It was a sane apology,
for not forgetting you.
Concealing your tears,
you come to land
in my poems.

You are crazy-
trying to teach bloodless affinity
with milkweed butterflies.

I think of not anyone else,
when I am thoughtless.
You creep into my veins like
cobra love.

The scream remains trapped
between sharp teeth.
I eject the mercy of venom.

And I step down as
trooper of Magenta.

You throw me the rope to cross the river.

You stop at the brink,
to flirt with the rim of
the lake.

Reading yourself in water
you wanted to defang
the life.

The blood berries expose
the guilt of the moon.
Would you sit at the bottom

of the bay and become
a doer? The white cobra waits
till you are paralyzed.

The lovers go crazy
baiting a god, to unleash
the trapped tempter.

A conflict between a
prey and the bottle. You
do not want to live in luxury.

You said a lot today
without telling anything.

I braced myself for another―
night's assault― aching
for tomorrow's journey on
the volatile trail.

All night I will remain
in tizzy. Unceasingly a fragrance
will hover. That would be killing.

There was sheer urge to fly
with untouchable pain. But
the shadow of bliss, the calm walks with me.

I take you once for all,
bring you back to my paved
words, you become my muse.

Blunt and bold were
the wet spots.
You bleed like me.

The seizure takes hold
of millions thoughts.
My sins are walking with me.

No annihilation of
the flesh. I was meeting
the spirits.

The face becomes pure
gold, when you
start burning the issues.

The years had survived
in slumber.
Death will not come to the hanged man.

When the moon
dips in lake in snowfall,
I let you forget me.

I am reverting
to count the beads in
memory of unborn kisses.

Rock prison of
roses, you don't want to
leave the enticing smell.

The grit, the mettle
was gone. Poem hunter goes
back to barn.

A new god may
take a rebirth to bury angst
from lust to dust.

Will go to any length,
reeking of moonlight
to reconnect with you.

Impersonal, the
red buttons, don't hide
the enmity. Life demands
its pound of flesh.

Crunching the bone
with mysterious pink pain,
to receive the knowledge.

Between Adam and Eve,
there was a poison on the
arrows tip.

Hand care, making
honey without the queen.
You cannot make a fist
without a thumb.

The spirits bequeath
their fireeating sculptors.

Again my heart
breaks. The light has dimmed
in moon. There was no mandate.

A knock at death's
door. I had slept in your arms.
Slept in your songs.

Don't remain mum.
It hurts the ethos. Mortal
injury comes to poetics.

Perseverance, I am
falling and falling in your eyes.
You don't blink, making decision

Divining-who predicts
you have lost face. Conjecture? You
speak, stepping out your skin.

The right to bend down before
Agni after the dream, becomes true. You
make yourself ready to confront defamation.

You were not the
complete face of body
in water of life.

You delivered
half-baked words between the-
bleeding lines.

The balloon bursts
in the chest of a stranger.
Where was moon?

It was a perfect
cover.
I ask you to let me go,
and stop praying for me.

The unspelled secrets
of moon, will not bother
you now. They start pain
from thoughts to thoughts.

Like a china rose
in exile, you hang out
in solitude. Not dust,
but water will melt us both.

In aloneness, I will
find you on red stones-
surrounded by wolves of
memory and freezing dawn.

Not understood you well.
Me living in myself. Your eyes will behold
what my naked hands carry.


My truth was also your truth,
in same boat. I cannot recognize
my path in sea. Moons dancing with each other.

Let us wait for night fall.
The lines in your rough hands. What do they tell?
I am collecting palm leaves. Who was coming?

When life burns out.
You create a colossus that will
ultimately destroy you.

Pinnacle of success
brings loneliness. You would
search yourself for company.

Who will not sit
for your wake, when somebody
pulls you out from pyre.

When life burns out,
you create a colossus that will
ultimately destroy you.

Pinnacle of success
brings loneliness. You would
search yourself for company.

Who will not sit for
your wake, when somebody
pulls you out from the pyre?

One final leap
from high solitude
into city of dusk,
takes you to presence
of charred remains
of a fallen god.

A housewife moves in the kitchen
to prepare a farewell dinner
for the encounter of fatal descent.

A paranormal parting
to comeback to body of truth,
as you pick up your words.

Space odyssey in eyes,
palms folding,
to receive the punishment.

No complaints, no grieving
conclusion of foregone stopping.
A line will start from a dot.

From within, a
fawned virtue follows
the breath, I spell
your name.

The cymosed
surrender at the feet
of a tall god was disgrace.
I will know the incoming stranger.

Spotless in dark,
your words breed. There
was something mysterious
displaying the grains in daylight.

I will count the golden
rings, in your pink eyes
becoming a ghost.

A wrong step in a
right moment, you become
a prisoner of a cell, with
no key.

From the ending
a new race begins.

The dazzling star
went through me.
I was undemanding
from dusk to dusk
hurting myself, not anybody.

Time to meet my twin,
to set he black on orange.
My guilt, my fear, my foreboding.
Let go off, my sap in the twigs,
fruits were coming down.

Under the guise of innocence
eruptiness entered into non-thought.
One by one snakes unrolled
with black eyes, under the succulent *******,
the black poison clapping the pink lips.

The dirt was spreading
on the hands of unborn children.
Their eyes searching the seeds.
On dark beads of mother.
Father had been killed in a cave.

Searching in your
rainbow eyes
relics of past.

Your pride on the leash
goes on a rampage,
refusing a kiss of hemlock.

My indulgence ends,
becoming a sufi
you walk through a thick smog
to drag the failed suicides.

A tinge of vulnerability
when I meet my image
in water. You break into hundred tears.

Where this path leads
in the jungle of predators?
Would you carry the flag
of dramatics for quick relief?

The bubble bursts. My
feet buried in swamp,
I look back in agony.

I cast my vote between the
lips and the inhuman. The study of tears
goes waste for a hundred answers.

I don't do what I want to
do for the sake of your vision. The storm
and outcry wait for the candle to go.

My love does not like
the hate of stars. They don't want
to shine, when the moon is very bright.

The blackout was
risk of adventure. Do you expose
your navel? The toll of love?

Can you figure out the
drops of red rain? Who is to blame?
Who was drying the sea of tears?

My poems are free
from stigmas. Blue are the hands
holding lips. No snake charmer coming.

You become a crimson
dusk in a sea of greens.
The cost of the ******
had increased.

With lock and key you
can enter a new era of
misunderstandings
and misquotes.

The fertility cult skips
the gravel, catches hold
of thighs and climbs
the fame.

Healer was in great
despair. Grape seeds were
ready to sell the garden
of honeysuckles.

Oh novice, don't go alone
in the war-zone of suicide―
bombers. They were looking for
the witch in breaches.

Now if the moon
sinks, will you talk to me
about the octopuses
and aliens?

There were two
offshoots of pain. One comes
from the sea and
other from damp eyes.

We always think
of salt and fidelity to
describe the characters of
disintegrating man.

I am very restless
to understand me, when
you speak of the future
of space between black
and white.

Will you ever drink
hemlock with me participating
in yagna of human beliefs?

Hard and brittle,
the cost of sealing the lips
was increasing overnight.

Cleaving the thoughts―
you would not tell,
what do you believe.

I watch in horror. A
planned trajectory has
failed, shielding the tears.

A furore rises. Half―
humans were fighting
with stones.

It will talk, one day
the agony of deathmask,
you did not want to wear.

Under your eyes
shadows, my poems curl up.
When do I call you?

From wires, tiny drops
of dew hang perilously.
Sun was going to kiss.

First I take you, then
I will cry for the last time.
Going to meet the gods.

In deep bottom,
at first light, I
will give you a call.

Because, I was only bones,
muscles worn out in hymns
and the nudes were―
putting on the masks.

You will not deliver―
a denial, nor you will
put forward the Buddhist stance.

Like a curling fern you
want to go in dark shade―
eyes shut.

The circus of stunted men
and lady birds―
will go on unabated.

I swear by fire,
The battered umbilicus will
not bear any gods.

A miraculous escape. I
will not eat your
flesh, hot and red.

We start hitting each other.

Keep your distress and
suffering- away from yourself. Not
you cry, not me. Neither killed anybody.

Blessing the moon,
why do you go for a bonfire ?The clouds
will walk on burning coals.

The roses will come to
embrace you one day and you decide
to stay on the dead water not to go anywhere.

Like woodpecker
someone knocks at door
to deliver acorns.

Were it you after
resurrection to pay back
the debt of half-love?

Door will remain open
to let in the known killer
of beautiful sin.

Like woodpecker
someone knocks at door
to deliver acorns.

Were it you after
resurrection to pay back
the debt of half-love?

Door will remain open
to let in the known killer
of beautiful sin.

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.

King of ***,
the third gender
or hermaphrodite,
half male, half female,
existing on margin,
beheads the creator
to propitiate the deity of destruction,
starts a genocide
to create a new model,
new world, sexless, moonless
sunless.

How could you remain normal
when you were being robbed of every myth,
every truth?
And you were walking under the guilty sky
unmindful of the pouncing, long legged tarentulas
to bite off your elements?
All of your tongue?
And the heat will give up the slaughtered spring
dried up in eternal shade?
Within the memory will lie the pain
of million years?

Fear is on rise.
How long would you live with that?
Terrible questions bring
arousal bouts.

The days are demanding
answers from the red noses.

Like patato peels
you were wrinkling.

The burning moths.
How do they smell? Young
beautiful faces wearing explosive skirts.

Evening fever. You must
be rooted not, to listen to―
the call of desecrating the comic book.

Pain indigo of
half-moon, will travel
from head to toes.

You cannot carry
your own weight on rocks
of life without tears

Of mortification.
Perhaps one day you slip
the crude slaying.

Flaunting your new skin
like a salamander,
ready to endure fire,
O stranger,
read me,
read my tears,
the pathbreaker is going back.

I will not extort, never your integrity.
The trump has committed suicide.
A game was over. I am
gathering my ruins to go
into winter sleep.
Let the sun wait for eternity.

Somebody was climbing
on the breast rocks. There were
no landing planks. Words
mingle with four― leaf clovers.
You can inhale the smoke,
eat the walls of palace. I open
the latch of mud house and
disappear in future.

I don't hear
I don't speak.

Only the ink flows-
without words, waiting
for birth mother.

Water breaks.
A poem is born

I don't hear
I don't speak.

Only the ink flows-
without words, waiting
for birth mother.

Water breaks.
A poem is born

The poster boy
was a blind hunter
waiting for the blast.

The salt mausoleum
melts in moonlight
white as a sand.

A mofussil background
will search the estranged
words of childhood.


Like a hostage held
for the return of holy book
written in blood letters.

Such
a simple life,
so hard
to live.
What a
mutant pain
so compacted kiss.

This verdict
was for me.
Unable to meet a prophet.
You can fall
in line to lose.
What a
brilliant muse.

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.

As if walking-
in cyberspace, searching
for you.

I want to ask you
to give back my tears-
which were shed,
on ****** beach.

What renunciation-
you need, living in the shell
of a mollusk?

You don't want to-
be found. O destiny, goddess
of ciphers- tell me,

why did this happen?
Your silence opening the
blood trails?

My branded poem still weeps.

Not afraid of any
jinx, hearing strange voices in
brain and very loud screams.

Comes rolling down, the
fear stops, of fire of seeds
still unborn in pods.

You pick up the words
in trance and start prophesying
of bare wounds of dawn.

Backlash of scars
becomes glamorous.
It was not my fault.

Pulverized temple―
rebuilds the god lying
in dust.

Miracles are no more
relevant. You treat the ending
as part of rebirth.

******* plundered―
galaxies were ready to
reglitter the dark moons.

Why to hide anything,
when you don't possess
any earthly gifts?

One day balancing over
waters, someone drops dead.

Birds of a feather,
of no final abode,
were going to fall on
burning coals.

This was an era of
collective suicide.

Something goes amiss.
God was absent.
There was no evidence.

I should not have
fallen in love, with no talons.
I cannot bite the nails.

There were no sources.
No walls. You cannot find
the shade under the moon.

The imperial bell
will not toll.

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.

A clear sky to sit
under the stars, in your gaze
to find missing moon.

Keep it to yourself
what I gave you in the shell,
a pearl, dream and ash.

Landscape was haunting.
The truth gives a loud call,
like a big flying owl.

When the cut glass bleeds,
you cannot decide
for yourself, what was the truth of-
occultation?

Fleeing from dark
home of erudition,
trapped in rubble of karma
you want to forget the
pride of sin.

How would you know that
somebody loves you
so intensly that his
water mark does not fade?

Like a titan, a priest
holds you in palm, to protect
you from vicious eyes,
before saying the prayer.

The sun wants to take
a refuge.

Autumn moon―
in full grace. I have
come out to say hello.

*

Everything was in
order. A stunned silence.
The cuckoo gives a long call.

*

Long ago, such
was the night. I
wrote my first poem.

*

My innocence,
intact― I still feel
my stupidity.

Ready to barter my
last wish with your tulips
glowing in eyes.

I didn't ask for
any help to decipher my
blue dream of edge.

Two little words may
be sufficient to
resuscitate charm.

Ready to barter my
last wish with your tulips
glowing in eyes.

I didn't ask for
any help to decipher my
blue dream of edge.

Two little words may
be sufficient to
resuscitate charm.

I see dark lines
under your eyes. Something
was amiss.

Tears had dried
up. One does not get
even the longing.

To find the missing
letter to tell the desire.
Will you follow me?

Absurd hyphens increase.
Do you get some serenity
from bloodberries?

Cannot hold on-
my lovely rags. Words talk,
hello the pain.

Undistorting
the truth, I have come
to you spatial love.

Bracingly I reinvent
myself, soft and humane
to retrieve the blessings.

I will walk alone
in my amnesic state.
Wanted to bleed unnoticed.

And the limbs throw
the ancient steps to atavistic
fears. Let the animal instinct prevail.

Words are mine. But
I cannot get to you. The
destination slips out of sight.

Touching the tender
stings. I give the final call.
The lips must not leave the shadow.

Living on margin he was deceived again.
A grasshopper was perched on door
shedding green pigment.

Granary was empty and he was,
worried about the health of nation.
Glare and splendor always hurt his eyes.

In the name of prosperity, leftovers
set the ***** houses apart
from polished faces.

He was again afraid of interior –
bursting with statements of elegance,
releasing the bald answers to nettled questions.

The stench was glorified discreetly,
giving a pause to sorrow.
Who was destroying the sweetness?