Lady luck seemed to left me,
As I started to roll the dice.
I wanted to cheat,
And never say "goodbye."
I want to spend this eternal pleasure,
Of casting myself into isolation,
In this dark, humid, rotten room.
Sitting and embracing the cold body,
With innocence controlled like a marionette.
Strings were the darkness,
Puppet is the soul.
The forger is my mind,
Often forgetting to stitch the holes.
In this twisted poem you'll get lost,
By playing with the unknown.
A crumbling facade.
You might wonder what is the mistake?
Think again.
If it's not the forger,
Then it is the reader.

Amidst the smoke and light and laughter
Along the smiles and cheers thereafter

A sound is bled, wrung free from strings
It bounds and treads and wholly sings
Inside each song, a secret’s moved
Not right nor wrong or frequent proved
The message dances from bow to ear;
A coded trance of love and fear
From left to right the story rings
Of death and light the Cello brings
The covert tale engulfs the room
It vibrates truth to those who loom
The Cello knows for why it’s played
Its secret lost, both gone and stayed

In the smoke and light and laughter
Music lies and cries thereafter

I woke up to a sky of grey
a hiding sun, a rainy day
clouds of hail - stormy what nots
rotund, dang and heavy drops

I said to them, be my poem.

Then the clouds of storm cleared
the golden orb appeared
a rainbow spilled color on the grass
the blossoms sang sweetly - unasked

I said to them, be my poem

To the poor man on the street
and the rag picker with bare feet
the cobbler and the fruit seller
the palmist and the fortune teller

I said to them, be my poem

To a new born and then flesh on a pyre
the wind that whisks ashes of fire
to the fragrance of spring and the frost of cold
the stench of garbage and the scent of rose

I said to them, be my poem

I turned to love, anger and defeat
laughed with humour and cried with grief
traced the many fleeting expressions on a face
fluid movements and those without grace

I said to them, stay and be my poem

Then I paused, I looked within -inside
into my heart and in my mind
so I could meet myself and know
see and hear, feel and grow

So that one day, I too may become a poem

I have risen
Before the sun
Escape my prison
I must run
Persist. Resist.
Yield for none
I will not Yield
Till I am done.

I wish I could believe
I'm falling for the man from Pakistan.
The only one I'm falling for is you.

I wish that it was true
I love the girl that likes the things I write.
The only one I write about is you.

And all my words are falling out
My fingertips,
My cracking lips

Without looking within
Can one truly begin
As a person to grow;
Ones mind to really know?

Without looking within
Truth is lacking wherein
Real truth not without lies,
But within us resides.

Without looking within
One is somewhat akin
To one who is half –blind;
Answers harder to find.
  
Without looking within
With honesty therein
How can one see the light;
Develop true insight?

Without looking within
Can one hope to begin
To attain peace of mind;
True happiness to find?

What words would Winter whisper,
When the last warm rays
Of sweet Summer sister
Have shone beyond forgone horizons?
His hands clasp blistered,
Embraced by the rhythm of fate.
Love conquers all but his envy is great,

And it grows,

And it blows,

And the Winds are rising,

Giving voice to once silent trees.
Through the maelstrom
Winter watches.
A feeble man on bended knees
Cradles the embers of fire.
Winter froze with desire
While stunned by despair,
That even man could find warmth
While his sky lay frozen and bare.