.
I visioned you,
With her in fields
Of long green grass
Underneath the sun.

I watched you,
****** each other
Like shears to a lamb
Naked and joyous.

You left me here,
In the plots of blade
And purple thistle crown
A princess undone.

I will nay curse you,
Nor she who destroyed
Me as I was once alive,
Woke under your spell.

She lives in me
a genetic relic
fearsome goddess
strands of vengeance
gifted from the Erinyes
after all these years
trying to disown her
maybe it’s time
to wear her
on the outside
as armor

The sky is a mirror
In a labyrinth of regrets.
I hear myself in youth
And shake my head in older age.

But I am not myself.

I pull my hair back to my feet,
All the echoes that
Reflect who I was,
Or am,
Or trying not to be,

But I cannot find myself.

I am trapped with everyone
Telling me this and that
About myself,
But who knows me better
That ME?

I am a wounded animal
In an extraordinary cage,
Sky full of mirrors,
I say regret,
Others say remember,
I say forget,
Others say don't,

Because I am not them.

Me, myself
And everyone else,
Sky full of mirrors
And only the memory remains.

We crash through
Class V relationships
with no life jacket
emerge waterlogged
and disintegrating
only to blunder through
thorny undergrowth
while searching empty
pockets for some
kind of map
to this always
foreign territory.

You see a lust incarnate in front,
this body I wear is just a flimsy dress
a casual wear for the worldly jaunt,
a passionate lover of life is my role.

With her I daily dance, Samba the best,
but this isn't really me, if you ask.
A passing bird this, a swirl of smoke,
when the call comes to go back incognito,
I'd turn a blue bird, sitting on eternity's branch,
even if you see me here, wallowing in
all kinds of  pleasures temporal,"I am that"

A total renunciate remains awake ever in spirit,
"There isn't anything I wish to posses or embrace
Just an inn for union,I should leave this place soon"

I repeatedly tell myself, as my ancestors said
Lest I forget,"I am that; the absolute which ever, is"
equally fit, am I to sit cross legged
in the rough forest floor and chant
"Shivoham.......Shivoham"1

By and by I'd hear the hum from within
the song eternity gently rings in my ears
my desire runs deep to cut the Gordian knot
of duality at one stroke and be one with the absolute

Be a man
Said the father to his son,
Men don’t cry,
To this social construct we
Must abide:

Masculinity –
Equated with strength and
Emotional reserve

Femininity -
characterized by
Fragility and sensitivity

What if strength is much more?
What if strength has no gender?

Strength

The ability to be yourself
And pursue your aspirations despite
Social pressures and ridicule

Strength

To maintain composure and show restraint
When feeling threatened rather than allowing
Fear or anger wrest control.

Strength

To sympathize and tolerate
Those who think differently than you.

Lioness prowling the savannah
While the lions enjoy their slumber.

She twists and turns under sheets and covers.
Sleep evades her as fire burns her cold skin.
Darkness shrouds like tapestries of terror
Warding off consoling light –
“Let me in… let me in.”
Boards creak and nails scratch the walls
Inching its way towards its fidgeting prey.
A monstrosity stands before her eying the
Trembling body –    
“Let me play…let me play.”
It leans forward to her ear and whispers,
“I know what you’ve done, what a shame,”
Its serpentine tongue licks her cheek.
“I thought you were better, free from blame.
But you’re like the rest, foul and unclean,
A lump of mass and unfit to live.
Unworthy of redemption, so obscene –  
Let me give… let me give.”
Sobs erupt from her quivering lips and gasps
For air from the weight of her filthy sin.
It caressed her hair with its skeletal, scaly
Hands, and kindly asked to
“Let me win… let me win.”
But a streak of light from the rising morning
Sun sent Guilt back into the dark.
A new day, a new beginning, an
Opportunity for a fresh start.
But from the depths of what has been,
There it waits for you to
*Let it in… let it in