishpond
becoming opaque
between silk and lethal crotch.
Milk of silence started flowing
from earth’s breast.

His name was a flower
who was a blind witness
of the love-
for a moon
which plunged into a lake without a bottom.

Pain is spilled since then
on the charred lips.
Marigold–
waits for the sun
to rise only once.

All the empty hands
carry one eye
of the seeds,
to sprout in jungle of smiles.

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.

Are we at the edge
of disappearing? Pink pain. No
voice still. I sell my soul to god.

The crisp toes, write
my name on the beach. I am not
going to sit on the flames.

The escape from the
prisms. No more love will proceed.
I will become a stranger to myself.