In alternative lies,
a which-hunt starts―
to find the blue eyes trapped
in amber.

Who will ask, not to
dig in the land of suicides,
without boundaries?

Behind you, were hidden the
rocks. The thin-lipped screams
would not reach the nests.

The color fades, when you move
in the sun. Survey
was futile for another truth.

Courier was walking limp.
Cherries were withering in moon.

Bare-foot a journey starts to collect
the salt of eyes.

In the crowd of swans― nobody
has found the water.

This was exotic.
A single drop throbs in space.
I walk on blades.

I think farther from-
The relics of disasters.
You love to read palms.

Talking of slaughter,
moon bled to death,
when you left in dark.

I will do no harm
in asking the colors of
dazzling stripes so lovelorn
that they cling like reptiles.

Cold-blooded. Transcend
like seagulls, which dive
to catch their own images. You kept on
walking on cobble-stones.

Half your life sat between two
deaths. One of redwood
and other of falling star.
You want to go back to lake for a holy bath.

Ignites. You bleed like a
hidden wound. Never finishing―
of endless journey. You
will never find your namesake.

The senile dust,
which rises between us,
makes me sick.

I cannot stand
the mood swings of
aging moon.

This play of light
and dark in equinox,
confuses the waiting
dawn.

Love stings.
And fog covers, the aura
of falling leaves- green
yellow and red. I survive
the quake.

A tiff burns the fingers.
I will not hold the pen.
The blank paper shivers.
Who will write the
wet poem?

A godly pluck
from your lips,
the nightingale sings.

I know your
concern for the trampled
mushrooms. Where
the fairy will sit?

I broke the
promise once, not to
kiss the buttercup.
Life was so hurting.

Sitting on rainbow,
sometimes you forget,
and start talking to eyeless
daffodils.

The Narcissus
was not me, pining
for the moon whole life.

A saga of
sacrifice, when the
moon jumped into lake
to save a fish.

A fantasy turns into
a hope. You cut slice of
light to ignite the
darkness.

Reason always
skips the rope. You were
not counted, when searching
for absolute truth.

I ask you to stop
being you. Move away
from yourself to
survive the holocaust.

For a patch of happiness
you rushed into the arms
of clouds. Only to fall back with tears.
The glazing authority of moon
hangs on the poverty of spiked wisdom.
Betrayal is the norm of celestial thinking;
how can you accept a dropp of death?

What is your motive
in watching the pain?
A path, a tunnel,
a precipice. The collage of purity
has the innocence of sorrow.
And truth, sails like a phoenix.
There is complete silence.
The flameless fire collapses
lapping up the anger.

Pouring out all the heart beats,
emptying the mind
darkness lowers the wheels
between muscles and bones.
Your body is eaten half by dusty thoughts.
Claustrophobia chokes the little stanzas
you are afraid, some one cares for you.

Everything begins
with numbers, the curves.
The cleavage drops.

History is written.
Young times. You grow old
in shade of stars.

Brave words carry the
burden of weightless truths.
Moon immolates.

Words would wear the blood caps.
In tyranny of the full moon,
the wound becomes bigger.

Mask after mask,
you will never find the
real face. The cannibalism
makes you sick.

I survived the branding.
O god, I will never
shame you. The virginity
was at stake in the hands
of angels.

You receive the bullet,
when glowers were thrown.
Violence has a price.
Brick by brick you make
the temple again.

Without trying to become
an avenger,
you were trying to find the―
joy of primitive faith.

The dignity of terror has
to be modified.
You were now afraid of―
yourself in the crowd.

This thing had a dark tone, when
you cross the street.
Underneath, the seed vessels of
past pain, were ready to split open.

The bandits wait on the line
of control. The shock
comes out in open. Society is
generous, accepts your blood.

The peers sometimes get
the ****** rebukes, but the new
sovereignty suffers. Who will make an apology.

Your flesh leaves the
footprints. Bones measure the calcium
of stones. But the heart bleeds.

It is difficult to get
full meaning of sitting under the
Bo tree. The honey bees will not hang their nests.

Howling wind!
Why were you gathering the―
dead leaves, sweeping
the desolate white road?

A bleak and dismal emptiness
in-between, the
no man's land.

Thousand eyes watch the tiny flurries.
The perfect peace,
descends.

From moon's navel,
falls the golden bloom.

Never had been
at distant pain to hear
the water's song.

At interstices
of tears, threads, filter
the salt of soul.

Muscularity of
oath melts. The fusion cracks.
You move away.

O moon, when I
stalk you, why do you
bleed the colors?

Calm down. Virginity
is out for lisping. Impaled,
the spirit - starts dying.

Don't sell the body
of the poem. Can you ask
the songbird to stop?

Tell me how to break
the moon, when night weeps
to bring home stars.

Anyone cannot be
my lover to walk the sun
for wooing marigolds.

And one day I will
not wait for you to bring
back the spring in eyes.

Don't interpret the light's
reach, on the longest
pain of summer.

There was no chaste tree
left for giving you shade
to sit and meditate.

You will not miss
a perfect sleep at dawn with
song birds sailing over your head.

A green snake has
dropped its skin bearing the trail
to copycat the detachment.

The backache returns
to dig out the hot moon
from the dark bushes.

I will sit and wait at the deck
for the cool fireflies to appear.

I think, again I think, not
a cheat to make a better, another
world. God, will you oversee?

My assets are truths,
existence and pain. A talented man
remains a fool to become a leader.

You do not want to become
something. This will draw a boundary.
A flying bird will not stop anywhere.

I was not there
when omentum was incinerated.
No unparing was called for
digging your own grave.

In eerie silence, I
start collecting the shells
of forlorn pearls.

It would be a miracle
if I can read the invisible.
I can become a killer when you
are not there.

The mute girl will not―
give her lips.
Only eyes. I must lift my
poem from there.

The Hamlet's dilemma. You
will, will not taste the
hemlock.

Like a shadow
you were always
with me to meet the
biblical terror.

Hugging the function
of whole-being, I drive you
to do a crazy triangle
interpreting the universe.

The metaphors
were changing daily to
describe the unethical
slaughter of hymns.

I will not pray
to live in this circus.

The little pain grows.
Writing poems for you
calculating the risk
of becoming an angel.

You to whom, I
am lost, the remaining pain
will fetch the grace―
poise and dignity of
ending.

The future lies in―
the halo of the hill, where
the blood was spilled last night.

A black spot on the sun was
enlarging. I spell your name
in a bird song, that croons
tirelessly in timeless dawn.

The moon drenched lake
wails for the boat not to come.

I do not know
when to stop my steep ascent
after a random fall.

My dreams *****
me. Time to hang my boots.
Enough was enough.

But the tears won't
dry on the cheeks of love.
I start my last journey.

The question
to solve cannibalism
was never genderless.

The real McCoy plays
the game of
sun's core, which
rotates faster than periphery.

I don't trust the
sun's setting. It will rise again
in full fury. Angels too
take revenge.

Branded as witch
the night runs,
after the moon for braid cutting.

There were red rains
from the sky, burning
the green eyes in love.

At departure time
I will collect the brutal sea-salt.

The weight of the ideology
flattens your upheaved chest.
You speak, what you did not want to say.

A fake hunger and pseudo-demands,
put you on the pathless clouds.
How would you now fly towards the sun?

The polarization was deliberate,
to usurp the authority. Blue jays
have refused to join gangs.

A faded document tells about
your missteps. A bunch
of eunuchs have come to guard the palace.

Black versus black will
not brighten the screen. One third of
generation had the criminal record.

Same moon, I
will not witness the bloodshed
during the starless sky.

When it is pitch dark
you open the hidden myths of
hanging China rose.

A world dies under
the Chinar tree to save a
rising crimson sun.

Your calculus goes
wrong. Stones are melting
in cool moonlight.

*

Nightingales are
exiled, at the pretext of
saving the sanity.

*

In ending, I will
begin my journey to find
the eternity.

You were very keen for
sense of smell. I have
stepped down from the ivory
tower, repeating myself.

A mute revenge **** was
defeating the god. Would you
end up to be divine
than human?

Becomes difficult now
to rekindle. There was no hope
to touch your fringed orchids
with pouting lips.

Brokers have come out
in open to sell the fake Michelangelos.
I had painted you on a frail
paper with broken fingers.

Will you place some
candlesticks at the altered
windows of your house
to misguide me?

Bare-foot I go near
tomorrow. So much more than love,
poem in a poem trembles.

Like, aspen the goddess
tree, sharing the same root quivers.
There was no storm.

Setting aside the triviality
of daily life, I drag open the funeral
mask to see the mercury planet.

To be honest, there
was no poem today.
A refusal to celebrate
the loss of truth in me.

The weather is climbing.
They have assembled to-
disgorge the peace efforts.
War was in our blood.

The great divide of
guillotines and blessed swords,
to behead or not to behead
the god.

There was very little good
in the evil designs.We have
logic and logistic problems.
You do not want a friend, only enemies.

The rebellion, the treason,
the betrayals, all were meant
to upgrade your divinity.
let us revert back to animal status.

The bread, land and water are one.

For lurid details
of velvety arms,
in ashes you sleep.

Knowingly you walk
into a death well,
opening the trapdoor.

Seizure brings
the nearness to unknown,
deliberately.

I do not know me―
now, after reciting
your name.

Oh God, why did
you play with coda,
before the curtain drop?

Pure ****.
I pull out the shivering
heart in my eyes.

A rising sin. I will
not forget you, never―
your tongue bifida.

And a real―
****** of a blue-green cow
reared for religion.

That *****. The
numbers, the lies and
the terrible abuses.

The shadows are
lengthening and you were
becoming small.

I will go quietly,
when moon sleeps,
and stars play the chess.

I would defy
the death, but life
defeats me.

Message of the
love was disquieting.
I prepare the ancient
alphabets.

I will go on
diet of pain, perfectly
making me strong.

We live in ourselves
collecting the
nuggets of tears.

Red moon wets
the eyes. I may not
sing back to trees.

You borrow the
light through negation.
Not by awakening self.

Don't invite the
fear. The Mars was rising
with salty streams of water.

And leave your
book blank. I have
to write again the history of truth.

A pure ****, when
you smile with eyes squinting.
Your lips tell something else.

Don't touch the stone.
It was melting.

Red moon wets
the eyes. I may not
sing back to trees.

You borrow the
light through negation.
Not by awakening self.

Don't invite the
fear. The Mars was rising
with salty streams of water.

And leave your
book blank. I have
to write again the history of truth.

A pure ****, when
you smile with eyes squinting.
Your lips tell something else.

Don't touch the stone.
It was melting.

I will ask
the moonflower to give me
a beautiful death,
under the Nightshade.

A nocturne clue;
will you play the piano for me
for a last time? Are you going to meet me in
the grid, crossing the sharp angles?

The signs start shimmering
in dark, like cobra's
tongue.I don't call the names.Overbiting, I
hold the words.

Loss of faith, I
don't believe in me.Did I
betray your creation O god?
The virtuals are overtaking me.
Your flagship becomes a hoax.

I change my name for ever.

Street-the evil incarnate
runs after the people. I stay in smoke
to hide the pain of candle in wind.

I feel uneasy. Listen
to earth. Who was crying? I accost the moon.
I have to say something in the fog.

Bilberries leave the marks.
Your eyes are brown. Gold fishes swim.
I peel off my skin to see your face.

I will not pick your
cherries. O god, neither you kiss
nor you remove your lips.

Sitting on a rainbow you
send the wolves to catch the rabbits.
Butterflies are happy to fly away.

You will come to rescue me,
when the king cobra raises his head.
But I was ready to sip the venom.

Like a vampire,
night swoops down.
Temple bells ring.

I am happy―
not to invoke any god.
Crickets share my muse.

The tall minarets,
stand ***** in dark.
Muezzin gives a call.

My friends long
dead, would come and
talk ceaselessly.

Tonight the moon will sit
on the gazobe,
to have a look at the sea, rising.

*

On the night's shade
dewdrops will wait, till
morning glory blooms.

*

It was a long night.
My lamp starts to flicker.
I hurry up to finish my poem.

Reaching the end of
life, are you ready to listen
when I don't speak?

The charisma of
gods was wavering, you will
smear the poles red.

Step by step moon
climbs down, the blue lake, for
last rites of blaze.

Reaching the end of
life, are you ready to listen
when I don't speak?

The charisma of
gods was wavering, you will
smear the poles red.

Step by step moon
climbs down, the blue lake, for
last rites of blaze.

You decline to speak―
to listen―
to see
like a meditating Buddha.

Like a sunflower
with moon seeds,
ready to explode at sunset.

Strangulated―
neck, hanged from a tree
to tell the tale―
that you were violated.

This was the principle of
cosmic order. Poor god
waits for the world
to show the rage.

I wake up the tree.
Leaves fall like unspoken words
from the decaying oak.

Set to break;
something was left
incomplete.

Time's portal
lets go yesteryear, and
I ask myself, if the
moons were mine.

The jack *****
had turned the course
of life. Why did you
go for the wax model?

The chilly thing was-
everybody sings a question.
The vendor of pain
will not give the answer.

Anger edicts
to destroy all the moons.

A search of a tomcat
begins. The chaos of the gods has wrong
effects. Never ask the almighty, why to die.

Everything belongs to
you. Life was ungrateful. All the steps
had fault, but gay blessing goes on

Beware my love, I am
water, I am salt. The tears are in my
eyes. The crucifiction starts.

What has happened?
A severed head falls from the sky.
Who wants to sit down and weep?

A dark pink eye in
warm screen explains the door
opens for black roses on white thorns.

A frugal pain explodes.
Why does humanity call the name?
Will we swipe off the truth?

Completely eaten up by
coherent light;
the dark niche smiles.

Your collect the toadstools
under a pine.
Butterfly will not need a siton.

You breathe tumultuously
heaving up like Himalaya.
A croc has taken a girl.

Wearing raw beef,
speaking Buddha,
it was real time in dystopia.

I was wondering,
how to cheat life.
Crypts were empty.

Think, keep quite,
I would say, watching
the river go by.

The feral look, will
teach you suffer. There
was no ending.

Half-bird, half-mount―
You carry the burden
of undoing nemesis.

There was no return.
You were a huge mirage of a
golden effigy. The incantation begins.

The pain is severe.
Age factor was a killer. You were like
a river, witnessing the sinking of a burning ship.

A cruel elegy. Do
you think it was monumental
to write down my saga with a burning candle.

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.

Knowing the beginning
and the end,
you stand in water.
Transparency should
come first, waiting
for your time.
A blind pursuit for a brilliant moment,
to break the black rock.
The bloodstained eyes
tell the opacity of eternal lies.
Can you melt the darkness?
The holy edge was inviting.
You want to settle
for a suicide, after the hymns.
O golden peaks
I don't want to climb the illusion.
Sun was sitting in my room.
A bluebird was
staring at me. When do I
start laughing?

A house without doors
I was living
in fog.

The infamous review
will tell about the
fallen words from the roof.

There was no history,
no culture of
cannibalism.

I only exhaled
the grief of centuries
shielding the ankle's pain.

There had been no
perfect picture of the
dancing god in ****.

A blue face swims.
I draw the map of the smell
of cinders.