Whatever it is that attracts a moth to burning flame
is seen by me as a mysterious sacrificial love game.
The moth is just an insect and that flame is of fire
and so gets consumed in the heat of all its desire.

From "The Quatrains" ongoing writings since the early '90's

I apologize
to the stars above
I have neglected
your signs

Yet you

You believe in miracles
to bring
him knocking
at my door
Again ....
"knock knock"

You know me by my words,
But you can't find me.

There are no pictures of videos of my likeness,
And the large portrait in Tienamen Square,
Is a double,
Some sap that I got in front of the camera,
To throw you off my trail.

If you knew what I smelled like,
You'd never eat cinammon cookies again,
Without cursing my name.

I'm mysterious,
Like the man at Target stacking canned soup.

But I'm here right in front of you,
Bleeding and laughing and dead,
A rose in full bloom.

Just because you can't find me,
Doesn't mean you don't know me.


Dillon Neal Dec 2017

Toothless it whispers
And tells me stories grim
It's a black cat with crooked whiskers
Scratching, beckoning, let it in

It lurks in the darkness of shadows
In cool whisps of the night
It hovers, and in absence grows
It's the calm, just before a fright

Akash Mandal Nov 2017

They called her
mysterious at first look,
seeing her body  
tattooed two-thirds;
but I found her to
be an open book,
cause each one said
a thousand words.

the Nov 2017

cloudy, deadly seashore
ruminating upon unknown
breezy wrath, cold bath
whereas grueling it became

fowl without any motion
driven with no emotion
rueful walk of solitary
stopped like a statuary

stream of tattered plates
awoken the mighty states
potent but yet languorous
fragile but yet amorous

oh, comfit, where'd you get lost?
your inside has frozen in the frost
yet optimistic, awaiting to get out
from the one irresistible rout

K Balachandran Nov 2017

I am aware, the mysterious clock within,
chimes in resonance with her heart's beating.
It keeps the time that really matters to us both,
The rest, day or night it be  is mere imagination.

Audrey G Nov 2017

Eyes as blue as pure water
Fur as white as a snowflake
Smile as pretty as spring
Light as the wind

But caring as a mom,
Playful as a child
Curious as one can be
Unique like no other

Calm as the sea,
Mysterious as the new day
No one knows her name
Is a legend, just like her

nim Oct 2017

If we're always
Running, what
Will we become?

If you're lost in a
Deep, gray forest,
Foggy and misty
Where will you go?

Well, call the forest
My heart, the fog
Everything I used to feel
And the mist may be
The traces of my heart,
Leftover. Alone. Faded.

Announce the bird on the branch
Everything I call home;
My body's pointing to the
Mysterious creature
Calling - sanity.
Will you come back?

I had fallen to my knees

Everything is beyond saving

With my blurry vision, I follow
With silver traces in my eyes
How a new path awakens
But it shuts the other ones down.

    You can't have what you want.
    You can't know how you feel.

You are  stuck   h e r e . 

I am not a believer in the popular notion of God or Allah or Yahweh or Prabhu or Bhagwan or Rabb or any other concept.

I do believe that something has created all of it but that power isn't as selfish to make its creations worship it. The power will be happy if we remain faithful towards life on Earth and do not conduce in destroying any form of life that can express its pain animatedly.

I despise the promise of a place in an imaginary place called heaven or paradise if we comply with the words conveyed to a single person by the fictional creator or the punishment in boiling oil if we don't comply with the words conveyed to that fictional man.

Heaven is nowhere if logic is to be heeded to, but heaven is now here if love, compassion and brotherhood towards all creatures on this planet is on our minds while all of us humans loyally comply with our duties.

Any creator, that will tell a man (probably on marijuana) in his dreams that nonbelievers are to be either converted or killed before the descent of Pralay/Qayamat/Doomsday, is a figment of imagination which propagated through the course of time.

Do good, practice fidelity to your family and your Karma will be balanced to help you attain Nirvaņa.

Another piece of my thinking.
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