Leaning against the shadow
of self, starting the
monologue. With the fall
I don't want to think of the other.

The beasts.
I give a call, to someone
over there,
who will listen.

A systematic peel, opens
the doorless cage and
sets free the malignancy―

to spread. Now multiple argan
failure, stares at you,
celebrating the anniversary
of the ****.

We are made up of
charcoal, writing on the walls
with dark fingers―
name of the victim.

Give a nudge.
Tears are falling from
the leaves. Who was crying
under the bo tree?

The lonely eyes
searching the moon in
vast blue sky.

The moles impinge
the shell, not to become
a pearl donor.

The beautiful nails
scratch the paper, to rewrite
the soul-searching song.

You throw the stones
miles long, to avert the
thoughts of bleak garden.

Nightingale will not
come back.

Give a nudge.
Tears are falling from
the leaves. Who was crying
under the bo tree?

The lonely eyes
searching the moon in
vast blue sky.

The moles impinge
the shell, not to become
a pearl donor.

The beautiful nails
scratch the paper, to rewrite
the soul-searching song.

You throw the stones
miles long, to avert the
thoughts of bleak garden.

Nightingale will not
come back.

Performing to a script
you divide me like a fish.
From dirt a face rises.

One flew over the sea
to count the red islands
where the rocks hanged the dry skulls.

Why did you **** the panthers
by feeding them the toxic menu?
Sugar was never my cup.

It was not the question
of bread and butter:
we were talking of clean air.

The ashes will rule now.

Riddled with shocks, a
ripening moon, rises in
pain, like wingless bird.

In search of human-
nest, to get back to sanctuary
of tender embrace.

I imagine you
standing at half-open door,
creating a myth.

To begin again,
the travesty of understanding
life.

A mole, a warton
the face of fractured psyche,
I will never know you.

Generations bleed,
to feed the corpse flower-
of fraternity. I go
insane.

Going beyond the
touch of your life, I begin
to shred my forbidden
sin.

You know what
was classic love, to burn
like a moth on flame.

To begin again,
the travesty of understanding
life.

A mole, a warton
the face of fractured psyche,
I will never know you.

Generations bleed,
to feed the corpse flower-
of fraternity. I go
insane.

Going beyond the
touch of your life, I begin
to shred my forbidden
sin.

You know what
was classic love, to burn
like a moth on flame.

To begin again,
the travesty of understanding
life.

A mole, a warton
the face of fractured psyche,
I will never know you.

Generations bleed,
to feed the corpse flower-
of fraternity. I go
insane.

Going beyond the
touch of your life, I begin
to shred my forbidden
sin.

You know what
was classic love, to burn
like a moth on flame.

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 had no words to
explain, How a headless **** was
walking with me on road.

It was a fierce battle
between water and flames. Wind,
blood and sky will avow.

The secret pain lies in
my heart. I am sighing slowly From.
sea was emerging wounded sun.

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?

Refusing to be
healed.
A wound will stay awake.

Mired in bitter controversy,
the captain said―
the war was not a deliberate act of
atoning for the soul.

That prevents the sun
to come out after a long night.

You walk in the light years,
gaunt and dazed,
in pain of hunger. The words
hang in shame.

A city fails, for
another voice of verse,
in favour of renunciation.

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.

The veiled threat of
black sun and green moon in woods
to start their affair.

How different you
would be walking on dirt road
to meet your shadow.

A starlight colors
your eyes in variant moods.
You laugh and then cry.

Yes it would remain
incomplete, my story―
my poem.

The henna speaks today
against unadulterated lies,
against the rage of
losing path.

No more the wrens
will sing, till the clouds don't send
apologia for not
sending the rains―

of blueberries. If I
were you I will turn the
bees into butterflies.

What was the deal with
Zen? Words are disappearing from
mind. Behind you there was a long shadow.

It was easy to bury
morality at the bank of a river.
I am digging out the god.

I give you a blood flower
moon. Awash with woods, I am selling
life very cheap. Who Was rich?

It scares me. We
need to talk. It was very difficult
to remain honest. We are changing.

I ask Buddha, can you
come back? Moon has disappeared.
I forget the human touch.

Filed bones draw a
volcano on the chest of nature.
You inhale sulphur gas and die.

I knit the dreams in
your eyes. You draw a line on water.
Art opens the door for love.

What we lose if we catch the
flames between the unspoken words.
Before we part, poems will cry.

What is religion? A
commitment to carry the legacy
of blanks and halves?

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.

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.

Let me do what I want
to do, Lights on the street are gone
and I have to meet my last hope.

Don't bring any wealth
before my eyes. I become blind.
Will not be able to read God's verdict.

Where is my
universal pain? I want to walk in
burning woods to find sacred seeds.

Let me do, what I want
to do. Lights on street are gone
and I have to meet my last hope.

Don't bring any wealth
before my eyes. I become blind. Will
not be able to read god's verdict.

Where has gone my
universal pain? I want to walk
in burning woods to final seeds.

Transparency.
Where were you in dark,
in my intense moments?

A lonely spirit will
try to meet you
in blue moon.

Wading in shallow
waters, you speak slowly
to defend depth of pain.

The absolute
becomes ****. There was
no limit to draw the blood.

Uncensored, I
set up the stage for a
guillotine to punish sun.

It was a bright
sun day. The bells
will not ring.

Deep within, you
wanted to know earnestly, why
did the things go wrong?

More than asking
you go mad. There were
no questions for god.

Peel of the words,
and lineage falls apart.
A sword was naked.

From betrayal to white
pigeon, this was disaster. In tick tack
moment, you can fall apart.

Your ornaments, how
much you need? You were born
into hate. I am collecting your wounds.

You can **** yourself,
but love is stronger than the sun,
when you get a little kiss of immortality.

Amnesia.
I want to drink tonight,
purple hellebore.

Like to protest―
the display of private things.
The humming.

The alphabet of
betrayal. Who wants
the award?

Amnesia.
I dream of dying,
feeding the doves.

Was it too early
to start getting dressed up
without a show?

Amnesia.
The hyphens don't
connect now the broken strings.

Immaculate fall.
I will take the ******
for a stark profile.

Violated with
stones, concept of reason
dies in space and time.

In sharp pain you need
an Aconite to unroll
rose petals on mound.

Escaped soul
was pronounced dead, after
becoming rich. You start
peeling of the skin of neo-poverty.

Hunger equates you with god.
It hurts your tarnished honesty. The
image of half-man, half-tiger.
The veneer coming off very soon.

The pepper spray was well
planned for steady hands to
make you spring-blind. Your pockets are
full of fireflies.

The poetry effect was negligible,
when you start praying for snowstorm.

Where was the empirical
evidence, that you don't exist?
The vibes were becoming
stronger.

The comb has fallen, and
honeybee feels lése-majeste'.
Where the dots end, a
new line starts.

Adrift. The resistance is gone.
Reflecting on the added
infidelity. You cannot pay homage
to ungraceful exit.

Will you be able to draw
the wages of your life? For the
bread and liberation?
Who was responsible for your falls?

One strange movement
stops. You won't conform
an angel's thought dream.
And I will not give in to an epithet
for paradigm shift.

Unblinkingly you stare through
me weighing my
dewy eyes. They had spilled the ink
of heart. Subatomically, a mass
becomes a howl of unheard scream.

I want you for all the
pores of my consciousness. On a
blank paper you will write a betrayal
of cuckoo. The small songbird
cries in joy.

An earthern lamp burns
tirelessly. I cover the flame with
my palm to give you a handprint
of my waist.

Was it a sorcery?
In broad daylight,
you ****** away the echoes.

Now I am shodowless.
Walking on toes.
I reach the pit.

Bluebells. From a
precipice, I bend down
to hear the divine music.

A dumper picks up
the foreign traveler, hot
iron. I become a refugee.

Talking of non-violence,
you become violent
against the poppies.

The drugged apostate
wants to live in
lesser space than a mouse.

Rainbow becomes
dark. Colors singe the eyes
ignite the psyche.

The lazy eye,
staggers. Looks behind
the moon.

Retaining the uniqueness
that you were not.

The eagled-hoot.
Your spirit, muddles the air.
How much truth was there
under your skin?

I had always admired your stiff neck.

Only the veil was needed
to cover the green fears.

Would you ever know, how
I was killing myself in small poems?

The danger lurks.
Sparks, seagulls and blue lake.
The blaze never dims.

Eternity prowls around, cutting the ribbons.

There was a strange carnality
in flowing robes,
a waiver penetrates
in incorporeal ellipse.
I must speak of him in his absence
combating for the actuality.

Knowing lust manifolds,
yields a prayer,
primrose opens the eyes.
The knowledge liberating -
you cross the inlets.

Anxiety peels off your mind.
An obnoxious presence of unbeings,
the weeds, the vocal generation
of priests, are anything but art.

The body blooms, in suicidal note.
Birds shriek, before the moon climbs
on the dark trees. I let go the orange,
only the white spreads.

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?

Sometimes I do not
want to be talked about.
Like the setting sun.

The earthworm was busy
in turning the soil,
printing the seed's path.

I had removed, from
the house, all the clocks.
I wanted the time, to stand still.

My moment has not come.
In aloneness I will
find you in my shut eyes.

The dark night swims
once again, on the sea
to reach the boat.

You lay down your head on
the oars and go to long sleep.

The sheen of hidden
power explodes. When you touch the
moon, it burns your hands.

A mascot tramples the
ship.Journey was half done.I am
gathering the smoked remains.

Was there any end of
night for a sage sitting under the
banyan tree for penance?

A lot more has to
be done, when moon
hangs out at the window.

Observing what
was, unknown as if
becoming feral
looking through the black hole.

Dreams were bizarre stones, on
your poor fingers
making palm rich.

Prudery and anguish
will not go together,
when predatory wants a mercy ****.

Leave some afterwords
before the Apocalypse.
Nobody was walking back home.

You can invite the
asteroid to hit the earth.

Tends to droop,
the narcissus, after
shedding the tears.

Per minute, you
were drawing
a self-portrait.

In water,
your image splinters
in thousand names.

Holding the―
earth on your neck
where would you go?

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.

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.

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.

Would not move the things.
They had moved me.
I will never be the same.

Probably a time to learn,
listening to yourself. The
sensors didn't go wrong.

More often I will unroll
my candles and burn
them with my life.

Ripening old, in dry
fountains― waiting for
rains in songs of sorrow.

History does not repeat.
I am preparing myself
to start again writing my book.

Will not commit anything.
Standing in morgue
searching for my unclaimed face.

Feeding the mouth
of fire with tribal love.
My contextual wait-
for the pledge begins.

You come as an
accused, wearing the
veil of moon to explain-
the vanishing act.

The purple nails
scratch the scented skin
to bring out the red,
flowing love.

If you become
beautiful in praise of
moment, I will bring
the burning moth.

The vicious bell rings again.

A patch on my shirt
was growing.
I could not, because I did not
want to remove it.
I took everything, without choosing,
a flag of my territory fluttered
without wind.

Like a marooned kiss on fainted lips
cryless eyes.
The body fails, climacteric defeat evident.
A satellite crashes in midsky.
A star in waste was rising.

Multiple setbacks start,
like the botched transplant.
Thieves were active in dark alleys.

Kicked at slump bodies, like
sleeping on road.
I was always afraid of unknown.

A patch on my shirt
was growing.
I could not, because I did not
want to remove it.
I took everything, without choosing,
a flag of my territory fluttered
without wind.

Like a marooned kiss on fainted lips
cryless eyes.
The body fails, climacteric defeat evident.
A satellite crashes in midsky.
A star in waste was rising.

Multiple setbacks start,
like the botched transplant.
Thieves were active in dark alleys.

Kicked at slump bodies, like
sleeping on road.
I was always afraid of unknown.

Give me your smile
like dew drops of rose―
the tears like pearls.

The flight of swans―
writing a secret message
for the forlorn earth.

Celebrating the return
of the lost river―
after the torrential rains.

A boat sails
in bright moonlit
dark waters of the moat.

Dahlias laugh like
you, swinging their heads.

You want to rub
over me, like a vast sea in wait,
linked with an island.

There was no reason
to script like Albert Camus.
But I was moving
out of line.

Would you be my best friend,
after I was asked to love
my rival?

No ghost name was
needed to follow the truth,
when you were being
counted.

Behind the red
clover lies a promise.
There was no malignancy.

In my blood book
what was your
divine constant?

The arithmetic fails.
a black hole― ***** in,
the brilliant stars.

I was collecting
the rare salt, from the
abandoned beach of eyes.

Poetry was the flesh,
bones. Heart stops
beating, when images drop.

We will not speak
in dark, when the moon
was rising in the east.

Not lived to die.
The road will not end.
Every word becomes a milestone.

Want to celebrate
each day in mud pack. Life rewards
one day daily. My bones glitter.

You trespass the deep
pain and my words bleed.

How come we move nearer
to each other after the fall
to search oneself.

Where the love goes
when a ghost takes
hold of you.

A secret moon
climbs.
There was a sudden
drop of height.

All along you were
there, inside me-
to hold my tremors.

I will try to recall
a lost call from horizon.

The triangle breaks.
The born, an unborn,
and the maker perish.

Only the designer
will survive.