Long bus rides
Cold, dark nights
Pinpricks of orange lights
I am content
I don't know why
November calls my name
Maybe because it reminds me
Of pleasant hacks
Racing against daylight
Frozen toes
Or maybe it's
Twinkly Christmas lights
The promise of good times to come
Laughter to be had
Love to be shared
Or maybe it's
Old sketchbooks filled with doodles
Books taking me away
Music filling my lungs
Being at peace
Maybe it's
Your lips sealing my fate
A simple question, magic since
Three years later
You've still got a spell on me
You're still my anchor to the world.

I want you to know
I have loved you
From the moment our laughter
Mixed with cider, inky black skies
And orange street lights.
I want you to know
I still love you
From tight hugs and soft kissed
To tear stained cheeks and hurt.
I want you to know
I will always love you
Like atoms, we will always find our way to each other,
No matter what
We will be together.

Dive into the dark depths
Of the unfathomable sea                                                                        Of the baffling human mind:
Explore the concealed layers
From its surface, ever active and restless:
Slowly sink into the sub-conscious
And the more powerful unconscious mind
That regulates vital functions ceaselessly,
Remaining silent and invisible, all the while.
  Move deeper until you reach the source
    Of life's perennial spring,
    Flowing from your innermost being
    Into the boundless Universe, ever expanding,
    Beyond the confines of the sensuous mind.
    When this inward journey, spiritual,
     Brings insight into the subtle working
     Of the hidden mind, you emerge wiser
     And  stronger than ever before
     To weather the storms of life, ephemeral,
     And realize man's fervent prayer  -
    "Lead us from Darkness to Light" -
     "Thamasoma jyothirgamaya"
     The ultimate aim of all mankind.
             **       M.G.Narasimha Murthy,
Hyderabad, India.

Senses, vibrant and restless,
Drive into the depths
Of human consciousness,
Myriads of subtle impressions
And kaleidoscopic images,
While memory, ever alert and mercurial,
Recalls every relevant experience
For guidance in changing situations,
Giving rise to thoughts and impulses
That result in action and reaction.
To keep the mind well balanced
In life's daily toil and turmoil,
Intellect strives to harmonize
Conflicting thoughts and emotions,
Focussing them on a single aim,
To still the mind and bring calmness
To unravel the mystery of existence
And sages call this meditation.
            ***  M.G.Narasimha Murthy,
Hyderabad, India.  mgnmurthy4@gmail.com

Stop.
He said he's not going to leave.
Which means he's not.
Stop.
Stop, lying to yourself.
He isn't like the other one.
He's not going to hurt you the other one.
He will not treat you bad.
When he says he loves you he means it.
So stop tell yourself different.

Admire the proportions, the features, the confidence.
These are supposed to define the ideal male.
These things have nothing to with my perception of ideal.

When I put myself in that position
I call myself Michelangelo, David in front of me.
I admire his proportions, his features, his confidence.

I throw myself so far into the fantasy, reality becomes a fog.
Enamored by him, his features, our closeness.
I am entranced by him, we transcend into the unknown.

I return to reality, and realize that I've gone too far.
I can't take back the words I've said,
or the time I've spent staring into his eyes.

But I'm no Michelangelo and he is not David.
My inspiration is much closer to my heart.

The love in my heart.
The passion beneath the gaze.

I live in a small town with nice people.

Nice community theater people.

Nice non-swearing churchgoing people.

Nice people who keep their mouths shut and their eyes closed.

Nice people who live in ticky tacky houses and sweep their front porches.

Nice people with children who send text messages and drive to nowhere in the middle of the night.

Nice high school teaching, comfortably living people.

Nice mothers-and-fathers people with bright voices and dark eyes.

Nice bored people.

I live in a small town with nice people.

But occasionally they all go momentarily mad.

Your light voice seduced the drums of my ears,
You've replaced my long thin scars with hopes and dreams,
HOW DARE YOU.
You took this broken shell,
With no soul,
Or emotions, I destroyed them.
And gave me life. You gave me life.
Not the kind I now dread, but the kind that makes me want to live.