green feeble breathing leaves,
under a blanket of light and thunder
with every passing tremor
from the abode of divinities,
they bathe unapologetically,

a melody cracks the humongous earth
into the notes of a lost symphony,
the rain is just a clairvoyant dancer,
foreseeing the smiles of all equals,

the petrichor transverses
the past,present and the future
in the spaces between space,

even my cold rusted heart,
breathes like a cancer dying patient,
for the last smoke in this petrichor,

and I am a child again, brisking through mud,
searching something that I do not even remember,
maybe I will find it in sometime,
in a place,where childhood went

an amicable smell
from the dried grasses
after the evening drizzle
and the turmeric laden idols,
that fuses into memories,
like reopening dust laden book,
in the house that greets waves
with eyes closed and an absence
of discord

even souls here burn
and wash away like a dried
incense stick on voyage
to nowhere and everywhere

the cows ring bells
in harmony and unison
there are no beds
but the dogs and humans
sleep alike
in comforts of a ground
that caresses unequivocally
in life and eternal death.

the smell has gone now
now concrete, glasses and woods
stink of success and fervor,
something terrible happened
really terrible.

drops are torturing my patience,
slowly traversing the spine,

In a frozen lake,
incensed with the dead past,
hymns and chants,
the mist and howls of winds,
kiss and dispose me,
a flesh impure for offering,
I believe

I lie on the ice naked with you,
seeking the last ounce of warmth,
through your curves,
I traced every inch,
in the dying moonlight,
till you slithered my neck,
and kiss me one last time,

with fear in my eyes,
an ocean of ecstacy in my heart,
and a smell of incense hemorrhaging my brain,
I sleep for eternity.

In an envelope of void,
I have come to my temple of verses,
across the lands misted of thoughts
to the mountains that rains pleasant dreams

the rivers drown your past
in a melodious blur of coldness,
the skies smell like a unforgetten
future in hues of parallel mirrors

and this is my chanting
my shangri la,in the temple of verses,
a dream within a dream,sleeping unapologetically,
would you stop staring and join?

In muddy splashes and
closed shops with smells of lament,

the coconut trees with ghastly shadows
and the shores eager with lust,

in children devouring air and absence
of laughter,
separated lovers ******* someone else
without a guilt,

I slept through timelines
of remorse,guilt,happiness and
nothingness watching them,
remembering them,
understanding them,

to conjure an image
worth hallucination,
worth a wonder,
worth a moment,

today is the day,
I lessen my burden,
to you.

in the dark dusted corners,
and the fading faraway skylines,

in the books never opened,
and some never finished,

in the winds that annihilates the sense of time,
and the dogs that sometimes barks out for fun,

in the celestial beauties cursed to hide,
and the boredom in counting wings of the useless fans,

I have lied,searched and crawled
for words to define this crisis of emptiness,

I sense words and meanings lurking around
in places and hotels I left in dismay

in the ash-trays and coaster less tables,
some of the burned memories with words of comfort still lie,

though they are cold and full of despair,
I shall cast the spring through them

for your all eves to see
and your heart to drink,tonight.

there is something
about those wooden chairs
at the Jameson's Bar.

the way they consume the
yellow brights, I believe
they could have consumed the
sultry nights,the spilled whisky,
the cheap tips and the unspoken
stories.

it's like a polished reflective
demon,that asks me to sit on it
and begin the satanic act of
dissolution of liver.

the way it does so,
I might have lost a hundred stories
to it in the most painful nights
I saw and swallowed within, with only ice.

but I never regretted.
nor shall ever be,
for they have read my stories,
when no one ever could.