I will not beg,
never. There were some mistakes.
You took a wrong turn
hitting below the waist.

It was a disaster. Asking
for the moon― for chilling.
Drugs make you unholy―
you try to whack the clouds.

I give, you take. But the
balance still remains. Somewhere
we don't meet and part with
unease of sea waves.

I am loosening the grip on me,
let go the legs to take me
nowhere. Unwrite the poem
meant for you.

He made me move on the rough edges
to the abyss of ‘ I ’, persuasive, but strong
for a thrilled journey, on the snow-clad
relationship between disquietening
follicles of wants.

Completely alert, still drowning in fear
of abstract river, of fire, of nodal pain
of self-destruction. Suicide was below dignity.
This was annihilation of the present, past and future
in realm of faith versus asexual love of sin.

Only one moment was sufficient to disturb me,
between me and my flips, between captive
and captor. The quiet honing of silence
for breeding vowels and petals of narcissus.
Black moon, I always loved you.

Your color was changing.

Sometimes I wake up at
midnight to feel your breath.
Why does it happen?

Sustained Artemesia.
Deadly poison. I loved to know it.
My head aches when I
think of my destiny.

The vision fails. You
collect the shards of crashed
chandeliers, which enter your eyes.

Agile thoughts restart
the song to drink moon.
Where are you?

Your color was changing.

Sometimes I wake up in
midnight to feel your breath.
Why does it happen?

Sustained Artemisia.
Deadly poison. I loved to know it.
My head aches, when I
think of my destiny.

The vision fails. You
collect the shards of crashed chandelier
from your eyes.

Agile thoughts restart
the song to drink moon.
Where were you?

The hanged girls,
unraped?
Or the slit throats?
What your antennae are sensing?

Unlifting the veil,
why were you rubbing the
stones in dark?

Absent seizures.
You blink only, without
any response.

Print your body on the
canvas, with cracked
hands.

The cities are burning.
Throw the nets in the
river. You may
catch a prophet.

That appears my last
race, though sun refuses to set.
Ablaze steals the moment.

*

It comes apart;
the surrogacy of imperfect-
seeds of love and hate.

*

Dry leaves of a tree
will not carry the message of
a beautiful lake.

I forget,
leaving behind― ambiance
of your arms,
burn the windows―
not to come back.

Preparing for
water burial of moral questions,
where the unnamed pledges sit.

Now theft has taken
place of stakes, meant for black lungs.

Tongue ***** the acid
of hairless assault. You
won't subscribe to buy the oral taste.

From trees, death strikes,
without wings. Tears float
with glory.

Will, not count
the ordinal numbers.
There was a zero to begin with.

They swim like tadpoles.
Thoughts!
I was waiting at the far end of pond.

Heartburn increases at dusk,
fierce battle of blazing stripes
on blankets.

On the scarlet face
a bridge was burning
in wide open eyes.

Somebody takes an aim
hauling a runaway bruise.
Blood comes out roaring.

Weep, my stars,
ice was thin –
drowning the lake.

Lion's tooth, dandelion
in dead winter,
holds on to your dress.

*

for warmth. The oranges
are not meant
for sale.

*

The obituary was short
and sweet.
When would you die for me?

*

Wolves in white,
were very smart. A rose,
red rose for every martyr.

*

Behind the bars
you try to catch the sky
for the lilies.

Random fall from moon
descending into riots
wants to err again.

Moonlight sleeps in my
room. I will ask her to go
back, after sunrise.

Will not accept your
unseen departure. It will
hurt, picking on me.

I let it go, sometimes
my unborn poem―
listening to my
wilderness inside.

Spreads the pain in
every cell. I welcome
the poison proffered to me.

Life becomes a message to me
of no return. You
can only move forward, towards
the edge―
joining the family.

A forest grows in―
you, when you fail to
curtsy the black verses
of white days.

There were any choices?

A body of fear
blooms like the desert.
The bizarre womb
delivers the ******
son.

The Earth moans,
I will not send the moon
across the continents.

How two persons
can live in one body?
It was a blood feud.

You walk into
your ancestral home,
where you died in the corner
of dark room.

Where the mirror
was placed? I don't
remember. I climb the
attic to cover the bones
of father.

When we will get
the judgment? The city
burns again.

In moonscape, a flower
remedy, enters the white
smoke of your eyes. An open―
house shuts.

The coal writes its name on
blue skin. We were slaves of our
own deeds. I want to go back to
my ancestors, to learn the clock.

Unheard the suicide of
a viper, eating its own venom.
The fat people will come in line―
to pay homage.

White caps and black caps in
thick silence, drink the empty glasses,
cutting the meat of the books―
and reading again the sky.

There was no beggining
no end.
Only an apology
for the credence.

The predators were
*****. Peace comes
when you go
for war.

The angles guide
you to roil
under the stones
unremittingly.

The dark night
was becoming impatient
to give birth to new moon at the sunset,
when you wanted to find,
the meaning of the curse
of killing the light.

Why did you see
a beast in me mirrored
in you once? The restive
stars were reflecting your face.
You will not go against
the will of the sky.

In meditation, you had
discovered the opal, the truth
of the ripened age.

I do, what I didn't
want to do. Open the door
again, to receive the
final assault.

Do not wade in
tears, in blood-deep wounds.
It was a black gold.

Moon was hauling
the night. There was no ending
of empty words. Silver

would not leap in
sun. I become poor in
the court of charity.

Was it necessary to see,
what you wanted me to see,
when I was keeping open my wound
to hear the unheard scream?
What was that which was getting in air?
A little disjointed time, asking
peace for the land
to stop the moulding on the medallions?

The divide and hate the hate and divide
the **** the **** the **** of mercy
and this was to be believed, not to believe
in the grim fate of the fall.
Pain was you was me was him
the guilt of chewing polluted words
to accept the uncertain,
the naked lies.

Blood was on shirt blood was on sheet
blood was on paper blood was in eyes.

Between poverty and
theology. I want to take on you
in moonlight, but is not controversial.

It was very beautiful,
the rain dance of symphony invoking
the godless punishment.

How can you carry a
crowd to complete a journey at the
bank of the river of blood?

Between poverty and
theology. I want to take on you
in moonlight, but is not controversial.

It was very beautiful,
the rain dance of symphony invoking
the godless punishment.

How can you carry a
crowd to complete a journey at the
bank of the river of blood?

Looking at the blue moon
to become deeply sad,
to be true or not to
be true to oneself.

You were always at
a distance, untouched,
unkissed. I was very
reticent to tell about my odyssey.

How not to understand
myself, remaining
voiced in my verses to reach
obsessively at apotheosis.

And then to fall at
inviting earth as dust
meeting the dust, reaching
my abandoned home.

Looking at the blue moon
to become deeply sad,
to be true or not to
be true to oneself.

You were always at
a distance, untouched,
unkissed. I was very
reticent to tell about my odyssey.

How not to understand
myself, remaining
voiced in my verses to reach
obsessively at apotheosis.

And then to fall at
inviting earth as dust
meeting the dust, reaching
my abandoned home.

A fallout from your
waning smile, parades
a naked wound.

A slice from a wake―
remembers me.
I was sitting in lotus position
ready to go for abdication.

Your message was elegantly
subtle. Not to lose conscience,
remaining the first lover of death.

Exiled from guillotine,
you don't see holiness in
the talons of eagle coming down.

The tree and a river
were old friends. The scarves
tied to the old branches, will
tell the collaborated suicides.

No sane hands will break
the knees of moon.

Your lips go dry, when
body twirls to catch a kiss.
The sting ever asks.

Unshackled, you will
come to become prisoner
of a seething sun.

Visiting city of
orphanages, you cross the
high rise asylum.

In situ,
a pod holds a promise,
in the wake of a terrorist bomb.
Peace,
said a weeping well –
my bucket is empty again.

Because of a spin
in the rainbow
sky was becoming dark.
The hand on the trigger was trembling.
You are praying,
for a dying god.

And the golden dust was sprayed
on the sins, yellow wishes
to walk on water, killing truth.
Time was moving very slowly.

The flame burns low,
giving out blue divinity,
for resurrection.
New born grass under the feet
was trying to smile.

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.

Moon reacts when I
hold your hand for a secret pass.
My eyes were always wet.

Pain, tremors, amnesia.
The World was changing very fast.
I will beg for your rebirth.

Money was a brilliant
idea to play in the future. But I was
a loser by betting on me.

I think not,
I am. Still blindfolded
carrying the rusted shovel
on my shoulder.

The old rage
refuses to die. What is that gene
which makes you shudder?
And you lie like a beached whale!

The eccentric words
wrap you up again and embrace
the moon for taking revenge.

Very little arsenal
was left in my blue-veined
arms. Nobody wins in our
daily war.

Some hidden wounds will
surfaces at night. I
come out in dark, cruising
the lanes to find my poem.

Darkness always weighs heavy.
And light was weightless.
You were visible to me.

I was not sure, which
god went numerical.
I was carrying my scars.

It offers no solace
if I become you, and
start hunting the filters.

Let the moon rise in―
its imperial robe, in
praise of setting sun.

In lost island,
water and boat, I
will never know you.

A volley of stings.
I bleed inside, without
single drop falling out.

There will be no
tiara, to put on the head
of pain.

Play on flute,
before the sunset. I
want to invite fireflies.

The numbers don't
agree. War continues for
the red sea of tears.

You won't reach
your abode alive.

In lost island,
water and boat, I
will never know you.

A volley of stings.
I bleed inside, without
single drop falling out.

There will be no
tiara, to put on the head
of pain.

Play on flute,
before the sunset. I
want to invite fireflies.

The numbers don't
agree. War continues for
the red sea of tears.

You won't reach
your abode alive.

Time to think.
You bring handwritten
testament with mistakes.

I exist because
you were there. Between
sun and moon, there
was no controversy.

I was knitting
my life near hornets nest.
Words betray the anguish,
giving credit to hemlock.

Disempowered
in shadows, I become
my own rival to fight
green snakes.

In sleepwalking
you discover the blind
walls. All blood-stained skulls
start rolling.

At the ritual you
become half angel and
spread the cascading black
hair on white moons.

The unwritten words
can start a private violence
in public domain.

I suffer silently
digitally in discrete
signs. I will not project
any genesis.

Inspite of voiceless
protests, you inherit my
theme, like the morning
glory of sun.

There is no mutilation
of truth. I will
take the Agni test to
prove my incapability.

No medals were displayed.

Let my pain go, then
I will think of you during break.
I was teaching pure truths.

You disturb my sleep
to read the holy books again. Why we
were guilty of not taking arms?

Don't shoot at bull's eye.
It doesn't bleed and you always misfire.
Your fingers will play Beethoven.

Let my pain go, then
I will think of you during break.
I was teaching pure truths.

You disturb my sleep
to read the holy books again. Why we
were guilty of not taking arms?

Don't shoot at bull's eye.
It doesn't bleed and you always misfire.
Your fingers will play Beethoven.

Half waking in red
moon, to seek revenge of
fallen grace of sun.

Was worth the pain of
dying light of meniscus
waiting for songbirds.

Farewell for home-
less, who would not come back
after the sunset.

It was frightening
to grow up in light.
You wanted to come out
in dark for gene intimacy.

There were long
shadows of words, which
had their own character
and morality.

The suspense hovers.
The spark ignites the double
kiss when asked, stitching
the break.

In finding myself
anew, I lost you.
Death will not separate fragrance
from the rose.

I will keep mum.
The spirit and flesh of
some words are dead.
The werewolf had become
an executioner.

A sample pang flutters
for a piece of meaning.
So long, I will say to my stars.
No light appears to be coming
from the moon.

The veil hangs from your eyes.
I will not seek your vision.
Only the sacred thought,
you had been hiding,
from centuries.

Suddenly a freckled hand
stabs the propriety. You
hold the rock like Sisyphus.
I stumble, walk in-
and break the pure gold.

I was so shattered.
What was your truth in
saving human fall?

It was all fake.
Few minutes before death,
a sample of god speaks.

You bury your dreams,
saying mantras to appease
the godforsaken land.

First I used to fight
with my father and now I am
fighting with my son.

Values are changing
I cannot jump out of boat.
It is sinking, sinking.

The migratory ache,
one day for you, one day for
me, or lunar storm.

*

The realm takes shape
of impossible metaphysics,
I shall leave your arm.

*

I want to become
what I was in wind, water
and flame. Hold my words.

Some sadness, some pain.
I tell myself, don't be proud
of reaching the peak.

Come on mini moon.
Earth was devastated. Loneliness
plays havoc. I want to-

Run away from myself.
Who will stop me. You had shaded
my storms. I will remain happy till death.

Between blue and black
the moon peaks in harsh winter.
Are you in the emergence stage?

Give me the sacred
water. I want to salute the eternal
beauty. I was an observer.

The butterflies dance.
to celebrate earth's marriage.
Ganges invites all the followers.

The city breaks me,
when you try to bury memory
in the feral woods.

*

Pains shall not buy
the tears as an evidence
of endless slaying.

*

There was no time
to halt between life and death.
Someone pulls the string.

I am developing awareness
of your parted lips. Something was
left to say, your ankles had stopped ringing,

I am not a holder of
candles. Want to stay in the dark to
look at the falling moon on the burning pyre.

Barefoot I walk on the
hot ashes, after the collective suicide
of the utopia, without a war.

Trying to follow truth
his journey was nightmarish.
Alchemic fusion with past and future failed –
his bowl was still empty.

In the inner space
a largesse, free of present,
becomes the pain of perfection!
Now what to do next?

More afraid of life than death
he tried to manage the fear,
the futility of becoming somebody,
the nihility of ripening in celebrations.

In the darkness, an eye looks
beyond the stars, at timeless silences
of hope, waking, slits of dreams
like lasers, creating new designs.

A nostalgic dream.
I live alone to meet the god.
Who were you to hold the prayers?

The genocide. Why does
it happen? Was it a second suicide
to hate the love of words?

To take solace, you
put your hand on heart to tell
the truth. The poem was true like milk.

When you talk of
a war on the behalf...
you become a sinner.

A self-deceit
wants to believe in demon,
what he was.

In mode of morphing
into a giant, who
had no limbs.

Truth was not
this. It was trying
to prove it was.

Bending the truth,
you return back to your home,
separated by a―
monologue of lie.

When do we become human,
collecting the firewood, to burn
the wax houses, lifting the sky
to fall from heights?

It was a rare glimpse―
of the running limbs,
in unison, when the rains arrived
in the long-armed dahlias.

This is cryptic nonsense when
you start seeing the flesh,
in grass, where moon has come down
to water the Lucifer.

Between the hills
lies the secret of deep
valley. I love what was
a voiceless pain.

Die by me, if you
will, when I wouldn't
be there to see your mutation
intobutterfly.

Where the horizon
meets the moon, I will
place my shivering candle
to burn at both the ends
in a trench.

The destroyer sleeps
now in the nest of golden
eagle. One day he will
wake up to sharpen his
beak and talons.

Between the hills
lies the secret of deep
valley. I love what was
a voiceless pain.

Die by me, if you
will, when I wouldn't
be there to see your mutation
intobutterfly.

Where the horizon
meets the moon, I will
place my shivering candle
to burn at both the ends
in a trench.

The destroyer sleeps
now in the nest of golden
eagle. One day he will
wake up to sharpen his
beak and talons.

Where do I touch
you in dark? You don't have
the skin, like water.

The echoes were dying
in the stillness of nightbirds.
Do you call it tranquility?

Unhinged, a sharp cry
moves around a Michelangelo,
unbelieving in last judgement.

Catching of the falling
leaves in autumn, reminds
you of impermanence. Yet I
will explore eternity.

The call returns. Time
to collect the bowls. Roses
are dead at altar.
You cannot stitch the wounds.

I will again
measure my height.